#doyeom

Most people have a balance of things they like or don’t. Not Seokmin. Seokmin likes a lot of things. Seokmin likes going to karaoke after a long week of testing at school. Seokmin likes singing his lungs out to whatever power ballad he comes across within the confined and padded room, performing for the three or four friends he got to tag along with as if he were making his singing debut. Seokmin liked watching television, cartoons, and funny anime that made him laugh until his sides felt they would burst open. Seokmin likes seeing his friends laugh along with him even if the jokes aren’t that funny. Yes, Seokmin likes a lot of things.

         Seokmin likes the feeling of the cool breeze at the tail end of fall, hence why he found himself parked right on the first bench he saw as he strolled out of the last class of the day. With his backpack beside him, Seokmin leaned back and watched as the rest of the campus moved on around him. He liked people watching too; liked seeing people find comfort in the bubble of their friends or lovers, giggling as they strolled through the familiar paths of the university. He liked hearing the monotonous whoosh of the building doors opening and closing in a familiar routine. He liked it because it was familiar; he could plan for the familiar. 

         Seokmin leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he flipped his phone from his back pocket and into his hands. It was just barely 3:30, he had the entire afternoon and evening to himself. What should he do? There were many things he wanted to do. Unlocking his phone enabled him to see all of his apps, neatly placed in boxes depending on their use. ‘Entertainment’, ‘Social Media’, ‘School Work’, and ‘Finances’ all of it was organized. All of it was familiar, and that was what Seokmin liked. Lazy fingers scrolled through the options. His Twitter icon held onto a bright red bubble with ‘13’ inside, and Seokmin chuckled, clicking it open and skimming the frantic tweeting of his friends as they discussed back and forth about something he had no interest in. Leaving one like to show some support, he closed out the app and was finally rid of the pesky red bubble.

         “Spacing out again?” A gentle voice with a hint of playfulness alerted Seokmin to look up. He glanced over to see a head of brunette fluff plop beside him, two honey-bun cheeks grinning. Legs in denim jeans crossed at the ankles, and Seokmin only offered a half smile.

         “No, not this time.” He said. “Just finished class. You?”

         The brunette putting his head on Seokmin’s shoulder and letting out an exasperated sigh was enough to tell Seokmin of his feelings. “I have two-night classes on Thursdays.”

         “Ouch.”

         “Teaching is a bitch.” Seokmin snorted, his half-smile widening to one that took up his entire face. “I have a presentation on effective teaching strategies due tomorrow. I’ll be awake until my eyes bleed, Hyung.”

         “Awww, Kwannie. I’m sorry.” He patted his friend’s hair affectionately, hoping to relieve some of his tension. “It will all be worth it when you become the best teacher in the country. Teaching the generations of tomorrow!” Seungkwan laughed a bit. “I’ll have dinner ready when you get home, okay?”

         A warm hum in reply made Seokmin’s smile soften, but not leave his face. Knowing Seungkwan was satisfied made Seokmin feel the same. “Thanks, Hyung. You’re the best.”

Seokmin likes – no – Seokmin adores his roommate, Boo Seungkwan. The duo met when Seungkwan lugged his bags into his dorm last year with his mom and three chattering older sisters, a flustered freshman rooming with the one sophomore at the time who offered out of all of those who were asked. 

“I’m thinking of grilled pork and some sides,” Seokmin said, and Seungkwan was practically salivating. “Sound good?”

“Delicious.” Seungkwan smiled, sitting back up. Arms stretched over his head, another groan escaping his lips. Seokmin noticed this one sounded more optimistic than the last; another thing Seokmin found he liked about Seungkwan. “I’ll be home around 7, I guess. By the time class lets out and I catch the bus-.”

“I’ll be sure to have it ready by then.” Seokmin patted his friend on the shoulder. “You should get going before you’re late to class.”

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” Seokmin shrugged, finally rising from his seat and slinging his bag over his shoulder.  

“I’m thinking maybe I’ll study in the library for a little while before I head home.” Seungkwan nodded, eyes sparkling. “I want to try and get as much work as I can done this week so I can focus on my lines.” 

“That’s right. The play is coming up. When do auditions start?”

