I dash out of the changing room and frantically begin looking for footwear.

What?

Don’t look at me like that! I can’t go to gym with my slippers?? How uncool! Minho simply stands over my head and breathes and at that point, his capability to breathe in my vicinity is so irking that I almost curse him where everytime he breathes, he farts too. He looks very perplexed, slightly annoyed too but come on, I know he’s not annoyed with me. He can’t. I’m the embodiment of kawaii. Add the shrillest tone for special effects.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and look under his bed to find something. I can’t go barefoot. I mean, I can but I won’t? Like, what the are you thinking?

And it’s so cute how Minho just installs himself over my head, trying to assess my actions, making those faces where one is having for the first time and somehow forgot to clean properly,  instead of starting his program and reacting by going, say, uh Taemin-ah, what do you want? he just blinks. 

“Give me your shoes.” I decide that I shall be shameless for the sake of our relationship. Now that I stand before him, visibly shorter but IQ cutting through the roof while his lays flat on the ground like his sense of humour, he still has the ing audacity to make the same constipated-first-time-- face at me.

“What?” Please, I didn’t ask you any mathematical question for you to sound and look so genuinely mystified. Because first of all, that’s ­un-possible when 1+1 makes me think of a window before my mind processes the answer to be 2 and second of all that is not a word. But since impossible says I-am-possible, I shall boycott that word in this conspicuous moment.

“These, Choi Minho! We are already late.” I press, footing his feet as if me doing that will somehow make the shoes evaporate from his feet and condense onto mine. “It goes with my outfit!” I am wearing yellow, his shoes are yellow. Hence they belong to me. 

Matchy-matchy.

21^st Century boys but still don’t know that presentation matters the most.  

I point out the indisputable truth in Minho’s face with a big duh tone because it should be common sense to this tall waste of space of planet earth to see through my ingenious visions. Ingenious, aesthetically-blocked, selfish visions.

But of course, being handsome comes with its cons. You lack intelligence since God took too much time into perfecting that face.

Okay don’t alienate me. Have you never asked someone to take something off because it goes with your outfit?

No?

Well then that’s sad because sharing is caring and you never got a taste of that blessing.

You must be lonely.

“Taemin, we’re going gym-ing, not jamming.” He deadpans, or he thinks he deadpans but I am smart and I know the difference between deadpanning and being irated and unfortunately for you, Minho, you sound annoyed and jealous. I brew on a tiny smile, giggling.

“Haha so funny." Snap. And back to the sullen look. "We’ll take couple-goals videos and photos there, I should look good. Not that I don’t look good already. You get my point right?” I speak with my hands and I bet if my voice was incapable of entering his ears, he would have understood that I meant to call him boring in 1000 different ways. You ever heard of killing with kindness?

He, nonetheless of the disgusting face he’s making, takes off his shoes and kicks them to me, me thanking him with a smile which I assume is cute because I am making it. I assume so because he promptly extends his long limb and mercilessly tugs at my chubby cheeks.

After he has found himself a new pair and I have stuffed his with tissues to fit me, I check myself out in the mirror.

I look.............................2.

I heave out a sigh.

Okay yeah, I do look like a younger brother who inherited his elder brother’s belongings. Only the problem was, the elder brother somehow came out of Hagrid’s nonexistent and so I look like a cloth hanger for his clothes.

From the corner of my eyes, I catch him staring and he’s pleasingly smiling to himself and I, Lee Taemin, future Choi Taemin, take offense to that handsome smile! “Oh my God what are you doing standing there and staring? Mrs Choi, your son has forgotten all the punctuality rules!” I announce after I had checked that I don’t fall face-first while I am trying to be cool just because these Goddamn shoes are too big, wiggling my feet about to see if they begin dangling or slipping out.

When they don’t and I am stumbling out of the room because I convince myself they will slip out, I catch Minho’s last words before I slam the door in his face and make my way to the car.

“We are going to the gym…..not a wedding. What punctual…”

Yeah whatever.