A sharp crack and shatter followed by an enraged bellow chased a pair of dogs into the living room and down the hall. Minseok looked up from his book just as two tail-tucked rear ends disappeared into his bedroom. His girlfriend stormed into the living room soon after, pink-faced and hair in disarray.

Kyungsoon draped herself across the back of the sofa with a heavy groan. Her frustration practically radiated off of her, hitting Minseok’s back with intense, persistent waves.

He flipped a page. “What’s wrong?”

The high whine in reply broke off into dry sobs muffled by the afghan Kyungsoon was trying to smother her misery—and hopefully herself—in.

Minseok reached over his shoulder and blindly found her hair, scratching the back of her head consolingly.

With another groan, she rolled off the back of the sofa to the cushions and slithered until she sat flush against Minseok--kind of beside him, kind of behind him, just enough to wrap her arms around his chest and bury her face in his shoulder. Her frustration was so apparent that her arms physically shook.

He covered a quaking hand with his, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb, and flipped another page.

A few sniffling, but otherwise silent, minutes later, Minseok felt Kyungsoon relax and lean into him rather than cling to him as if he were the only thing anchoring her. He imagined a little ding! when she audibly sighed and removed her face from his arm.

“Feeling better?”

“Much.” She sniffed.

“You’re not wiping your snot in my shirt, are you?” He recoiled and bent in half as his girlfriend dug her nails into his shirt and vigorously rubbed her face back and forth across the back of his shoulders. It took a bit of wriggling and contortion, but he squirmed enough to capture his giggling girlfriend and pull her around his side and across his lap.

She hummed happily as he planted a kiss atop her head and rocked her gently.

Minseok resettled back against the sofa, crossing one ankle over the other on the low coffee table. His good deed for the day was over, which meant he had the rest of the afternoon to read. Luckily, he remembered which page he was on and retrieved his dropped book from between his leg and the armrest to open it where he left off.

Kyungsoon rested against his chest for a few quiet moments, reading the page Minseok was on.

“I should apologise to the kids,” she declared. Leaving Minseok with a peck on his cheek, she raised his arms to duck free and hop to her feet.

She ran on her tip-toes to peer into their room, dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled through the door, cooing apologies and promises to coax the dogs from their hiding places.

When her battery was dead, Kyungsoon was a terror. The best course of action was to steer clear of her wrath, but some down-time with no judging, teasing, or pushing, simply touching Minseok as much as possible, it was as if she absorbed his good humour and replenished her patience by osmosis.

It was a good thing Minseok had patience to spare and didn’t mind being used as a charger. Their balance righted the world and prevented society’s destruction by vicious female.