For the next hour or so, I teach Himchan how to clean.

We start with the living room, and I scold him for doing what he did with the trash, lecturing him on how he should never ever do that, unless he wants to be bitten by ants, and have their other creepy bug buddies move in with us. He wrinkles his nose at this, and then we go back to stacking away my DVDs. I tell him to try his best to not spread them all out, and that he should keep them neatly on this small table. He dismisses this with a careless flick of his wrist, but when I sternly repeat my words, he lets out a huff, and with a roll of his eyes, mutters out a (most likely fake) promise.

When we finish, we then head into the kitchen, and being reminded of the broken glass on the floor, I warn him about it. He watches me carefully clean up the small shards, and my nurturing side kicks in, as I then advise him to always be cautious around broken glass, explaining to him about the possible infections from cuts and whatnot. After disposing them into the bin, we then finally begin our task with the dishes. I let him know where the detergent bottle is usually stored, just in case there might not enough to clean with, and he nods.

As I continue scrub away, I let him rinse, and when I ask him what he had done to the dishes, it makes me almost drop the plate in my hands.

“You what?!” I yelp out, in shock.

Himchan gives me a nervous chuckle. “I kind of just poured the soap over everything, and then splashed some water onto it...” he murmurs, with a shrug.

I shake my head at this, mumbling to myself.

“What?” he says, with a frown. “I thought the soap was supposed to work it’s magic like that!”

Hmm, I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling that he’s talking about a dishwasher...

After this chore, the two of us then head over to the laundry room, and Himchan doesn’t dare enter the place. Instead, he stays rooted at the entrance, as I leap into the dry spot in the corner. I yell at him for causing this mess, but he childishly retaliates, by saying how it’s the machine’s fault.

"It was being weird, by making ugly noises!" he snaps.

A tired sigh comes out of me. "Care to elaborate on these 'ugly noises'?" I query, in a sarcastic tone of voice.

Using my feet, I then begin to move the dry rag around (that I had pulled out from a closet earlier on), to soak up all of the foam-covered water.

And as I continue my task, my actions soon stop, when I see a strange dent on the side of the washing machine. I blink at it for a bit, slightly puzzled as to what had happened for it to be there, but then immediately know, when I look back at Himchan.

"Oh, that," says the blonde, when I point it out to him. "Yeah, so what if I kicked it? It made the noise stop, sort of."

"But you ruined my washing machine!" I yell, with a groan. "And why the heck is this on the floor?"

Picking up a thick coil, which was resting next to the (now dented, and possibly dead) machine, I then show it to Himchan, who goes on to explain to me how he had yanked it out from the back, due to panic. As I go on to fix it back to its original spot, I hear Himchan say something to me about the machine 'ganging up' on him, and that he had ‘no choice’, but to 'save' himself from being ‘squashed’, by doing that. His story makes me give him a doubtful look, as I find myself not being able to comprehend what on Earth could have happened, for him to say such things.

"Okay," I begin, after fixing up the coil. "Can you go back outside, and take down all of those clothes, that you've attempted to hang up?"

"What?" utters Himchan, looking rather horrified. "But it took me forever to do that!"

I give him a skeptical look, and point out; "But they're not properly washed!"

Letting out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, Himchan then begins to storm back out onto the balcony, all while muttering something under his breath. I shrug off his grumpiness, and then go back to drying off the rest of the puddle. When that's taken care of, I then pick up the rag, and set it aside somewhere for me to later clean, just before making my way outside. Once I'm there, I can't help but give Himchan a weird look, as I watch how dainty he is, with how he handles the detergent-filled pieces of clothing.

A frown soon makes its way onto my face, as I see my knitted jumpers and thin stockings, in his hold.

"Himchan," I firmly start. "Just so you know, you never ever put woollen things into the washing machine. Anything woollen or too thin," I say, and then point out towards my stockings, "Is a no-no."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "What, why not?" he questions. "Then how else are you supposed to clean them?"

Stepping over to the clothes line, I then begin to help him take down a few of the dripping wet garments. "Well, for starters, sweaters tend to stretch and become ruined, with the machine's harsh washing," I explain. "And because of that, things like my shear leggings can easily be torn up in there, too."

When the two of us finish our task, I then place what I have into Himchan's arms, but because he doesn't want to get his attire wet, he flinches back, making me drop everything onto the floor.

"Himchan, pick those up!" I command.

"No!" he grumpily responds. "Why did you give them to me, anyway?!"

"Because I'm going to teach you how to wash these without using the machine!" I shout back.

Himchan rolls his eyes at me, as I grit down my teeth, to avoid yelling at him any further.

Searching around, my gaze finally spots the huge blue bucket that I need, and immediately go to pull it out of the corner. When it's out in the open, without anything getting in our way, I then begin to pick up the clothes (that Himchan had refused to help hold), and then place them into the circle container. I then motion for him to also put the ones in his hands in here as well, and he doesn't hesitate to dump the small pile in. Himchan then begins to dust his hands, cringing from the bubbly water, and as this happens, I go to grab the hose, to start filling up the vast bucket with water, along with some detergent.

