Jaemin the Icy Prince on Campus - Na Jaemin NCT

26. It's Just So Hard

I took my seat at the long mahogany table in the dining room, and my parents sat beside me; my dad on my left, and my mum on my right. Jaemin and his girlfriend sat across from me, and next to him, sat his parents while next to her sat her parents, one big happy family of future in-laws, bound by secret knowledge and a threat.

I sat alone, the outsider looking in, and jealousy sat with brooding wings beside me.

The parents made small talk, their voices a low hum amidst the scraping of knives on ceramic plates. I kept my head low, and resolutely cut into my steak, and chewed morsels of meat in between pushing the peas around my plate.

Would this awful nightmare of a dinner never end?

She was desperately in love with him; it was written all over her. She kept touching him, murmuring in his ear, squeezing his arm. Midway through the dinner, I bent down to retrieve my fallen napkin, and froze to see her red-painted nails caressing his thigh beneath the table. 

I straightened, and wondered idly whether they had slept together; I supposed they had, because she seemed very familiar with his body, there was no shyness at all, and suddenly I felt very sick, bile rose to my throat, and I almost choked. I pressed down viciously on my steak with my knife, and stabbed at the meat with my fork. I shoved a huge chunk of beef into my mouth, and chewed grimly, and swallowed, and when I looked up, he was staring at me. He knew I was upset, he could sense my every mood; it used to make me all warm and fuzzy knowing how attuned he was to me; but now, it just made me mad. I glared at him, and he flushed. Asshole, I thought, hating him, even though he wasn't doing anything at all, and she was the one making all the moves on him. 

The dinner dragged on, and when everyone had finished eating, I got up to clear the plates. 

Jaemin stood up abruptly.

"I'll help you," he muttered.

I shrugged, as if to say, Whatever, I don't care.

I stacked up the plates, and he helped me.

At the door, he stood aside silently to let me pass.

I put the dishes in the sink, and he put his stack of plates next to mine.

"Leave them," he said. "The caterers will clean up everything."

"Sure," I said.

I walked out of the back door.

"Mina."

He was following me.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk. It's a bit stuffy in there."

I ploughed on angrily and turned and trudged on some more until I reached the back wall.

I leaned my back against the wall.

He came up to me, but I ignored him, crossing my arms into myself.

The grass was damp on my bare feet.

"You shouldn't be out here without shoes," he muttered, staring at my feet. "You might cut your foot."

"On what?"

"Who knows."

I shrugged.

"Whatever."

He was staring at my ring.

"What did you do with yours?" His finger was bare. Obviously. Seeing it made my blood boil again.