A/N: This was a story from one of my old OTPs and figured it would fit Wheesun so I converted it:)

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Wheein's POV

It took a minute after I woke up to have last night's events come crashing down on me. Snippets of the fight forcing its way into my brain and the smell of something burning invading my senses. I groaned. It's way too early for all of this.

I put my hair up into a ponytail and padded into the kitchen still wearing yesterday's clothes after failing to change, since apparently, the fight took every amount of energy I had left last night and I resigned to our bed. 'To hell with pajamas' I remembered thinking. Which I regret now feeling the possible chaffing on my skin. No more sleeping in jeans. Well come to think of it, if I'm making up life rules, might as well put no more fighting on top. But who's to say the universe won't throw that on our faces again?

When I finally had a clear view of the kitchen, I understood with horrific surprise why there was a burning smell.

"It smells like a campfire in here." I stated deadpan.

The stoves had multiple pans and pots. The counter looked like the food from the fridge made a protest and camped out messily on top, burnt eggs and toasts sat on the kitchen island and splatters of god knows what are all ov