“Next week.” Seokmin pulled the rolled-up paper from the side of his bag, unraveling it to show a beautifully decorated flyer. The bright colors and symbols were meant to attract new eyes to the play. “I still have a few more lines to get.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Seungkwan assured. “You always nail your auditions!”

Seokmin’s beaming smile fell to a half-one again. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink at the compliment. “You think?” he asked.

“Of course! Must I remind you that I was the one who made a very detailed sign last year?” No, Seungkwan didn’t. Nobody would forget the gaudy thing, made with makeshift items one would find at the local craft store and glued onto a large piece of paper that Seungkwan waved from the back of the theatre like one of those leaf fans used to cool down an ancient emperor.

“I dunno. I’m kind of nervous this time.”

“Then go run lines to yourself like the loveable weirdo you are, and I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Oh, haha.” Seokmin frowned, though he couldn’t stay mad at Seungkwan’s playful smile. “Bye, Kwannie.” Seokmin waved his friend off down the path, the education building nestled nicely between the theater building Seokmin just left and the science building. Seokmin watched until Seungkwan turned up the steps, eyes seeming to beam as a few friends waved him over. Seokmin watched as they latched onto him, the group chatting as they disappeared behind a turned corner.

Seokmin liked that his friends had friends. When his friends had friends, it meant Seokmin was simply that: another friend. 

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         The library was usually bustling right after the last set of afternoon classes ended, and Seokmin made his way in, bag at his side and headphones pressed into his ears. He liked the smell of the library, always a sweet scent like vanilla or cinnamon that made one feel they were in a bakery, more than in a library full of old books. Seokmin didn’t mind though. Setting the bag down, he pulled out a laptop, turned it on, and watched the blue light assault his eyes so hard he had to squint for a second. Careful fingers glided along the mouse pad, opening up a half-completed essay on a modern play and how it compared to the original. Seokmin chose Mama Mia! because, of course, he did. He’d seen the American movie millions of times with his sister and mother, and the play in Gangnam just as many times. He could write this essay in his sleep….so why was it only halfway done? Seokmin took a few silent minutes to skim through what he had already written, comparisons of Sophie’s musical portrayal compared to that of American actress Amanda Seyfried being the bulk of the first page. Seokmin pursed his lips together, eyes scanning line by line until he reached the end of the essay. Two out of four pages were completed. And it was due by tomorrow.. Seokmin leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

         Seokmin liked studying the lines of plays more than he liked writing about plays, so when he ended up with the script in his hand for the upcoming school musical, XCalibur, a story of King Arthur, he wasn't surprised. Seokmin had read the story in school because what angsty teenager didn’t, and he loved the idea of challenging himself with the role of the lead. Flipping through the script, he scanned the blue-highlighted lines. Beside each chunk of Arthur’s lines, he scribbled a few notes and ideas for how he wanted to portray himself. Or, well, how the director would want him to be portrayed. His lips quietly mouthed the lines, nose scrunching when Arthur was disgusted and eyes widening when he was shocked. When someone at the next table coughed, Seokmin froze, his lips stopping mid-lip-synced sentence. His head turned towards the sound, locking eyes with a blonde girl whose hair was tugged into two tight braids. Her glasses that sat atop her nose were pushed up just slightly, allowing Seokmin to briefly catch her eyes, which studied him. He could feel his eyebrows raised as he sat frozen in a stunned expression, lips parted slightly. The sight of this girl glaring daggers into him for a mere second was enough to get him to turn back to the script, face completely resetting back to normal. Was she sick? Why was she in the library if she was sick, though? That’s not very sanitary…Seokmin felt panic bubble in his chest. Seokmin flipped his script closed and shoved it in his bag. 

He would save running lines for home, less coming across like one of those ‘weirdos’ Seungkwan mentioned.

        If he wasn’t going to write his essay…or study his lines…what else could one do in the library? Read, of course. Seokmin traveled up the steps to the second level, immediately catching sight of different people huddled around tables and on computers as they attempted to get their work done. A few were lounging on big, comfy chairs and simply reading. He looked around for a minute, scanning the different options. Seokmin liked to read about romance. Seokmin liked romance, period. There was something about seeing the progression of two people who were once strangers coming together and forming a new timeline, one that intertwined with each other in ways they may or may not have imagined. 