And once that's done, I let out a sigh of relief. "This is how we're going to wash it," I inform.

Himchan looks uneasy, as he slowly approaches the huge bucket. "Really?" he says, with a grimace.

I give him a nod, and then go to roll up the legs of my pants. "Okay, lets—" My sentence stops at a halt, as I see Himchan now crouched down next to the bucket, trying his best to swish the clothes around, with one hand.

He then looks up at me and frowns. "This is tiring," he complains, with a sour expression. "Can you take over?"

My hand meets with my face. "Oh my goodness," I mumble, with a shake of my head. "You silly thing, not like that. Here, do it like this."

Lifting up my foot, I then step into the bucket, and when both of my feet are inside the container, Himchan gawks at me. His look of bewilderment increases, as I gesture for him to come in here with me also, and what he says next, makes me furrow my eyebrows.

"There is no way, that I am going to step in there with you," he stubbornly says, while crossing his arms together. "I don't want to get my feet dirty."

"Psh, more like the clothes will be soiled from your toes," I sneer. "Anyways, you caused this mess, so therefore, you will be cleaning this mess!"

Reaching out, I grab a hold of his arm, and begin to yank at it. Himchan tries to pull away, so for a while, we're playing tug-o-war with his arm, all while yelling at each other. It doesn't last very long though, as he manages to make me let go, when he threatens to bite my fingers. I thought he was bluffing at first, but when I see him actually open his mouth and lean in, I let go, and then quickly push him away. Himchan almost falls over from the sudden shove, and this rough gesture, causes him to be even grumpier with me than he already is.

I take in a deep breath, and then slowly exhale. "You know what, how about we make a deal?" I offer.

Himchan lifts an eyebrow, showing interest. "What kind of deal?" he presses, sounding rather guarded.

"After cleaning all of this with me, then you get to do whatever you want," I say. "I'll make you your favourite dish, or we can go out for dinner."

"Anything, huh...?" repeats the blonde, in a shifty tone.

Maybe this was a bad idea...

"Okay then," pipes up Himchan. "You have to watch that drama with me."

Slightly taken aback by his proposal, I then give him a somewhat confused look. "What drama?" I ask.

"That drama that I told you about, the other night when we were eating!" he whines. Himchan then clicks his tongue in annoyance, "Tsk, weren't you listening to me?"

"No, not really," I casually reply.

Himchan frowns; "Yah, nobody ignores the Himbear!"

I roll my eyes at his comment; "Well if the Himbear does what I tell him to do, and actually help me around the house a bit, then maybe, just maybe, I'll pay some attention to him."

Crossing his arms together, he then fumes at me. "I hate you, you're supposed to love me," he grouchily remarks.

My facial expression turns into a skeptical one. "Hmm, that's a little unfair, don't you think?" I say, while placing a hand on my hip. "You hate me, but expect me to love you? Anyway, you better get in here now, mister, or you can forget about our drama marathon."

Himchan lets out a huff, and then hesitantly begins to roll up the pants of his leg like how I had told him. When he finishes, I then shuffle over a little, for him to gingerly step in, and the recoiling look on his face makes me laugh.

"Oh, man up, it's just soapy water," I jest, while giving him a playful slap on the arm.

He furrows his eyebrows at me; "Yeah, but my beautiful feet are going to be all wrinkly and disgusting."

My eyes flatten at him. "Well if it makes you feel any better, mine will be even wrinklier, since I've been standing in here for longer than you have," I bitterly grumble.

Hearing this, he snorts out a laugh. "Ha!" he points at me, looking rather delighted. "You're going to get grandma feet!"

I scowl at him, and then click my tongue. "Tsk, well if I have grandma feet, then you have grandpa feet!" I retort. "Now come on, start stomping."

Himchan blinks at me. "Stomping?" he repeats, looking rather puzzled by my choice of words. "Like this?"

Raising a foot, he then stamps it back down, making the water splash a little.

I nod, and he looks surprised to hear me praise him; "Yep, just like that! Because there’s a lot to wash, if we jump and stuff, it’ll help us get rid of most of the dirt." I then encourage him to keep moving, "Come on, keep going on; pretend you're a soldier or something."

"Ew, I don't want to be a soldier..." he mumbles, while making a dissatisfied face.

His difficulty makes me glare at him. "Okay fine," I snap. "Pretend you're making grape wine—"

"Grape wine?!" chirps the blonde, suddenly energised. "I love grape wine!"

With a new burst of motivation, Himchan begins to stomp, happily bouncing within the container, and this sudden change in mood, startles me, as it almost makes me fall over.

I'm pretty sure I would have toppled outside of the bucket, if he hadn't yanked me back in time. Although, his pull was a bit of a surprise, and because of that, I was still really close to falling out (except instead of going backwards on my , I would be falling forward onto my face), so as a reflex, my arms grabbed a hold onto his torso, where I ended up compressing my face against it. This must have been quite a surprise for him, as he had suddenly lost his balance.

