It was a quiet night. You quietly observed, from your peripheral vision as Dinner Plates Eyes fussed around the house, setting every corner straight and wielding a vacuum cleaner like it was a sword. You had offered to help but after you up his socks (to his horror) with the vacuum, he had shook his head vehemently when you tried to offer any more aid.

  "I realised I don't know your name." You blurted out as he wiped the tabletop deftly with a damp cloth. This guy was a household chore cleanliness maniac, no doubt about it. The spick and span interior of his pad would put your maids to shame.   Without pausing and looking up, he said firmly, "Do Kyungsoo. You can just call me by my surname."   "Kyungsoo?" You couldn't hide your laugh. That was such a small boy name that didn't suit his serious demeanor but he stopped his wiping and frowned at you. You immediately sobered up.    "Is your name geo-chin or something?" (Geochin is Korean for rude.)    Ignoring his sarcasm, you laughed brightly and told him your name... But he insisted for your surname.   You baulked. "Do you usually call your friends by their surnames?"   "Are you my friend?" He asked so matter-of-factly that you felt stung, but you quickly shrugged it off. "I guess not, but you're my friend, Kyungsoo." You grinned with as much aplomb as you could muster, drawing your lips into an exaggerated smile. As expected, he winced, as if your smile had disgusted him.   At that moment, your stomach had to let an unceremonious rumble. You coughed to hide it, but without batting an eyelid, Kyungsoo headed for the kitchen and began taking out pots and pans, to your surprise and relief (that he didn't make fun of you, thank God.)   "Wait, you're cooking?!" You couldn't believe this cold, aloof boy actually knew how to rustle up a meal.   "No, I'm taking a shower." He deadpanned, but immediately added, "Any allergies?"    "Uh, nope! Do you want me to buy take-out instead, it's more convien-"   "I'll be done in fifteen."   -   If you were surprised at how domestically capable this serious, proper formal-speaking boy was, the shock you experienced when you tasted how good his kimchi spaghetti was blew your mind.   "Your parents raised you well," You mused candidly, taking a hearty bite of the spaghetti. "You put any housewife out there to shame, boy!"   Kyungsoo just stared at you, his wide eyes glimmering. "Thanks," he muttered, then spoke up authoritatively, "Just eat up, don't talk while you're eating." You couldn't help noticing how neat he ate, and you made a mental note to eat more daintily and less like a cow, although you suspected that he couldn't judge you any more.   So dinner passed in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, not an awkward one. Weirdly enough, even though you just met him, he didn't feel like a stranger boy. On the contrary, you felt more at home than you had ever been the past few days, what with your estrangement from your parents. Heck, when was the last time your parents even sat down for a meal with you, much less cook for you?   You didn't notice that you were tearing up at the thought until Kyungsoo gaped at you and rushed to get tissues.    "I'm f-fine!" You said defensively, swatting at your eyes forcefully.    "Are you sure?" Kyungsoo's look of concern made you feel like crying even harder.   "I... Have a low tolerance for spice."   "Are you homesick?" He didn't skip a beat.   You gulped. Were you that transparent? "Well, yeah, sort of." You sighed, but you didn't want to bother your new acquaintance with your problems. He was the type to keep as much distance as possible and you felt bad to impose yourself mentally when you already enroached on his physical space, which he took so much pride and effort in maintaining.   "I'll make an exception for you. You can talk over dinner." Ky