Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

77. Invisible

It's early Friday afternoon. I'm at Jaemin's apartment, waiting for Jaemin to finish whatever it is he's doing. We're driving back to my parents' mansion later for the weekend. My father is hosting a dinner for his staff, and we have been invited.

Jaemin's sitting across from me, clicking on his keyboard.

As I work on my assignment, all I can hear are his machine-gun keystrokes. He occasionally picks up his calculator and taps on it.

I'm getting bored.

I raise my right hand. My reflection on the screen of my laptop follows smoothly. I rest my chin on my palm and sigh deeply.

Jaemin ignores me. He has been ignoring me for the past one hour and forty minutes. And twenty-five seconds.

Jaemin's dark lashes make a half-moon shadow on his cheeks. His mouth is a little cruel today.

Whatever it is he's working on has taken over his head. It is a sad thing to be ignored for an object.

I push aside my chair. Amble to the fridge. Open it, take out a cold root beer. Sit back down. Prise open the lid. A burst of gas explodes, sizzles. Loudly. I tip the can back, guzzle from it noisily.

When I set the can back down, Jaemin has stopped typing.

When I look up, he is staring at me. Imagine a stormy sky, or a turbulent sea. That's the exact color of Jaemin's eyes when he looks at me.

"Uh. Sorry," I whisper guiltily. He stares at me. His irises are ringed blue-black.

I smile at him. My best, brightest smile with all my teeth.

His eyes scan me from the top of my head to my chest. It doesn't take long. Then he looks away out the window behind me. He does not smile back. His eyes drop back to his keyboard. He's clicking at it again. That's it?

He's wearing black today. Black T shirt. Black jeans. Gorgeous, Dangerous Black.

Jaemin stretches his long, beautiful body like a sleek, lazy cat, and gives a sort of groan; I grin. He hasn't shifted from that chair the whole afternoon. His muscles must be all cramped up. Would you like me to massage your back, baby? I think - I definitely think, because I need to keep my mouth shut; he is frowning, glaring at his laptop, pissed at something. I sigh again.

Jaemin's phone buzzes. Incoming call. He glances down at it. Frowns. Swipes it. Stands, pushing back his swivel chair. "Jisoo. Hey." He rakes a hand through his hair. Stomps to the kitchen, frustration simmering off every line of that lithe, gorgeous back. "Nope. Still working on it. Mara gave me a ton of shit...no idea what she typed...seriously, it's so bad... " He disappears into the kitchen, still grumbling.

I dart around the work table to his chair. I sit in his swivel chair and spin around slowly. The chair wheezes disapprovingly.

I'm dying of curiosity. I just want a little peek at what he's working on. The thing that's making me invisible.

I keep one eye swivelled toward the doorway, and use the other to stare at the laptop. It's a terrifying nightmare of words and medical jargon. My eyes glaze over. How on earth does he remember how to spell all those terms? Just looking at them makes my head hurt.

I hear his footsteps approaching from the kitchen and leap to my feet. I vault to the other side of the table and manage to dump my ass in my chair, just before he appears.

His chair is still spinning gently out of the corner of my eye. Busted.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I squeak. "I was trying to see if it's going to rain this afternoon. I bumped your chair. Sorry."