seungmin never expected it to be this hard. he stood in the kitchen, his hands hovering awkwardly over the pile of dishes you’d left behind earlier. wearing your apron that hung way too big on him, he tried to mimic the way you always moved—swift and graceful—but everything he did felt wrong. the dish soap slipped from his hands as he reached for the plates, and he winced as the sponge slipped off the counter, falling onto the floor.

you watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a soft chuckle. “need help, babe?” you teased, crossing your arms as he fumbled with a fork, attempting to clean it. he shot you a sheepish smile, clearly frustrated but trying not to show it.

“i’ve got it,” he muttered, but then a plate slipped from his hands, shattering with a loud crash. your laughter echoed through the room as he groaned in defeat, finally turning to face you. "maybe i’ll just stick to being your husband instead of your housekeeper," he admitted, and you couldn’t help but laugh even more, stepping forward to wrap your arms around him. "you’re still adorable, though," you said, kissing his cheek, and he let out a soft sigh of relief. at least he didn’t fail at that part.