         Eyes darted from top shelf to bottom, at the spines of various books hoping to stand out among the sea of other romance novels. Seokmin didn’t care; he’d read them all. Reaching up, Seokmin took hold of one that caught his eye. A deep red cover with the outline of two rings sitting on top of one another, supporting one another in what looked like an empty void otherwise. The title ‘P for perfect’ was written in English and Korean, as well as the author. Seokmin flipped through the pages for a second, taking in the few words and short blurbs that he could as pages whirred by his eyes, before tucking it under his arm and leaving a book-shaped hole in the shelf where he pulled it. Seokmin pursed his lips, studying the hole for a second before sliding all of the books down just a tad and closing it up. “There.” He whispered. That hole would have eventually led to books falling over due to the mere weight the others. Seokmin liked knowing they were secure. 

         As he walked down the aisle just a bit more, reaching a wide lounging area, he caught more individuals buried in their books to study, a similar sight regardless of where in the library he looked. He caught sight of one person in particular sitting at a seat alone, not studying but instead sitting beside a large stack of papers. Seokmin couldn’t explain why he wanted to stare – maybe he was a weirdo, and that’s why the girl from downstairs was looking at him funny – but he stood behind one of the walls of books and watched the male press the tip of a red pen to his lips. His brows were furrowed, deep in thought at whatever he was reading. His hair was just barely hiding Seokmin from seeing his side profile, light brown hair hanging in front of his face until a hand came up and tucked the strands behind his ear. He….was fucking gorgeous! A nose that fell to a perfect point, and wide eyes that seemed focused on the task before him. Lips covering the tip of that red pen protruded slightly, looking as if he were almost chewing down on the writing utensil.

Seokmin liked a lot of things….and this guy’s side profile was now one of them.  

Pen pressed to paper finally, allowing the man’s lips to press together once again as he scribbled away. Seokmin finally retreated when the male looked up, light brown locks swaying a bit. Seokmin couldn’t see, but it seemed someone else was calling for him. Waving his head in acknowledgment, Seokmin watched Brown-Locks stand up and stuff his papers in his bag before heading towards the figure he knew was blocked by the bookshelf before him. When the man was out of his sight, Seokmin stepped into view, his book held tightly to his chest.

I wonder if he saw me at all. Seokmin thought to himself, though he was unsure if he’d like that or not.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         Seokmin liked to cook, but he was neither good nor bad at it. He knew basic recipes his mother taught him when he was younger and learned some new ones off the internet. Seungkwan helped sometimes, but Seokmin liked the sight of his friend’s eyes sparkling when he took the first bite of his food.

         “It’s delicious, Hyung.” Seungkwan always beams; thus Seokmin always finds himself pressed against the kitchen counter making sure that the rice finishes cooking at the same time that the pork finishes grilling. He doesn’t mind, though. Seungkwan has always made sure he was a good roommate. He has from the time they were in the dorms until this year when they decided to get one of the apartments just off campus in hopes of a little more freedom. The rent being pretty cheap, even without the discount they gave to students attending school nearby, meant it wasn’t the most spacious, but it had what two college students in their twenties who yearned for a bit more freedom required. A kitchen, two bedrooms, and their own little laundry space tucked neatly into the corner. What they saved by cheapening out on the rent they used to keep their pantry filled with snacks and goodies, the perfect spot that the duo found themselves graviating towards for a snack during those late night study sessions. It was their own permanent sleep over and Seokmin liked that. It was exactly what he needed.

         The clock read 6:15 when Seokmin next looked at it, and he looked down at the spread he had been preparing since he arrived home. Once dinner was done, and Seungkwan offered to do the dishes, Seokmin could sit on the couch with a snack and-.

         Bzzzzt. Bzzt.

         Seokmin peeled his eyes from the clock just long enough to feel the vibration of his phone from his back pocket. With a quick cleaning of his rice-covered hands, he flipped open his phone. Kwannie followed by a string of orange emoji appeared on his phone. Without missing a beat, Seokmin opened the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hey!” He beamed.

