SeungHo;

You stacked your books carefully on the desk in you bedroom, in order. You had several subjects that required reading and a test the next day. You were about a paragraph into your reading when you heard a sound that echo’d through the house. It sounded like gunfire. You ran out into livingroom and found SeungHo Oppa playing video games. You folded your arms and glared at him.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That noise nearly made me jump out of my skin. Oppa please turn it down I have a test tomorrow and I have to read. I can’t hear over your loud games.” you stated.

He’d stopped listening and was moving the controller vigorously around, as if that helped. His tounge caught between his teeth, hanging out the side of his mouth and his eyebrows moving up and down between shock and irritation. You rolled your eyes and grabbing the remote, turned down the volume 3 bars. Not a lot. You still wanted him to enjoy the game, but you didn’t need to hear zombie heads bursting while you were reading about an English poet for class.

No sooner had you gotten down the hall to the bedroom doorway, the volume amp’d up again and you heard him yelling at the tv. You glowered and going into the bedroom, shut the door and continued to read. It wasn’t so bad, but you could hear him every now and then yell at the tv. 

“AiYA!!! I shot that guy! Shib-Seh-Ggi!!!” On and on he’d go. You tried to ignore him, tried to use your headphones, but everything distracted from the words on the page. Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. You marched back out into the livingroom, snatched the controller from his hand, hit pause and turned the screen of the tv off. 

“WAIT, what’re you doing?!” he yelled trying to make grabby hands at the controller. 

“I am going to tell you this for the last time. -I- have a test to take. -I- need to be able to hear myself think. -I- do not want to come back in here and tell you again about these loud games. Do you understand??” he nodded and pouted. 

You the tv, gave him back the controller and shut the bedroom door. 

Sometimes grown men can still be little boys.