“How bad is it?” Minho furrows his brows in fear, eyeing the same man that came by just two weeks ago.

“Pretty bad.” The technician scrunches his nose, eyes narrowed as he nods slowly. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

“That bad, huh?” He sighs warily, stepping aside to let the man in to his apartment. The box of tools clanged against his thighs and Minho watches him pad towards the kitchen.

“She’ll murder you, I know the look.” He mutters without looking at Minho, kneeling down to further inspect the kitchen sink. “Trust me. I’m married.” 

Minho rolls his tongue inside his cheek, contemplating if he should pay the person below his apartment a visit. Considering how the last time didn’t go so well.

“Her place is practically flooded.”

“What?” The information had him throwing both arms up in exasperation over the back of his neck.

“It’s like the monsoon in there, man.”

“Holy –”

His eyes widened at the news; murdered or not, he was already out the door, floundering down the stairs. He made his way towards the apartment that his cursed pipes unfortunately victimized.

//

The first few knocks were measly and hesitant. He paused briefly to muster any remaining courage to give it a stern go this time. His eyes catching the water slowly seeping out the bottom crack of your door, making him swallow back his remorse at the situation. Just as Minho raised his fist for the fifth time, the door magically seemed to open, with you standing there leaving him wide eyed and his fist hanging in midair.

Guilt crawls through him seeing you drenched, hair plastered to your neck with a solemn look on your face. He swallows thickly at the sight of an umbrella clenched in your hand, it would normally be amusing but this was not the time to be cracking jokes.

The two of you were staring holes into each other and he catches your chin tremble before you purse your lips tightly together. It would probably have been easier on him if you screamed out your fury, which he braced himself for during the fall down to your place. Just as the technician had warned him to.

He felt tier with each passing second you held it back especially after catching a glimpse of your living room, completely trashed by the burst of his water pipes.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He rasps a whisper, “I’ll help you clean this and I’ll pay for any damages, alright?”

That was when you started crying, cutting him short of the apology he sloppily planned.

“Whoa, hey –I didn’t mean to make you cry. What’s going on?” Water splattered his jeans when he takes a step into your apartment and you look down to his feet, half submerged in an indoor pool.

His chest felt heavy seeing you refuse to look at him, eyes still glued to his sneakers.

“Listen, it’ll be okay, yeah?” He wishes he was half as convincing, running a shaky hand over his flustered face. Who was he kidding, it would take weeks and the grace of the lord for this place to be remotely okay.  

It seemed as if you agreed to the thought, sniffling as you finally look up at him. Just when he thought he couldn’t feel anymore like , you point to the coffee table decorated with a barely distinguishable birthday cake, downed with water.

“It ruined the cake.”

//

It had been a rough day, or a rough week if you wanted to be extra bitter. As much as you wanted to scream your head off at your irresponsible neighbour, you were too exhausted to gather the strength to.

You thought things were finally looking up when a colleague surprised you with a birthday cake which was probably the perfect time to be deathly terrified of being this happy because something bad is surely going to happen.

And coming home with rain in your living room just cuts the cake.

At a loss for words, Minho blinks at you after staring at the dessert a little too long. You were ready to smack him if he so much as muttered a happy birthday.

“That cake was going to save me, just so you know.” You wanted to guilt him into pitying you and you were shameless. That cake was the only thing you were looking forward to.

“Oh, that over there –yeah that’s a month worth of laundry.”

“God, I just got that rug last week. What a coincidence, huh?”

“I can just re-type that thirty page paper work–”

He remains silent as he bores his eyes into you, cursing yourself for finding it rather attractive.

You’re lucky you’re cute.

Despite living just a few steps apart, you’ve only seen him a few times. This was usually of him running down the stairs after a fluffy orange cat or random off key singing through the hallway when he takes out his trash. They were brief run ins, and seeing him properly this time, you wonder how you could miss someone like him.

Suddenly, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you out the door. The gesture startled you and you were stumbling behind him before planting your weight to the ground, halting him.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a glare while tugging your arm off his grip.

Minho shrugs his jacket off, turning around to place it swiftly over your shoulders. A side smile twitches his lip as he looks at you and you tense under his palms that rested on either side of your arms. It was becoming increasingly hard to stay mad at him.

“We’re getting cake, let’s go.”

//

“Go on, choose one.” Minho nudges you by the side as you stand by the front of the large glass display. Desserts of all sorts lined the vast tray yet you couldn’t just pick one, not when he’s just a neighbour you barely know.