         “Ah, hey….” Immediately, Seokmin felt his smile falter and his other hand drop to his side. His stomach did a flip that made him want to hurl. “Seokmin-Hyung, listen. I don’t know if I’ll make it home for dinner after all.” 

         “O-oh.” Seokmin muttered.

         “I’m sorry. My friends invited me to the library to get the rest of this project done and I need all the help I can get. I think there are some books I need to get at the library, too.” Seungkwan sighed. “I’m so sorry.” Hearing Seungkwan’s amplified apology burned Seokmin’s ears, and he toyed with one of the loops in his jeans.

         “Sorry?” he asked. “Why are you sorry?” Seokmin looked down at the rice cooling down. “You need to finish your project, after all.”

         “Do you want to come back and join us for dinner? I’ll pay!”

         “No, no. Go have fun with your friends.” He assured. “I’ll save you some leftovers for tomorrow, that’s all.”

         “Are you sure?” his voice was soft, shaky, almost bordering embarrassed.

         “Sure,” Seokmin assured. “I can’t eat all of this by myself.” He giggled. “Go get your work done for your presentation. That’s…much more important.”

         Seungkwan must have caught Seokmin’s delay because he paused a second before replying. “Okay. Thank you, Hyung. I’m sorry it’s so last minute. I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

         “Make it up to me by getting an A, how about that.” Seokmin heard a breathy chuckle from his friend. “Just let me know when you’re headed home, yeah? And be safe.”

         “Right. I’ll see you later on tonight, then.” Seokmin hummed, quickly slapping his phone shut, and tossed it onto the couch behind him. He winced when he heard it bounce off the plush surface and onto the floor, the echo reverberating into the room.

“Shit….” He turned back to the meal before him, just barely done and ready to be served. Seokmin allowed the clinking of metal silverware and plates to fill the silence in the apartment as he fixed the settings on the table from two to one. Nestling into his seat, Seokmin looked down at the spread. “It’s for school…” He said to himself, picking up the bowl of rice. He reached his chopsticks forward for some grilled pork, mixing the two and sticking it into his mouth. He hoped if it was filled with food, it wouldn’t utter anything else. He had to finish his project. It’s understandable….

When Seokmin felt his eyes prick with tears, a sleeved arm came and caught them, pressing against his eyes so hard that for a second he saw stars. With a few deep breaths, he lowered his arm and stuck another bite of dinner in his mouth.

As he chewed, he knew the food was delicious. It was the same recipe he always used. However, the emptiness from across the little table in the kitchen made him question his cooking ability for a second.

Seokmin hated broken promises. But…maybe this wouldn’t have happened if the girl at the library didn’t think Seokmin looked like such a weirdo rehearsing lines. A domino effect it seems. 

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         Seokmin was sipping a glass of water, his new library book propped open as Seungkwan made his presence known. Seokmin turned his head as the brunette strolled in. Despite their red strain, most likely from hours of staring at a computer, Seungkwan’s eyes were beaming as he strolled in. It was as if he won the lottery. Seokmin checked the time: 11:00.

         “Hyung-.” Seungkwan beamed almost immediately when he saw Seokmin sitting there. “You’ll never guess what happened tonight.”

         Seeing Seungkwan’s excitement made Seokmin’s own smile form on his face, a chameleon blending in with his surroundings. He closed his book, making sure to mark the page for later. Seungkwan practically swan dove onto the couch, sitting with his legs crossed as he turned to his taller roommate. “What happened? Did you get your work done?”

         “Mhm.” Seungkwan seemed proud. “But that’s not all. Guess who ended up coming to the study group?” Seokmin cocked an eyebrow, silently prompting Seungkwan to share. “Chwe Hansol!”

         Immediately, Seokmin recalled the name. A boy in two of Seungkwan’s previous education classes. This one too, it seems. “Aaah.” A grin of intrigue broke on Seokmin’s face. “Really?”

         “Yeah. I didn’t think he was coming but apparently, he got invited last minute, too.” Seungkwan’s eyes sparkled, and Seokmin could have sworn he saw hearts forming in his friend’s pupils. “He was helping me with my translations for some of the articles. Did I tell you that he was born in New York?”

