About an hour later I was awoken from my nap by a loud thump coming from the hall. I stood slowly, making sure nothing was hurt too bad, and went to investigate the strange noise. No one was in the hallway when I opened the door, and I almost turned back, thinking it was just my imagination when I heard voices coming from the living room. I closed the door behind me as I fully exited my room, and headed in the direction I heard the voices. Halfway there I heard the talking stop, and shuffling feet. I got there only in time to see a flash of a mop of brown hair before they were shoved out of the apartment by Minho.

“Who was that?” I asked, wondering why he’d throw someone out of the room so rudely.

“A friend,” he replied simply before changing the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I responded slowly, giving him a suspicious stare. “A little sore, but nothing I won’t heal from.” Minho nodded then went over to the sofa and took a seat. He perched himself at the edge, so as to not sit on a take out box laying open behind him. He shuffled around all the junk on the coffee table in front of him before finding the remote and flicking on the television. Changing the station to some sports network, Minho leaned against the armrest of the seat, still avoiding the trash.

I sighed before shuffling over and picking up the disgusting, rotting piece of filth and a few other objects next to it. I brought that into the kitchen, and threw it in the trash, which also needed to be taken out. I glanced around and blew a piece of hair out of my face. I sunk down into a chair at the table and rested my head on my wrist. This is going to be a lot of work…I think I’ll start up tomorrow, and try to get the bathroom and kitchen done.

I glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. 6 o’clock, huh? Maybe I should make dinner. I dragged my body out of the chair and over to the fridge. It was no surprise that I found no food other than a half-empty carton of orange juice and an old, moldy sandwich.

“Minho-ssi?” I called out from my spot, still looking into the empty refrigerator.

“Neh?” I jumped in shock, twirling around to find him leaning up against the doorframe. I threw my hand up to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Sorry,” he apologized, but he obviously didn’t mean it. He was grinning, not even trying to hide the fact that he thought it was funny that he scared me. I narrowed my eyes at him a bit before getting back to my question.

“Sure you are. Are you hungry? Have you eaten?” He shook his head, to which question I’m not sure.

“I didn’t eat, but I could. Don’t have any food though, as you’ve seen.” I nodded in his general direction and took a second to think. Take out? No, he’s eaten enough of that as it is, but what else can we get that is quick. Pizza? Hmmm, sounds good.

“Where’s the phone?” He pointed behind him, in the living room. I walked past him, and our arms brushed slightly against one another‘s. I felt chills run up my arm, but ignored it and kept walking. I picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number.

“Lee’s pizza, what would you like?” I made my order and hung up.

“Pizza, huh?” Again I jumped from the shock of his voice. “Sounds good. It’s been a while since I’ve had it.” Minho sauntered over to the couch and took a seat, this time leaning back into the cushions with nothing in his way. He relaxed and turned up the volume on the soccer game. I stood behind the couch, leaning over the back and resting my elbows on the edge.

“How can you watch this stuff? It’s so boring.” Minho stiffened his back, and slowly turned towards me. He had a look of shock and disbelief on his face.

“You don’t like sports?”

“No, they’re fine if you’re playing them, it’s just that I find it boring to watch.” His posture relaxed slightly, and he turned back to face the flat screen TV.

“Oh. I guess that makes sense…sort of.”

“I take it you’re a big sports guy?” I raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t even looking to see it.

“You could say that. I don’t get much of a chance to play though.” I was just about to ask why when the doorbell rang. I went to answer the door while Minho got the money.

We didn’t talk much throughout dinner, making small talk here and there, but I do feel like I’ve gotten to know him a little better. I cleaned up when we were finished before heading over to the large shoved into the corner of the room. I browsed through the many books, a lot of which were academic, until I found one that piqued my interest. I took that and a glass of water back to my room to relax and read. On the way I had glanced at Minho to find him looking at me from the corner of his eye, but his gaze quickly flashed back to the TV when he saw me looking back at him. What a weird guy. I thought, but shrugged it off, going to my room for the night.