The music blared throughout the apartment. You dance in your tight workout shorts as you put the newly bought and washed dishes away. Today was one of the best days of your life. You and your boyfriend Minho have moved in together.

         As you continue to dance, ignoring your surroundings and continue putting things away. A loud crash came from the other room, along with a lot of cursing, causing you to drop a glass, shattering it across the counter.

         “Minho! Are you okay?” You yell worried as you run into the other room. The bookcase was laying sideways on the floor, the lamp shade was tilted, and Minho was struggling to keep up the large dress, half full with your clothes. You run over and help push the dresser back up. When Minho was able to regain his energy, he stood up and glared at you.

         “Really?” He said, clearly irritated. Unaware of what you’ve done wrong, you step back.

         “Excuse me?” You say confused. Minho rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. What did I do? You ask yourself. You turn to leave the bed room when you hear him cuss again once he turned the music off. You sigh and head towards the foul language.

         “You broke the glass!” He said angrily.          

         “You were yelling! I thought you have gotten hurt! I’m sorry!” You yell. You push passed him in the kitchen and begin to clean up the glass with your hands.

         “You wouldn’t have broken anything if you weren’t deaf! I had been calling you to help me and you didn’t come! You didn’t even ask if I was okay!” He yelled back.

          Ignoring him, you continue to clean up the glass. Minho sighs and stomps out of the room. Why must he be like this? It wasn’t your fault you didn’t hear him. Maybe it was, you had turned the music up, but he had turned it on in the first place! As you pick up the last piece of glass in sight, you stand up and walk towards the trash can. Before you could make it to the trash, your bare feet both have a sharp pain and your fall, dropping the glass, which sticking into your palms when you try to catch yourself. You now have glass stuck in both your feet and both your hands, all of which are bleeding.

         “Minho! Please come here!” You call out, hoping he would come. Yet he didn’t come. The pain began to get worse.

         “Minho!” You called his name repeatedly in a scratchy voice, almost crying. When he turns into the kitchen, his annoyed eyes turn worried.

         “Jagiyah!” He calls out and rushes to you.

         “I’m sorry.” You start to cry, afraid that he is still upset with you. You can now understand why he was upset when you didn’t come when he called you.

         Minho shakes his head and pulls you up from the ground and rushes to the bathroom. He sets you down in the counter and looks for the first aid kit. You are silent the whole time he pulls the shards of glass from your feet and hands, and wraps them. When he is done, he sits back and stares at you.

         “I’m sorry I had the music up too loud and couldn’t hear you. I am also sorry for not asking if you were okay. Thank you for helping me.” You speak quietly. Minho pushes off the ground and stood in between your legs.

         “No, I’m sorry. I was rude and hurtful. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?” He eyed your arms and legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

         “I love you, Oppa.” You whisper. He laughed and pulled you closer. “I love you too.”