         “You did.” 

         “Yeah, so he speaks fluent English and has his Korean citizenship.” Seungkwan sighed, bliss filling his lungs and exhaling right into Seokmin’s face. “He’s just so cool.”

         “Oooo.” Seokmin smiled. “Is there perhaps a confession of love soon?”   

         “Whaaaaat? Hyung, no, no. I don’t know if he’s into that. He’s pretty to himself.” Seokmin smiled as his friend's cheeks grew redder and redder the more he talked. “I mean. I don’t know if he’s not not into guys like that. I didn’t ask.”

         “Well, there’s your problem.”

         “But I barely know him,” Seungkwan added. “I don't think that’s good first conversation talk. ‘Hey, you’re really cute. Are you gay?’” Seokmin nodded in acknowledgement. 

         “Fair point. No use running right out of the gate. But, now that you two have some kind of connection you should feel it out. Tonight is the first time you had an interaction with him outside of staring at him in class.” Seungkwan giggled shyly. “Just get to know him more and see if he’s something you want to spend time with, and not just…well, you know-.” Seokmin paused a second, lips tugged together as he figured out how to phrase the rest of his sentence.

         “…Fuck?” Seungkwan asked.

         “Yeah, I guess.” The duo laughed. “Just see what kind of guy he is and see if that matches what you’re looking for. If you don’t do that, then you’ll end up either screwing up royally, or heartbroken, or both.”

         “But I get nervous when I talk to him,” Seungkwan said. “Like tonight, he reached out and pointed to an English sentence to translate to me. He was this close-.” Seungkwan squeezed his thumb and pointer finger together until there was barely a centimeter between them. “I felt like I wanted to curl up and die. I don’t even think I spoke like an actual human in that moment.” 

         “You’ll get more comfortable. If he’s as cool as you say he is, then you’ll find your groove to talk to him. If not-.” Seokmin shrugged. “There’s plenty of others out there. You’re definitely someone to be sought after, no question.”   

         “Aww, thanks, Hyung.” Seungkwan sounded hopeful and relieved, which caused those feelings to parallel in Seokmin. “You’re always so good to talk to.”  

         “I try,” Seokmin confessed. “But it’ll all work out, so don’t stress much anymore. You should go to sleep if you have to give that presentation tomorrow.”

         “Oh, you’re right! I’m so tired.” Seungkwan sighed. “I don’t think I’ve done that much reading and studying in a while.” 

         “I’m sure. Want tea or something before you turn in?”

         “Nah. I’m okay.” Seungkwan smiled, his face now catching up with the rest of him as he yawned. “I’ll make breakfast tomorrow, okay?” he hummed. Seokmin’s smile dropped a bit, but not enough to make someone notice. Seungkwan’s eyes were half closed already, so he might not have. “Goodnight, Hyung.” He waved before retreating into his room, closing the door behind him.

         Seokmin rested against the back of the couch once more, setting his library book on his lap. He looked down at it, thumbing the cover. When he touched the picture of the rings, he pressed his thumb against it, as if somehow the cool metal would rip through the cover and press into his hand. No luck, his thumb just turned a bit white and he lifted it back up, allowing the blood to flow back to the digit. It was past 11, most likely almost 12, and Seokmin knew he too had to head to bed. Rising from his spot, he set his book on the end table and headed into his own room.

         Seokmin’s Wicked poster loomed over his bed as if it were watching over his most prized possessions as they sat comfortably on his mattress. Plushies. Seokmin. Loved. Plushies. He closed the door behind him, and it felt as if his little squishy friends greeted him, all with warm smiles to see him return after a long day. None of them thought he was a weirdo, and if they did, they couldn’t talk so they could never say so.

         Seokmin crawled under the covers of his blanket, shuffling the few plush toys to either the headboard or the footrest, while others simply scattered around his bed. He hummed, nestling his head into his pillow and looking over at his newly acquired stuffed ravioli plush. Seungkwan and he found it during their most recent outing, and Seokmin almost flew out of his shoes when he saw the little guy staring at him from the window of a nearby shop. The smile on his face hurt long after he gave the confused and possibly concerned older woman his credit card and carried the ravioli plush out the door absolutely beaming the whole way to the car. 

