Kim Minseok hates Sundays. 

He hates how the sun shines brighter on Sunday than Saturday and during the weekdays, he hates that Lu Han never remembers to turn off the lights in the bathroom after sneaking inside at three in the morning while Minseok is sleeping, but he always forgets to wake up early because Sunday is laundry day and eventually the boy usually ends up wearing his boyfriend's clothes because Kim Minseok does not do laundry for Lu Han. He's blissful enough if he is able to force himself to do his own. 

And then, at 10 in the morning he holds the lime-green basin in his hands, his grip tightening on the flange of the plastic as he looks at the enormous clock they'd bought back in Guri at a silly fair when they were visiting Minseok's parents four months ago. It was round and it almost covered the whole, deep cherry-red painted wall, the numbers of 5, 6 and 7 being hidden behind the beige couch. The boy laughed sourly at the thought that perhaps Lu Han wouldn't be always late if they had such a huge clock but, oh, he was so wrong wondering about that. 

In the end, Kim Minseok gives up as the minute hand gracefully slids onto the number of two and he turns back towards the bedroom's door with a pissed expression on his round face. He flings the door open with his foot and enters, not so quiet.