Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

He Chose Her

They had just barely parked and walked in when—

CRASH.

A flower vase. Smashed. On the floor. Water, petals, and glass everywhere.

Minho froze mid-step. Hyejin froze too.

Then—

"MROW!"
"HSSSS!"
"MEOOOW!"

Doongie leapt off the TV stand like a trained assassin. Soonie was under the couch with a string of yarn wrapped around his entire body like a cursed mummy. Dori? On top of the fridge. Eyes glowing like Satan's intern. A loaf of bread (unopened, thankfully) was dangling from the edge.

Minho slowly turned his head to Hyejin.

"I thought you said you fed them."

"I did!" she hissed, toeing off her shoes. "I left them snacks and new toys! They were fine this morning!"

As if to prove her wrong, Doongie zoomed past their ankles at light speed—directly into a standing lamp that toppled over with a heavy thud.

Minho put a hand to his forehead. "This isn't a house. This is a war zone."

Dori meowed in response. Loud. Smug.

They dropped their bags by the door, immediately entering Damage Control Mode™. Minho grabbed the paper towels and broom while Hyejin cornered Soonie and tried to gently unwrap the yarn from his very annoyed body.

"Babe, Dori just opened the fridge," Minho called from the kitchen.

"WHAT—?!"

Sure enough, Dori had his front paws on the fridge shelf like he paid rent and had rights. A cold pudding cup had already been pushed to the edge.

"NOT THE PUDDING!" Hyejin shrieked, lunging forward.

Minho was right behind her, grabbing Dori mid-crime like a scene from an action movie. "Gotcha, you tiny demon."

Dori hissed once. Then started purring, unbothered.

"You know, sometimes I think they do this on purpose," Hyejin muttered, holding the now-safe pudding like it was a newborn child.

"They do," Minho said grimly. "They've unionized."

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

Once the apartment was sort of restored, Minho flopped onto the couch face-down. "I'm applying to a fourth job so I can afford a live-in cat wrangler."

Hyejin joined him, laying sideways on top of his back. "We're the wranglers now."

"God help us."

"Mhm."

They were quiet for a moment—until a soft meow came from the floor.

Soonie had brought them his toy mouse. Peace offering.

Minho looked over the armrest at him.

"...We'll discuss your parole later."

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

Lunch was quiet, warm, and full of casual shoulder brushes and lazy smiles — the kind of domestic softness Minho loved more than he could admit.
Hyejin had made kimchi fried rice and soybean paste stew, and Minho had hovered beside her the entire time, pretending to help and really just sneaking bites off the cutting board.

But once they were done, once the dishes were cleared and the cats were (temporarily) asleep in a warm sun patch, Minho leaned back on the couch, arm resting over her shoulder.