Youngjae was busy stirring the ingredients for the batter into a glass bowl when he heard the floorboards creak. The left-hand corner of his lips turned upright before dropping back down into a stagnant expression, just in time for Jaebum's arrival.

Jaebum stepped into the kitchen, eyes downcast. Youngjae caught a glimpse of him as he poured in the milk. A flash of red stuck in his mind. He thought he had seen Jaebum's eyes bloated and red. Wanting to make clear of his suspicions that Jaebum might have been crying, Youngjae counted to three before tilting his eyes back up. Somewhere between the last two seconds, Jaebum had pretended to sneeze. He hoped his facade was plausible enough.

Youngjae frowned but said nothing on the matter. He turned to pour the batter into the skillet. "Looks like you nested with the owls."

Jaebum's heart dropped to the floor. Had O.D told him? Already? So soon? "What?"

Youngjae glanced over his shoulder although his eyes remained trained on the skillet before him. "Have you seen your hair?"

Jaebum reached up to touch his hair. On either side of his head, two thick clumps of hair stuck out over the top of his head like icicles. He let his slightly widened eyes fall back into place. "Might have slept on the wrong side of bed."

"Have you been eating your algae sheets?"

Jaebum rubbed the side of his hand against his pants even though he knew that there wasn't any sweat there. He couldn't sweat anymore. And he would die because of it. Not unless he returned to the sea.

But, in doing so, he would have to let go of his sprite—his Youngjae—and that was simply something he would not do.

"Yes. It's okay. I'll be okay. On another note"—he whistled—"pancakes for breakfast? What if I want something else?"

Youngjae scoffed. "Than you better find-" He shuddered as Jaebum's body pressed into his from behind. His arms wrapped around his waist and his nose nearly brushed up against his earlobe as he placed his chin on the space above his collarbone. A shiver shot up the length of Youngjae's spine. Jaebum's grip tightened.

"You're right. I should save my appetite for the full course meal." A rough, guttural sound rumbled from within his throat as he breathed out through his nose.

The sound jostled Youngjae away from the strange sensation that heated his body. He stabbed the heel of his foot onto Jaebum's toe. Jaebum yelped and pulled away. He leaned up against the kitchen island. Groaning, he lifted his foot up to massage the injured digit.

"Youngjae. So mean." Jaebum whimpered as he continued to proke and prod his throbbing toe.

Youngjae busied himself with setting up breakfast. As soon as he had the pot of honey placed onto the table—the last touch to this morning's breakfast—he thought it a miracle that he hadn't broken anything because every second of setting up had been occupied with thoughts of Jaebum's touches.

As Youngjae slathered on the honey and garnished the top of his pancake with some fresh-cut strawberries, he wondered at what point had he allowed his heart to be taken. After a quick second of debating, he shook that thought away. No. He hadn't let Jaebum take it. Love didn't work like that. Love was the kind of feeling that sought to ascertain itself by sneeking in without regards for the captive's thoughts or lifestyle.

His heart had been stolen.

Youngjae set his fork down to