MYENGINEER, CHAPTER 22: Personal
[Bohn]
If I knew that the clothes I randomly told him to wear would turn out like this, I would have gone in to choose them myself! He ended up with a white shirt that’s significantly larger than his slender frame, but not so loose as to look bad, paired with knee-length jean shorts. It looks manly, not girlish…but I still find it sexy.
“Are you hungry yet, Ben?” As long as Ben doesn’t mess with Daonuea, Duen won’t emit his evil aura. That’s the conclusion I’ve researched and come to.
“Uh…very.”
“Then wait a bit.”
“Okay…Hey, Bohn, aren’t you going to watch?” The troublemaker asks me after Duen has gone into the kitchen. The kitchen is open plan; you can see what the person inside is doing from here.
“I’d just distract him.” I can’t cook. If I go in there, I’ll only cause chaos; worse, I might end up with a knife in my head…it’s possible. P.S. Please imagine a ghost bragging sound.
“Dad says watching your wife cook is the most precious thing in the world.”
“Really, huh?” Well, if Uncle Sam says so, then this nephew must go see for himself if it’s true.
“I thought you weren’t going.” The troublemaker smirks, his teasing tone and manner make my limbs twitch…my foot, can I kick my own brother? Will Aunt Pen scold me?
“I’m going now.” I shrug before quickly stepping into the kitchen, hearing Ben’s nasal laugh. I’m starting to hate that sound, huh.
Duen has such incredible focus; he didn’t even notice that I was watching him pick and choose for a while. The ingredients he was preparing seemed to be chicken legs that my mom bought a few days ago. I thought they were in the fridge waiting for me to throw them out, but luckily, someone saved them in time.
“What are you doing?”
“Damn! You scared the hell out of me…I’m making fried chicken, you idiot.”
As expected, when I spoke up, the person concentrating on cooking jumped, then Bohn muttered something and went back to mixing the chicken in the clear bowl. So tempting to tease…
“And what else?” Not trying to be annoying, but the menu can’t just be fried chicken since I see carrots, onions, and all sorts of ingredients laid out.
“Whatever you want to eat, I’ll make that.”
“?” Whatever I want to eat, you’ll make…I want to eat you. Are you going to jump into the frying pan?
“It’s not because I saw you wanted to eat…it’s just that we have the ingredients, so I’m making it.”
“What?”
“What was the dish in the cooking show you just watched?” Oh, the show I just watched? Hmm…stuffed tofu, hey!
“You’re really going to make that for me to eat?” I asked excitedly. Damn, having a good wife is like this, huh?
“Yeah.”
“Can you do it?” I watched Duen cutting carrots into cubes. I’ve seen it on TV; the chef I like to watch has this startled look but is incredibly good at cooking…Is he really good, or is it just that the food looks appetizing like mine does? They don’t let you taste it on TV, so maybe I could be a chef on a cooking show too, Chef Bohn, damn, that sounds good.
“It’s not that hard.”
“You’re a perfect wife for me.” I said, holding my chin like I was wise. I won’t starve now.
“Shut up…this morning I had to tell you to stop smiling, now I have to tell you to shut up, ugh.”
“What are you saying? What’s with the smiling, shushing?”
“Heh, nothing.”
“Are you bad-mouthing me, you idiot?”
“Do you dare call me an idiot, you brute!” The medical student turned around with a loud voice, does he know how good he looks no matter what he wears? He’s crazy, always thinking he looks like a tough guy in any outfit, your dad’s the real looker.
“Why?” I raise my eyebrows, pretending to deepen my voice like I usually do. It seems like Duen becomes more compliant each time I do this, but not in this situation…
“Want to eat?” The situation where I’m hungry enough to eat my own guts and he’s the chef…
“Yes…”
I stand there silently watching the slender figure. Not making a sound to disturb, I notice he’s already cooked the rice. His hands continue to chop vegetables when suddenly I remember something.
“Wait for me.”
“Where are you going?”
“…” I smile instead of answering and head to the small bedroom. I feel like Mom bought this a long time ago, but I rarely use it…I’ve never used it at all, actually. Ah, there it is, oh my, it’s in the same condition as when it was bought…once I have what I need, I don’t waste time, quickly unwrapping it from the bag and heading straight back to the kitchen.
“What…what’s this?” He startles when I stand behind him, then I reach around with what I brought, putting the apron over his head and tying it at the back.
Done.
“It’s an apron.”
“I’m not wearing that…it’s girly.” He’s right. If any other guy wore it, they’d lose their masculinity, but have you ever heard that there are always exceptions? Duen is the exception who looks adorable in a Little Pony patterned apron…
“Cooking will stain my shirt, and it’s white too.” I use his consideration as an excuse, which works; he goes quiet, though he still pouts at me alone.
Everything he does is fascinating in my eyes…I should take a picture. I pull out my fancy phone and capture the scene in front of me, making sure to silence it, so as not to disturb him. If I’m not careful, I might end up chopped into pieces instead of the vegetables.
So cute, just like Uncle Sam said, watching your wife cook is…extremely precious.
