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When you open your eyes, the other side of the bed is empty. Junhoe's gone. It's a Sunday so there's no way he went to work; he should still be sleeping.

It's already 9 so you prepare to get off bed which seems to keep on reeling you in.

"Good morning, love~" Junhoe waltz into the room holding a tray. On it: A plate of your favorite cream roll and a cup of jasmine tea. He sits on the side and places the tray on your lap. "Have a bite."

You gaze at him curiously. "What's this?"

"Breakfast," he rolls his eyes, "Duh."

"I mean, why are you doing this?"

"Why? Am I not allowed to?" He shakes his head at the word 'not allowed.'

"Of course you can." You respond prior to picking up the small fork to cut a small piece for yourself. "Just . . ." Just out of the blue.

"It's good, right?" He's grinning like a fool. You nod.

It makes you wonder how did he get the cream roll when he's with you all day long yesterday and didn't even see him buy or sneak that into the house. And the bakery isn't open until 10, usually.

"What would you like to have for lunch today?"

"What?"

"I'm asking you," again, he rolls his eyes, "Why are you asking me back?"

"I mean, my hubby, why are you suddenly treating me like this? Is there something you want?"

He smirks at you.

You heave a sigh. "Definitely besides that."

"Nothing." Junhoe smiles. "Just tell me what you want