So for a while, it was just me screaming at him to maintain his stance, as he flailed his arms about, yelling back at me about trying.

Thankfully, luck is on our side, because he managed to do it, and when he was finally still, I slowly peeked up at him.

"I can't believe we almost died," he quietly said, with wide eyes.

"Me too," I softly reply, with the same shocked look.

Slowly, bit by bit, Himchan then turns his gaze back to me, looking straight into my eyes, and as this proceeds on, it causes me to blink, feeling a little awkward about this intensity.

But then, out of nowhere, I feel something wet being dabbed onto my nose.

Confused by this random moist sensation, my crossed eyes inform me that they're bubbles, and at the realisation of that, I then let go of Himchan, to see that the result of his stomping, has caused a mountain of froth.

A playful smirk then appears on his face. "Bubble fight!" exclaims Himchan, rather excitedly.

And before I can even respond, I feel the white foam, being hurled at my face.

Wiping away the fluff, I then narrow my eyes towards the snickering blonde, as he is now out of the tub, and is a meter or two away from me. "Oh, you are so dead," I say, as an amused smile gradually forms on my lips.

Scooping up some bubbles, I then begin to throw them in his direction, as he attempts to dodge them, in the small space around us. Himchan's taunting forces me to leave the tub, and I really shouldn't have done that, because as soon as I'm outside, and away from it, he jumps back in it, to gather some more bubbles. I'm now squealing with laughter, as he laughs away, clearly enjoying himself, for aiming the suds at me. And judging from the sudden spark in his eyes, I guess he figured out what I was going to do, because before I could slide open the door to run inside, I suddenly feel myself being whisked away from its handle.

"Uh-uh, that's cheating!" states Himchan, rather playfully.

I can't help but squeal out some more, laughing, as I try to wriggle out of his hold. "I wasn't going to go inside," I lie, not hiding it very well. "I was...holding onto the door handle?"

Himchan raises an eyebrow; "Why hold that, when you can hold onto me?"

A wink comes after his comment, as I continue to blankly stare back at him. "Because the door handle is obviously more reliable than you," I say, giving him a weird look.

"Aw, you don't mean that," he croons.

I laugh a little. "Sorry, but I kind of do," I say, with a casual shrug.

It's quiet for a bit, until Himchan finally removes his arms from me. "Yah, you can't honestly pick a door handle, over your own handsome boyfriend, can you?!" he huffs, clearly very annoyed.

His dramatic reaction makes me chortle, as I nod, grinning slightly; "Well I just did, didn't I?"

Himchan lets out a scoff. "I refuse to believe this!" he pouts, while folding his arms together. "Ugh, whatever. I know you don't mean it, because no one can resist me," he melodramatically declares.

I wave off his vain comment; "Yes-yes, whatever you say."

By now, since all of the bubbles have disappeared, it was a clear sign of the end of our 'bubble war'. With us both drenched with soap from head to toe, (along with the sun starting to set) I decided that it was best for us to both go inside, to get changed, before either of us come down with a cold of some sort. At one point in our little bubble fight, I had managed to reach Himchan's head, so now he's sporting a strange molhawk, which (surprisingly) doesn't look too bad on him.

It kind of reminds me how his hair was the first time we met, with it pushed back and all.

"I'm taking the shower first!" yells Himchan, as he sprints past me, and towards the bathroom.

The sound of the door slamming is heard before I can even react, which makes me let out a small sigh.

But then after a few seconds, it slowly reopens, where I then see his blonde head poke out. "Does Yejinnie, perhaps, want to join Himchannie, in here?" he asks, feigning innocence. "Since we got dirty together, we might as well help each other clean up, right?"

Himchan begins to wriggle his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, as I indifferently stare back at him.

And because he doesn't seem to get the hint, I pick up the tissue box on my right, and then proceed to casually peg it at him.

A little scream leaves his mouth, just before he shuts the door once more. "Geez, why do you keep trying to hurt me?!" he shrieks.

I let out an amused giggle. "It's just my way of showing you my love," I playfully tease. 

"Oh," says Himchan, sounding rather devious.

Hmm, I don't like the sound of that 'oh'...

"So you must like it rough, huh?" comments his purring voice. "That's kind of a turn on, actually."

Disturbed, I stare at the door in disbelief. "Can you just hurry up and shower, already?!" I demand, all while feeling a slight wave of heat, wash over my cheeks. "I feel gross, and I don't want to get sick."

"Do not rush the Himbear!" tips Himchan, and I can hear the frown in his voice; "For I do not like to be rushed."

His dramatic way of wording his sentences, makes me do a double take at the door.

I'm not sure if I should laugh at his stupidness, or cry from tiredness, so I try to settle myself somewhere in between those two moods, leaning more towards the latter.

"Himchan," I wearily begin, feeling fatigued. "Just. Shower."

And before he can say something else, (that will most likely encourage me to hit my head against the wall) I exit out into the lounge room, and turn on the television, to pass the time.

Looks like I’ll have to show him how to hand-wash some things another day.