I reach out with one hand to lightly touch his slim waist, continuing to snap photos with the other. Are you concentrating, Duen? Whatever, the one who benefits is clearly me. This photo has the atmosphere of a married couple. I’ll store it in my ‘Pale Fool’ folder.
“Do you usually just boil instant noodles when there’s nothing to eat?” The voice of the one cooking startles me, making me quickly stuff my phone back into my pocket. What did he ask? Oh…
“Well, I can’t cook.”
“Do you eat this often?”
“Um…quite a bit.” Normally, I don’t eat a lot; only when Dad is not at home…which is most of the time.
“You’re crazy. Don’t you know that eating too much of this is bad for your health? Too much MSG, too much salt, you’ll die young.”
“Are you worried about me?” I asked with a smile, it feels nice…
“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about Ben.”
“You don’t hate him anymore?” I asked, knowing full well he could never hate kids; this idiot loves kids to death, he always rushes towards any child he sees.
“I don’t hate him…I just don’t like how he teases my little sister.”
“Protective of your sister, huh?”
“Yeah! Don’t you ever feel protective of your siblings?”
“Not really.”
“You…jerk.” When he realized arguing with me wouldn’t get him anywhere, he turned back to cooking. Not long after, he seemed to remember something and looked back at me in shock.
“I forgot to call Mom and tell her I’m at the condo. You!”
“?”
“Can you grab the phone on the nightstand for me? My hands are dirty.” He showed his hands as if to illustrate. I didn’t say anything, just walked over and kindly handed him the phone…where is it? There it is, when he placed the phone on the nightstand, it was like we slept together last night…get a grip, me.
“I’ll go wash my hands-”
“No, I’ll dial for you.” I slid the screen to unlock it, but Duen’s phone had no passcode. He must not have much to hide, unlike mine which is locked from the screen to the apps.
“Then call Mom.” I nodded. As I was about to go into the contacts, I stumbled upon a name, ‘Phii Yim’. Who is Phii Yim? Why is his name so cool…suspicious.
“Ah.” I made the call and held it to his white ear.
“I’ll…Mom, I am at the condo, with a friend…I won’t be staying overnight, it’s raining.” At first, he was about to say, “I’ll hold it myself.” but his mom answered before he could, oh, luck is really on my side today, hah.
“Just sleep here, it’s raining hard.” I chimed in so his mom could hear, hoping she would agree. It is raining heavily, the sound of rain hitting the balcony is quite loud.
“But!…uh…Bohn.” Are you calling me?
“?”
“Not at all…uh…if anything, I will call, sir.” I didn’t ask anything, but after he finishes talking, I place his phone nearby so if someone calls, he can answer it quickly. If I put it in the room, no sound would penetrate through because my room is soundproof.
“Are you good at cooking?” I move to stand across from the chef, then ask while playing with whatever’s around. It’s nothing special. I just…want to see his face clearly.
“I’m alright. Not great.”
“I think you’re good.” Just look at how smoothly he chops. Plus, the food looks like it would taste good. Have you ever heard of judging by looks alone?
“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”
“My instincts tell me.”
“You flatterer.”
After that, I sit and watch him chop and peel away, it’s quite pleasing to the eye. They say men who can cook have a certain charm, what do you call it, the charm of the ladle?
“Bohn, aren’t you going anywhere?”
“No, I like watching people cook.”
“And can you cook?” Who do you think you’re talking to? You are conversing with an engineering student, a rough guy who could kick a Duen to death in front of the agriculture faculty. Of course…
“Huh. No.”
“Why?”
“I can…but whether it’s edible is another story.” I shrug. Ben was my first guinea pig for cooking, the second was Bihn. After that, I never made anyone taste my cooking again. I have occasionally cooked and taken photos…then thrown away what I made because it was inedible. Why keep it?
“You softie, haha.”
“Who would go on to be a house-husband like you, huh?”
“Definitely, I could be a good husband.” He acts self-assured, pushing his hair back that’s falling over his face…he’s handsome, but more annoying than anything.
“I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because you…”
“…”
“…Are my wife.”
“Shut up, Bohn, stop saying husband and wife like that.” The person seemed annoyed, his brows furrowed into knots. He really doesn’t like it, huh…but I like it.
“Why! Or do I need to remind you what we are to each other, Somsri!”
“Somsri, your dad, hahahaha.” Duen laughed out loud at my joke, every time my mom watches those slapstick soap operas after the news, she says this. I leaned my chin on the table, watching him laugh until he was shaking. I didn’t forget to snap a photo to keep. There must be hundreds of pictures from just when he was cooking.
“I like it when you laugh, it’s cute.”
I leaned my chin, smiling along with his smile. Have you ever felt like this? Not wanting to smile, but once you see the person you like smiling, you can’t help but smile too.
“How many times have you said ‘cute’ today?” Duen stopped laughing and put his hands on his hips to look at me.
“I don’t know, three…or maybe four.”
“I’m tired of it.” He made a face as if he was sick of it.