         Seokmin knew tomorrow he had a lot of stuff to do, such as finish his essay on Mama Mia!, and get those last few chunks of blue highlighted lines memorized before his audition. He also knew that tomorrow’s breakfast would be taken care of, and waiting for him in the morning.

         Will it be?

         Seokmin closed his eyes, his hand secured around his little ravioli pal as he slowly began drifting off to sleep.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “You know, maybe if you weren’t such a crazy fucking bitch, we wouldn’t be here right now!”

         “Oh, fuck you! You always find some way to try and blame this on me. Do you fucking hear yourself right now?!

         “All I hear is you yapping away like you always do!”

         enough…

         “You literally don’t even care about me, or this family, or anyone! You only care about yourself and what’s at the end of a fucking bottle! Do we mean nothing to you?!”

         “Keep fucking running your mouth. Keep doing it, Lord knows you love to hear yourself talk!”

         stop…

         “Someone has to keep talking or else all you’ll hear in that little head of yours is your fucking mind!”

         please….

         The sound of a loud banging made Seokmin’s eyes fly open, and he immediately sat up in bed. The force of his movements sent all of his plush toys flying onto the floor, except for the ravioli plush that he kept in a fucking vice grip. It took a second for Seokmin’s eyes to register where he was, silhouettes of his dresser and his end table looking like boxy ghosts until his brain assured him it was just furniture. His heart was pounding in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get himself to stop feeling like he was drowning in the deepest part of the sea, with cinder blocks wrapped around his ankles.

         Finally, his ears picked up something muffled from the other end of a very thin wall.

         “Get the fuck out of my sight!”

         “I’m not going anywhere. If it wasn’t for my paycheck, you’d be living on the fucking street and you know it!”

         Oh…..this again.

         Seokmin looked up at the wall as if it would allow him to see through it. The neighbors were fighting yet again. It was muffled, but their anger was as evident as ever. Seokmin could hear it clear as day, and he considered that a curse.

         Seokmin hated unexpected loud noises. He hated the sound of screams, and guttural anger from one person to the next. He hated the sound of banging on walls, the slamming of doors, and the breaking of expensive glass.

         “I’ll fucking leave and you’ll never see me or the kids ever again!”

         “Go then! Leave!”

         He hated the sound of empty threats because eventually they would not be so empty.

         Seokmin turned towards his end table – not a boxy ghost – and reached forward, pulling open the drawer and pulling out a white pair of headphones. There was a significantly tight knot in the middle that he couldn’t undo no matter how many times his long fingers desperately fumbled with it. His hands were trembling, which meant no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get the headphone cord into the port on his phone. Each second that passed where this loudness entered his ears made his heart beat faster, and his adrenaline started pumping.

When he heard the sound of a muffled baby cry, Seokmin felt that familiar pricking sensation in the corner of his eyes. Finally, the adaptor connected with his phone, and he frantically pressed the white triangle that awaited him on his home screen. Within seconds, music flooded his ears and drowned out the fighting in the apartment over.

         Seokmin saw a light turn on in the living room, and a shadow travel past his door. Seungkwan was awake….he could handle it. He may be the younger of the two, but he always handled it.

         He was the one who could handle it.

         Seokmin fell back onto the bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. His hand patted at his side for his ravioli plush, and when he connected with it, he squeezed it to his chest. Exhaling, Seokmin squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to go back to sleep….he couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he hoped that whatever it was, it was better than what was happening in real life. It was a 50/50 chance every time. A flip of a coin that had a smile on one side and a frown on the other.

         Seokmin knew the coin landed on the frowny face when behind his eyelids, a familiar girl with blonde braids shot daggers at him from her seat. Did she still think he was a weirdo? Did she think that in the first place?

         Go practice your lines in the library like the [redacted] weirdo you are.

         I probably did look like such a weirdo. He thought to himself, pressing his face into the back of his plush. He liked how soft it felt on his face, like a comforting one-sided hug.        

Seokmin liked a lot of things, but he hated so many more.