Soyeon gives a hurried circle with her eyes around the room, their size a bigger size than they’re normally possible. She looks at Baekhyun’s dorm room with her hands fiddling together with a sort of nervousness that gnawed at the back of her head, urged her to do something regarding what she’s currently seeing. Baekhyun beside her is pouting, his lips jutting cutely at being scrutinized so openly. He stands with arms crossed over his chest.

“How in the world are you living in this mess, Baekhyun?” Soyeon asks with frenzy, her hair practically a mess with how harshly she’d been tugging at it. Her eyes flicker here and there, seeing piles of thrown shirts, jeans and socks, and other piles of eaten food boxes and things that don’t look humanly possible jagged like rocks over shore between his couches. 

“I’m a guy!” Baekhyun exclaims in a loud, offended voice, throwing his arms over him in exaggeration. “And in university! Living alone! What did you expect?”

She swivels around him so quickly her head might as well snap in half, her eyes are still wide. “Your home is literally a garbage can, Baekhyun, how can you even maneuver your way around your stuff?”

“I tiptoe, obviously.” He replies with a tantrum of a ten years old trying to outsmart his mother. Soyeon’s jaw falls at the audacity. 

She moves around his apartment while — yes, tiptoeing — and heads over to his mini kitchen, trying to hard to ignore the stench that comes from his sink. She weavers towards the mini-fridge he owns and smacks it open, Baekhyun grumbling behind her.

“And you literally have no actual food!” She exclaims, waving a hand towards his fridge in emphasis. “All of this is canned goods and frozen pizzas. I know you adore pizza but this is too much. Don’t you have anything healthy?”

“I have bottles of milk?” Baekhyun blinks innocently as he comes over and stands beside her, peering at his own fridge, too. “And baking soda?”

“What are you going to do with baking soda?” She has this deep urge to force her fingers through her hair again, but she knows that she has been yanking through it for the last half an hour and didn’t want to cause herself early balding. “Wash your hair with it? Or make a half-assed cake?”

He pouts more at her words, grumbling under his breath. He’d have looked entirely too cute if it weren’t by the trash scattered around his one-bedroom dorm house.  She sighs at seeing pouting so miserably and goes over to press her lips against his forehead, kissing him. His pout fades a little.

“Can we go to buy you things that are healthy, please?” She murmurs, and Baekhyun wraps an arm around her waist so that he can bring her closer to him. She leans her hip against his. 

“I don’t know how to cook so they will be a waste of money.”

“Are you kidding me? Did you forget I exist?” She smirks smugly. “I make kickass food all the time.”

His face practically glows like a star in a Christmas tree, and he looks down at her with such admiration and love she melts into goo. “Are you saying you’ll cook me food?”

“However you want and whenever you want.” She coos, tiptoeing and going to peck his mouth; leaving a trail of heat on his lips.

“Aw you’re precious,” he says after she kisses him, and he hugs her by the waist into his side more as she stands over him. “You know how much I love your food.”

True. He loves her food and has more than once told her it resembles the parental food made by love. Her parents have been over-pushing and strict so she had to learn how to make food earlier than any girl she knows in her life. Before when they were in Busan in their high school years, it was her that used to live in a dorm and had to make all of her meals, which she wrapped half of to him. 

“With one condition, though.” She bargains. Baekhyun’s face falls and he whines out loud. She gives him an unamused, blank look, and he stops whining, sighing out loud.

“Name it.”

“You’ll have to put more effort into cleaning, Baekhyun,” she pulls herself from his embrace and waddles her way around his place, tugging on a green shirt with her toes. “And wash your clothes, you’re not a child anymore.”

He pouts but he still sounds cheeky when he speaks next. “I have an amazing girlfriend who’d do my stuff for me?” When she looks at him in a not so amused look, he blinks cutely. 

“Good luck trying to convince her to do your bidding.” She sarcastically refers to herself in the third person.

“Soyeon,” he whines out loud, shaking in his place and wiggling around, “You know I hate manual work! And I don’t know how to wash up my laundry! My shirts always come out with a different color whenever I wash them!”

“That’s because you wash them with black and white T-shirts,” she rolls her eyes. “You need to separate your clothes according to color, Baekhyun.”

He just pouts in silence as a response. She goes back to him and ruffles his soft, black hair. “Fine, I’ll teach you.”

She wants to walk away and begins collecting his thrown clothes but he locks his arms around her waist, pulling her to her. He wraps his arms around her in a way that’s caging, preventing her from moving even in her place. An arm around her waist and another around his shoulders. He leans against her ear and whispers, his tone more of a whining tone than a serious one. 

“I told you to come here so that we cuddle while watching a movie and being all romantic and here you are being a mother hen,” he leans more and pecks her cheek. “Can we let the cleaning to other people.”

“Other people?” She asks quizzically. 

“I’m going to hire someone to clean things for me,” he says proudly, her hot breath falling down her neck and her back sensually. She shivers pleasantly. “You know that I’m busy with university and actually living my life and I’m not in any mood to clean up my.. stuff.”

“Seriously?” Her eyes a