Welcome to Hunhan's residence. Where semi empty cups of bubble tea fill the empty nooks of fridge, rubic cubes as the choice of home decor as they sprawl on the coffee table in the living room, wardrobe densed with outfits that coordi noonas could only dream of laying their hands into, faint waft of vanilla in the layer of oxygen because Luhan thinks he is only  as sweet when he smells like one, shelves of books of various thickness with dog-eared triangles jutting out between pages because Sehun likes to read but never actually finish them. And then you have Kim Jongin, the best of childhood friend that Sehun could rely and kick in the shin for being his dumb self to.