Jaemin the Icy Prince on Campus - Na Jaemin NCT

16. The Diet

So here I am, sitting on the hen house, writing, and listening to the clucking of the chickens. My ass is agitating them, I think, because they are walking about in circles, wide-eyed with terror.

I have found that sitting in a place where you have never sat before can be inspiring. I wrote my very first poem perched on top of the toilet bowl.

You have been walking about with a smug expression all day. It makes me want to gnash my teeth.

You turn around and grin at me. It makes me boil, just thinking about what you did a while ago.

"Let's help those poor overworked guys," you said blandly, and pulled me after you.

A few men were building a pig pen.

Soon, we were knee-deep in muck. A red haze of fury blinded me, as I wondered what other disgusting tasks you were planning to take on just to see my reaction. You seemed to be enjoying yourself though, as you stuck your shovel into the smelly mush, scooped some up, and carried it to the center of the pig pen. On the way over, however, it slid off the shovel and onto my shoes. 

"Oops," you said. "How careless of me." 

I whirled around, and saw the wicked laughter in your eyes. I knew you were waiting for me to burst out with, "You did that on purpose!" but I kept silent, and then, with a flick of my ankle, the slop spattered onto your trousers. 

"Oops," I said. "Silly me."

I smirked, waiting for you to say, "You did that on purpose!" but you also kept silent. Then you smiled at me, and I knew I was in trouble. Before I had time to react, you had lifted your leg and planted the sole of your boot against my jeans, leaving a muddy footprint on the front of my thigh. You cocked your head, waiting for me to retaliate. I briefly considered picking up some of the slop and smearing it on your face but decided you would have too much time to react; besides, I wasn't wearing gloves. 

I glanced quickly to the left to confuse you, and yelled, "Omg, is that a - " and you turned, and quick as a flash, I slammed my foot down on yours. 

You let out a howl of pain. 

I laughed my head off.

The next instant, you had grabbed me around the middle, heaved me over your shoulder, and stalked off with me. 

"Put me down!" I shrieked, pounding your back and your shoulders. "Help! Somebody help!"

But the men who had been working on the wall didn't move. Open mouthed, they stared at us, me shrieking like a banshee over your shoulder, you striding like a cowboy, all the way until we disappeared around the bend. 

You dumped me unceremoniously on a patch of concrete with a huge tap stuck to a wall, next to a barrel of water.

"Don't play with fire, darling," you grinned, looking down at me, "or you'll get burnt. You'd better clean yourself up," you wrinkled your nose, "or the crows will come for you."

"Crows? What crows?" I swallowed.

You pointed up.

I blanched. 

Right up there, flying round and round in a creepy circular motion, was a flock of black birds - good God, they really did look  like crows! I sank in a nervous heap by the tap, while you walked away without a backward glance, you big bully,  you jerk, whistling a tune.

I showered and changed, and went down to the kitchen.

I had a brainwave.

"Oh, Mrs. Kim," I said. "Could we have brunch now, if it isn't any bother?"