Jaemin the Icy Prince on Campus - Na Jaemin NCT

10. The Dragonfly

Next, we trooped to the movie theatres. Well, they were actually lecture halls converted into movie theatres, as part of the induction course. There was a whole bunch of movies showing, all about survival in the hard, harsh world. I scanned the titles, a mix of Asian, Hollywood and European. I didn't know a single one of them. I wondered who had chosen the movies. Probably someone who had come from another planet.

Hina and I decided to pick the movie showing in Lecture Theatre A. "High Plains Drifter" sounded like the kind of movie I'd like, me being a high school drifter and all, with no idea of what I want to be, and no ambition in life, except to be Na Jaemin's wife. Hah.

We sat in the back row, the one nearest to the wall, so that we could nap, or run off if the movie got too boring. Within ten minutes of our entry, the lights dimmed, and soon, the lecture theatre was plunged into darkness.

I couldn't see a thing. It was pitch black, like it always is at first until you get used to it and begin to make out the shapes of the other people sitting there. The movie started, it looked old, but arty, with a lot of desert shots and sand and dust, and holy cow, a guy with a hat sitting on a tired-looking horse, and Hina turned to me, and muttered, "Shit, it's a cowboy movie."

I zoned out almost immediately after that. I hadn't had much sleep the night before, because I was so excited, and after a while, the cowboy and the faces and the voices started to get all blurry and hazy, and two guys appeared on the screen, one saying to the other, "If you don't come clean, I'll put a bullet through you," and somebody broke a pane of glass and a woman screamed, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I sat up and looked at Hina. She was fast asleep beside me. Looking around I saw the hall was half empty. I stared blearily at the story flashing across the screen. It was a western all right, carts lumbering over prairies, and a train full of bullion being held to ransom, and the heroine in breeches one moment and evening dress the next. That's the way pictures should be, not a bit like real life at all; but as I watched the story I began to notice the whiff of scent in the air, and I didn't know what it was or where it came from, but it was there just the same. There was a guy in front of me, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't Hina either - I knew it wasn't her, because I leaned over to her and took a sniff - and on my left were two empty seats, and it certainly wasn't the people in front.

I'm not particularly fond of scents, especially manufactured ones. I love autumn scents though, and summer and spring scents as well, they're natural and soft and lovely, but this was a different kind of scent. It wasn't cloying, or stale, or stuffy, or strong; this was a subtle smell, the kind that goes up to your head, all the way up, and stays there, and then the scent started to do things to me, and my heart started to beat a little faster, and I thought, I know this scent, it's as familiar to me as home and warmth and love, and I knew, I just knew right then, that it was you, that you were somewhere close to me, so I swivelled around and looked for you, and all the time I was looking for you in the dark, the scent of you was so good it nearly drove me mad.

At last I spotted you; you were leaning on the wall behind me, half in shadow, your arms folded across your chest.

"Don't fidget," you said. "You're wasting your education. Watch the screen."

You spoke softly, not out loud, so that anyone could hear, but in a whisper, for me alone. I couldn't help laughing to myself. I knew where the scent came from now, and somehow it made me enjoy the movie more. It was as though you were beside me in one of the empty seats and we were looking at the story together.

When it was over, and the lights went on, I saw that I'd sat through the last scene and it was nearly noon. I turned around to look for you, but you had gone, as silently as you had appeared. Everyone was leaving, and Hina stirred and stretched and mumbled, "Is it over? Thank God."

We ate at the cafeteria. I had a burger with some fries, and then, a girl came, and started passing out free ice creams from a tray. Hina and I happily bit into our melon ice creams, and then someone bumped into my arm from behind, and the whole stick of ice cream dropped on my tee shirt. I picked it up, and had to stuff the rest of it into my mouth as quickly as I could for fear it would all go on my knees, just as you appeared at my elbow, and said contritely, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I bumped into you by accident." I looked up into your laughing eyes, and I knew you were not sorry at all, I knew that you had bumped my elbow on purpose. Was this your punishment, I wondered. Somehow, I had a feeling it wasn't, that you had something else in mind for me.

Hina oohed and ahhed, and you watched, murmuring fake apologies over and over again, with that mocking expression in your eyes, as I cleaned myself up mutinously with my tissues, which wasn't much use. 

"I'll go to the toilet," I said sullenly, glaring at you, "it's staining my shirt. I'll need to use water to get it off."

I stalked off, fuming mad. I washed the stain under running water, and it went away after a while, and my shirt looked fine again, as good as new. I walked out of the toilet, and down the hallway, and then, an arm appeared out of nowhere, and pulled me into a tiny dark room. I heard the rattle of the key in the door behind, and turned. It was you, of course. I should have known that you would follow me. I stood in the middle of the cool quiet room. It looked like a room where they keep projectors, and camera equipment. There was a whole bunch of cameras, old, and heavy-looking, stacked up on the shelves next to the walls.

You leaned against the wall, and watched me with those sardonic eyes, without saying a word. I stood on my side, in the middle of the room, staring at you. 

Neither of us moved an inch.

A dragonfly settled on my hand. I wondered where it had come from. Probably, it had flown in here to shelter from the cold. It crouched, waiting, a sheen upon its wings. I blew upon it and it flew away. And all this time, you stood there, leaning against the wall, and watched me. The dragonfly came back again, hovering, insistent. I was aware of you, watching me, watching the dragonfly perched on my hand.

I went on staring at the glittering, shivering dragonfly, but I knew that in a moment or two, I must look somewhere else, or the dragonfly would go; the present silence stretched, it had become unbearable, stuck here with you in this cramped, narrow space.

"Why don't you kiss me?" I said, and my own voice startled me, shocked me with its raw longing.

You said nothing. You did not move. You went on gazing at me. I closed my eyes, and the dragonfly went from my hand.

I heard the rustle of your movement towards me, the sudden shift in the air. 

I opened my eyes. You were looming over me, and you bent your head, and touched my lips with yours.

But instead of the searing, hot kiss I had expected, your kiss was quite the opposite.

It was just as though the dragonfly had returned, and now with silken wings brushed and stroked the smooth surface of my lips.

You put your hand under my chin, lifting it. I closed my eyes. Almost imperceptibly your thumb moved, lingering, over the long line of my neck, and your fingers followed the movement of the thumb. The sensation was featherweight, like the brushing of a bird's wing against my skin.

"Later," you whispered.

And then I heard the door open, and when I opened my eyes, you were gone.