“But I’m not tired of it.” I walked around to hug his slender frame from behind, intentionally resting my chin on his round shoulder. Not trying to cuddle. It’s raining now, it’s cold…I’m worried he might get sick, really.
“Uh, don’t hug me! I’ll stab you with the knife!” He actually lifted the knife, this brat, Duen, the foolish murderer!
“So cruel, I surrender, surrender.”
“Go sit and wait on the sofa!” Is this what you call being chased away? If so, sorry, I’m not going, I’m shameless. Once he chased me away, he turned to fry the chicken legs. I want to cling to his life like I’m the host of the show, ‘Following
Duen’s Life.’
“No, I want to watch you.” I looked up into the pan, damn, the oil was bubbling.
“The oil might splatter on you.” The idiot turned to say, his eyebrows slightly furrowed with concern.
“Worried?”
“[Sigh] do whatever you want.”
“Ha ha.”
Sizzle
“Damn!” I jump back as soon as I feel the heat from the oil. Did Duen do that on purpose, or did the oil splash onto me by accident? It must have been an accident because Duen looks surprised too.
“Hey, are you okay?” He puts down the spatula and comes over to check my hand. At first, I wanted to pretend to be hurt so he’d tend to me, but my stomach can’t handle being hungry anymore.
“I’m fine, just keep frying, I’ll stand further away.”
“Haha, you softie. At first, you wouldn’t leave, haha.”
Shh, just wait, I’ll get you back, Duen.
Ring ring
‘Boss’
Huh? Why call now? If it’s about going for drinks, I’m out; it’s raining heavily, who would want to go out…and right now, in the condo, it’s so comfortable that I don’t want to leave. Or is there an urgent project? Thinking this, I answer the call immediately.
“Hello.”
(Where are you?)
“At the condo.”
(Do you know you’re about to be dragged off and eaten by a dog?)
“What dog, eating what?”
(You’ve been around your ‘Nong’ so much you’ve caught his denseness. Have they arrived yet?)
“No, no, don’t speak ill of my wife.” I say into the phone while picking up a carrot to chew on. No need to say who the ‘Nong’ he’s talking about is.
(Huh. He’s not your wife at all. Right now, that famous management guy is scoring points against you big time.) I freeze, my hand reaching for more vegetables. Is the famous management guy the same one King said dropped off Duen?
“What do you mean?”
(Open your nong’s Facebook.)
“Duen, can I borrow your phone?”
“Huh, what for?” The slender figure tilts his head to ask but complies, handing over his phone willingly.
“Okay, I’ll call back later.”
(…Are you with him?!)
“Yeah.”
(Damn. Not ordinary, even like this you still don’t know who has the highest score.)
“What are you talking about?”
(Check the photo where your nong was tagged.) I did as my close friend suggested, tapping into Duen’s Facebook page. The first photo I saw was of him smiling at the camera with a large cup of ice cream in front. It’s cute. There’s nothing wrong with it, I was about to say that…
If my eyes hadn’t drifted to see the poster’s name first…
Korawit, Kp
Brought the doctor for ice cream:) with Krisda Duennhaw
(You saw it, right?)
“I’ll call you back.”
(Heh.) I hung up and scrolled up to check the date and time of the post, which was today at half past one in the afternoon. So, when the idiot said he went to the mall, it was with this guy? Thinking about this, I turned to look at the person frying chicken.
“Duen.”
“Huh?” He answered while still holding the spatula over the frying pan.
“Who did you go to the mall with today?”
“Daonuea.”
“…Anyone else?”
“?”
“Answer…”
“Why do you have to be annoyed about it?” Duenhaw turned to ask, his beautiful eyebrows slightly furrowed. I must have let my emotions show…realizing this, I walked up to stand behind his slender frame and gently placed my large hand on his shoulder, trying to calm us both down.
“Sorry…answer me.”
“At first, it was just me and Dao, but then we met a senior we know, so we went together.”
“Really…and what did he do?” No way, Duen is so dense, he wouldn’t even notice if I was teasing him, let alone if someone was flirting with him, there’s no way he’d realize.
“He didn’t do much…just acted like he was flirting with Dao. He told me he wasn’t flirting but asked for her number, LINE, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, you know!”
“Why would he do that!”
“He wants to keep in touch with Dao, shh, over my dead body!”
“…You’re such an…” Sometimes, being protective of your sister makes you even denser.
“Why?”
“Nothing…it’s raining today, just sleep here.” I walk back to the table, place Duen’s phone close by, then pick up my own phone with the other hand and start doing something.
“No!”
“Sleep.”
“But I-”
“It’s raining, it’s dangerous to drive back now, I’m worried…”
“…” After that, he doesn’t say anything more, not sure if he understood or if he’s pouting. I’ll appease him later…I go into my album, choosing the photo where Duen has his back to the camera, with my hand loosely around his slender waist, the background showing a table with vegetables, knife, chopping board, and various kitchen utensils. It’s clear the person in front is cooking…the picture I mentioned that gives off the vibe of newlyweds.
Your photos are just childish, huh.
Bon Ss
Saved ‘Private’ #BohnDuen, with Krisda, Duennhaw