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The apartment was as clean as that one episode of Spongebob Squarepants where Spongebob's house was so squeaky clean it almost looked metallic. You know the one. Either that, or the author of this story saw it in a fever dream.
Jiseol was wiping the sink so intensely that she made it look like she was taking part in a Marie Kondo wannabe competition. She was drenched in sweat, having spent the entire evening deep cleaning the entire apartment. After her exam that morning, she hadn't been able to concentrate on studying for the next one because of how stressed she was so as per usual, she resorted to scrubbing every inch of existence that she could find. Normally it would be the hard labor of cleaning that would reduce her stress by taking her mind off things, but for some reason, not even the beauty of peeling dirt out of grout could distract her from her current source of stress.
Accidentally knocking over the men's body wash on the nearby shelf, Jiseol paused. The bottle laid at her feet somewhat accusingly, taunting her that it belonged to her current source of stress. She remembered how horrified she was when she first discovered that Donghyuck was using a 3-in-1 bottle for his shampoo, conditioner and body wash; she was even more horrified when he started using her stuff instead as retaliation. She had then gotten him a gift set of proper products as a plead to stop using hers and the dropped body wash was one of them.
Oh God, I drop one thing and I think about him for three minutes? Jiseol grimaced. She hastily picked up the bottle, returned it to its original place and proceeded to wipe the pipes, praying that she could stop thinking about Donghyuck and his beautiful, goofy smile just for one second.
"Why does this place look like a Mr Clean commercial?"
Well. That didn't help. She didn't count on her roommate being home so soon—she was hoping she'd get to avoid him since she had a paper in the morning and his was in the afternoon.
"Jiji," Jiseol tried her hardest not to respond to the voice at the bathroom door. "What are you stressed about?"
The question, however, caught her by surprise.
"Huh?"
"You're cleaning like the world is going to run out of cleaning supplies tomorrow," Donghyuck said, leaning against the doorframe. "You only reach this extent when you're stressed. What are you stressed about?"
You? How much you mean to me? The fact that I'm in love with you? The fact that you know me well enough to know I turn into a cleaning nutjob when I'm stressed?
"Uh..." Jiseol trailed on dumbly.
"And didn't I tell you to wear gloves when you go on these sprees?" Donghyuck's tone changed from light to stern. He stepped into the bathroom, crouching to where Jiseol was in the same position under the sink and reached for her hands to examine them. The former had no idea how much the latter wanted to turn into a puddle right then and there.
