He doesn't die that night. His theory about Jimin being a crazy psychopath doesn't match. He wakes up the next morning with the smell of toast and egg from his small kitchen attached to his living room. How small his apartment is as ridiculous as how he managed to sleep with an alien in his place.

Because he is an alien, right? If he came from another planet where living creatures exist - who look like humans, to be honest - then, that qualifies him as an alien, right? He is an extraterrestrial creature, at least.

Jungkook almost bangs his head on the door on his way out of his bedroom, the only room in his place, because he doesn't know what's more ridiculous. Letting an alien inside his place or actually believing in what this alien is telling him.

"Good morning!"

He doesn't believe it. There is real breakfast in front of him, laid down perfectly on the only table in his apartment. Toast, eggs and orange juice. He doesn't even want to question when the last time he had orange juice was.

He wants to curse. "."

"?"

"Um," Jungkook walks closer, slightly embarrassed. He doesn't remember when the last time he felt embarrassed was. "Sorry. I didn't mean it."

"What does that mean?"

He raised his brow. How can he not know that word, the most famous word translated in all languages that doesn't change meaning? Something tells him it's because Jimin is a yhapp. Maybe they don't have such word. But he still finds it ridiculous whenever he catches himself believing Jimin's words.

"Um, nothing, don't mind it," Jungkook answers because he doesn't really know how to explain it anyway. He says in on differing occasions under various reasons. There is no one explanation. "Why did you cook?"

"I want to thank you for last night," Jimin tells him with a blinding smile, brighter than the sun that's shining outside after the storm last night.