ENVY// AMBW

13.

Namjoon and I text day and night. It's tiresome but there was so much to talk about with him. Everyday I sat with him in class and then we eat breakfast together at the cafeteria. He would occasionally ask if the box was safe; I still haven't any idea as to why he wanted me, of all people, to protect it. He claims its because I'm 'different', but I'm sure that's not the entire story.

Luna and I haven't talked at all. After the situation, I lost all respect for her. Namjoon is a good person and now I know that she only was saying those things to prevent me to getting something she hasn't. She even told Sarafina and Karla false things and now they've taken her side. It's such a big misunderstanding, but I have Namjoon, so it doesn't really matter.

"Hey, can you hand me that paint brush please?" I asked Namjoon. I was over at his apartment he got a few minutes away from the university. He handed me my paint brush and continued to piece together a contraption he had to make. For my art project, I decided to make a portrait. I didn't know what to paint, so Namjoon gave me the idea to paint what I've felt over the years. Hurt. Pain. Anger. Hate.

Namjoon groaned in agitation. "I can't get it to move! I'm supposed to make it move." He put down a wire. I walked over to the counter where he was sitting abandoning my canvas. "Rule number one," I picked the wire back up," never give up," and put it to where it was supposed to be located. A few seconds later, the contraption started moving. I smiled at Namjoon as he looked at me in amazement.

"How'd you do that?" He asked. "I have my ways." I said, picking my paint brush back up dipping it into a dark brown. "How's the painting going?" He got up and strode over to me.

I painted a young African female covering herself up because she was nude. She had millions of black words on her and she was chained up as blank faces hovered above her. I painted myself.

"Is that you?" Namjoon asked, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Yeah...that's me." He turned me around so I could face him, "You're beautiful." Shit. I covered my face in sudden embarrassment. He smiled and laughed walking away into the kitchen. I turned around getting back to work.

Black people don't turn red when we blush, but our faces do get boiling hot.

"Hey, it's getting late out. Feel free to stay over, if you want." He announced making himself a sandwich. "No, thanks. I'm fine." I began to pack up my belongings leaving my paintings where they were. I'll be over here tomorrow anyways.

"You should stay." Namjoon sat at the table looking at me. I shook my head no. " I have to wash my hair and condition it. Then after that, I have to put oils in it so I can Bantu knot it for tomorrow." He looked at me strange. "Can't you just do that here? I have a bunch of shampoo and conditioner." He offered.

Once again, I shook my head no. "It doesn't work like that, Namjoon. You have glorious Asian hair. I have Black people hair. Two different things, hun." Why does he want me to stay so bad anyways?

"Well, can't you bring your stuff over here?" He wouldn't give up. "I could, but the real question here is: why do you want me to stay so badly?" I asked him, my back starting to hurt due to the many books I carried in my bookbag. He stayed silent for a few minutes.

"I don't like being alone."

Did he really just say that? He has got to be kidding me!

"Wait, what?" I might need to clean my ears out too.

"I don't want you to leave me, Nala. Will you please stay?" He pleaded. I could see it in his dark brown eyes that he meant every word that he said. I couldn't just say no, not when he looked so vulnerable. I never saw this side of him. "Ok. I'll stay, but I have to get my stuff and you're washing my hair!" He got up happily and grabbed his coat. He's such a kid.

We were back from my dorm and into his apartment in less than 20 minutes. "What do you do first?" Namjoon pulled a seat to the kitchen sink and motioned for me to sit down. I can't believe I'm letting him do this to me.

"First, put a homogenous mixture of oils in my hair and let it sit." He grabbed the products mixing it together. Coconut oil, Carrot oil, and Argan oil. "What does this do?" He asked. He's such a clueless puppy.

I told him that my hair needs a lot of oils to look and remain healthy and that it prevents the shampoo from stripping my natural oils.

"Now, it's time to wash my hair and when you condition it, focus on the ends." I told him. He nodded, dipping my hair into the luke warm water. "Your hair is so curly! This is amazing!" He exclaimed like a kid at an amusement park.

After he got done, I grabbed the towel and got up to air dry. "You hair is so thick and curly. I almost got my ring stuck."

"Yeah, that happens." I laughed, grabbing the other products to Bantu knot my hair. I took my comb and separated my hair as Namjoon watched me with curiousity. After doing ten small ones (it took me a reasonable time), I asked if he wanted to give it a try.

I showed him how to do it and he excelled very quickly, twisting the hair almost perfectly. We got done at around 9:30pm.

"Wow. That was such a learning curve for me. You guys do all that for your hair?" Namjoon yawned, stretching out his now sore arms.

"Yeah. Being Black is hard work which can get very tiring. We're still treated awfully but nobody cares because we're a different skin tone. Everyday we fight for equality, and little by little it gets better. But, I'm still waiting for the words Black and White to have no political meaning whatsoever."

"You don't know know how strong you are, Nala. Don't you realize that your skin isn't a burden but a calling?" A calling? He read my facial expression," Your people have been deprived of equality and now it's your calling to turn a setback into a triumph. You guys have come so far and it's time to go farther. Be proud of how far you've come."

Be proud of how far I've come...

"You should get some sleep, Namjoon. Doing my hair wore you out, I see." I smiled looking at him yawn again. "You sleep in my room, I'll sleep in here." He told me laying on the couch, closing his eyes. "No, it's your bed. You sleep in it." I hit his leg notifying him to get up but he didn't budge. "Namjoon!"

"What?" He said groggily. "I'm sleeping on the couch! You need to get in your bed!" Namjoon opened one of his eyes to look at me and then he got up. I didn't expect him to pick me up and carry me to his room only to throw me on the bed and walk out.

"Sleep!" He yelled from the living room.

How can I sleep when all I want to do is just be next to you?

"Namjoon!" I screamed after laying there for a few minutes. A minute later he came rushing through the doorway defensively. "Why did you yell? I thought someone broke in or something!"

"Sleep with me." Clearly, my words didn't register in his brain. "Huh?" He said with a raspy voice.

"Sleep with me, Namjoon. Just sleep with me." He looked at me with a concerned look, asking me for consent with his eyes. "Come on...sleep with me."

He slowly crawled under the sheets making sure not to touch me and slowly began to drift off. I pulled his arm around me, needing his warmth and security and fell asleep.