¤What the hell¤

Skipping down the stairs and humming his all time favourite; Avril Lavigne ‘What the hell’ , Dareum thinks he is almost done passing all the security checks present in this home. First his mother; who stopped ranting about some Ms.Kim copying her desginer clothes literally when Dareum reminded her that he was getting late for school, to which she scowls at him and sends him off saying that he should stop acting like a nosy snake and pay attention to his eggs. Secondly, his father, who, honestly, could go on about his medicines for eternities if not presented with the well-kept box. The urge to slip in rat poison was high though but then he thought about all the loss in his business if God's summoning jutsu was to be used on even a single member of the family.

Thirdly and most irrelevant of all was his aunt Haesook asking him if he had breakfast or not because what the hell, wasn't she there to witness the whole chaos when Bohee was informing him about eggs. He suddenly realises he hates eggs now.“Dareum! Pass me my shirt!” The heck? He rolls his eyes so loud, he is pretty sure their neighbour, Ms.Ahn's telescope is already out capturing the likely. Mid way through stomping his feet, scraching eggs off his breakfast list and challenging an unaware Ms.Ahn for the breaking news business, Dareum swings his backpack off his shoulder and dumps it on the couch.

Taking purposeful yet half-hearted steps to the ironing room, when Dareum sees the iron pressed against Taemin's shirt, he does not think much of it. He simply detaches the plug and pulls the metallic part off it, only to gawk at the sight before him. With a sluggish pace, he raises the shirt by its shoulders and turns on his heels. “And don't forget to bring the shoes. I think I left them by the door!” He heard Taemin's voice echoing through the house, coming nearer as the minutes pass by. Soon, he finds Taemin rushing down the stairs with his T-shirt still intact and his sports' bag slumped over his shoulder. He dashes right past a horror-struck Dareum and plops down on the couch to put on his watch. 

Dareum walks forth, the hole as big as his own brain right before his eyes. He looks at Taemin through the hole and it takes his brother a few seconds to register a figure approaching. Taemin cranes his neck to meet his brother's face. They exchange a look of skeptism, some telepathic questions related to who, how and just what the hell? through the big . “Hyung.” He finally dares himself to speak, or rather choke out between his gritted chuckle. Taemin raises an index in the air and gestures the younger to come closer; his face basically screaming rage. Dareum jerks the shirt into Taemin's hand with a rather peaceful smile for the weird face he was making when he discovered it.

“Who did this?”

“Probably a certain someone whose Australian parrots you freed? He lives in the same house, by the way.” Within mere seconds of his echoed laughter and point of fingers, Taemin storms off somewhere. Dareum slips his hands inside his pocket and produces out his phone, a devious smile racking his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemem, get ready for another breaking news. Ms. Ahn, you can't win from  DR.”

¤

“Grandma! Everything has a limit!” Minho protests, propping down on the couch beside Yeojung. Let's just say he did not like the idea of his $600 worth Autralian parrots being able to be free and live like normal birds.

“What's wrong, Minho?” It takes Yeojung's snatched attention to be snatched for the second time when Taemin rushes in with his hot shirt in his hand. 

“Grandma! This disgusting elephant of a grandson of yours knows no limits!” Yeojung reminds herself to not cackle in Taemin's face when the boy raises the ruined shirt to her view. “Look at what he did–” 

“–Heavens! 19 years of consuming Oxygen of planet Earth and this useless grandson of yours still doesn't know how to iron his clothes.” Minho breathes out a dramatic sigh, looking eerily sympathetic. 

Pathetic. He's pathetic! 

“Ay Potato-face! Stay in your limits!”

“I am not an integration problem, duck-face–”

When Yeojung finishes letting her grandsons argue, she pivots on her spot and faces Taemin, cutting in. “–Taemin, don't you have an exam today?” The boy's waterline stretches in horror as he checks the time on the his wristwatch and juts out a bottom lip, the horror of getting late for his exam urging the hair on his neck to stand. At this point, he only has one option: Beg. He gets on his knees before his grandma and pokes her thigh. 

“Grandma. My exam starts at 8:30 and it's already 8:00. Tell him to drop me off! Dad and uncle left for work with cars! Please please please grandma! I'm gonna go put on my shoes–” Taemin springs to his feet and grabs the door to exit but Minho's holler halts him in his steps. 

“–No. I am not your Pick-and-drop service.” 

“Minho.” Yeojung jumps in before either one of them could K.O the other down. “What is this nonsense! He's your responsibility. Why are you always squabbling with him like a little kid?” 

Of course! If you marry two kids together, what else do you expect?! 

“Responsibilty? More like an 80 kg sack of disappointment!” Minho scrunches his face in agitation, running fingers through his brunette locks. Yeojung inhales deeply and touches Minho's arm when he notices the adorable face her grandson is making at her. Somehow, for Taemin, it always works–just how does it happen? He has no interest in knowing.

“Don't talk nonsense and go drop him off. Please?” The older of the two lets out a grunt at the back of his throat and speaks through his teeth. Taemin, being the unaffected, selfish, icy human he is, just clicks his tongue in victory. However, the serene atmosphere did not reside for long, for, Minho bombarts the younger with another series of insults. 

“Then tell him to iron a new shirt. I'm not taking him on my bike when he's looking like a clown!” Taemin gets back on his knees and aims a witchy finger (Origin: Minho's brain) at Minho. 

“This! This very same attitude to rule over me makes my blood boil, grandma. He talks as if I am not married to him but he won me in an auction!”

“Oh shut up! G