“You really don’t have to.” You tip your head to the side to look at him and you wonder how long he’d been staring.

“Are you sure? You gave me a speech back there.” He lifts a teasing brow, laughing deeply in his chest.

“Hey.” An offended frown scribbles your face, crossing your arms together before you demand confidently, “You know what? I want this entire bakery.”

“I can arrange that.” He replies just as sure, if not more. He presses a thumb on the corner of lip, stifling a bright smile. The confidence in his tone worries you and he could’ve been joking a little too seriously but you bolted out of the topic in a flash. 

“One cheesecake, please.”

//

The sound of his footsteps echoes through the staircase and you turn around to see him place a chair to hold back the emergency door. A while ago, the two of you were standing by your flooded apartment like clueless kids after realizing that his place and yours were occupied. You offered to share the cake with him mostly because you felt terrible for making him feel terrible.

Minho hops off a few steps as he takes the empty space across you, holding out a few pieces of cutlery with a brilliant smile.

“Here.” He settles them on top of the box and you bite back a smile at his obvious excitement. “And… here.”

There were a few colourful hair ties, clumped on his large palm and he was quick to look away from your unkempt hair.

“For someone with short hair you sure do have a lot of these.” You tease, quirking a brow.

“I come well prepared.” He winks subtly, running a tongue across a shy smirk. You let out a snort and the bass of his laugh resonates heavily throughout that emergency exit. “It’s not what you think, my sister leaves them around.”

“Sure she does.” You exaggerate a nod as you take one off his hand. As you gather the mess of damp and dried strands of your hair into a high bun, “Do you always look at people that way?”

“Hm?” It seems like you just disrupted him from a thought, he frowns having missed your question.

“Nevermind.” Shaking your head lightly with a small smile, you tuck the remaining strands behind your ear.

“Only the pretty ones.”

The comment had you staring at him as he casually lifts the box open, just as he did saying those words. It didn’t affect him like it did you, and you scurry your mind for a response to mask your bewilderment.

“I look like I got caught in a tsunami. I’m starting to question your standards here.” You laugh stiffly, busying yourself into cutting out the cheesecake that sat between you two.

“I’ve seen you around on your sunny days.” He didn’t bother waiting by the looks of it, digging into the piece you just cut right inside the box. “You look the same.”

“Geez, thanks.” You grumble and he chuckles when you stab the spoon a little too hard.

“I’m just saying it’s sunny either way.” You look up to see him chewing happily, his hair falling softly over his forehead. If you’re lucky to catch that certain angle, Minho had a streak of innocence and he wasn’t as intimidating as he appears to be.

“And how many girls have you swooned over with that?”

“Oh, a lot.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He suppresses a pleased smile as you scoff at him.

It was difficult to tell his sincerity with the constant playfulness in his tone.

“Are you?” His voice was low and curious this time, and for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye.

“What?” You traced the mess of cheese crumbs at the edge of your spoon in efforts to distract your nerves.

“Swooned?”

The evident heat of embarrassment on your cheeks betrays you and you shove a spoonful of cheesecake into your mouth.

“Barely.”

//

“You know, you’re welcome to crash at mine.” Minho offers as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He leans against the doorway of his apartment with a clenched jaw, fighting a huge smile.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You retort, looking rather appalled, “No thanks. You can’t just fish me with compliments –it’s not that easy, by the way.”

“All I did was promise you cake and you were out looking like–”

“Did you just?” You gasp in disbelief, “And to think I fell for your looking like sunshine crap.”

“You fell for it?” Minho grins smugly as he crosses both arms over his chest.

“That… is not the point right now, you damn liar.”

“You fell for it.”

“Goodnight, Minho.” You mutter, peeling his jacket of yourself and shoving it onto his chest peevishly.

“Lace, huh?” He voices behind you as you scurry back towards your place.

Lace?

Realization hits you and you gape in horror silently, turning around to see him with that dumb smile of his.

“You !”

At the burst of your reaction, he retreats and cowers as you flail your arms angrily towards him.

“Will you let me explain?” He whines, grabbing hold of your arms hurriedly to steady you.

“No! You’re–” The rest of your protests were a muffled mess when Minho places a hand over your mouth.

“I couldn’t let you walk around like that, hence the jacket.”

“You could’ve told me first!” You yank his hand off your chin, glaring bullets into him. “You had the view to yourself, you creep.”

“My point exactly.” He stifles a smile, backing away once more.

“You’re asking for it.”

“For what exactly?”

“I’m leaving! Goodnight!”

//