. . . B A C K   T O   S T R A N G E R S . . .

There was a stranger in his kitchen. Someone he didn't know stood in front of the stove, back facing him. He halted his steps at the doorway, not sure what to do. Should he call the police? He knew he should --it was the right thing to do--, but no burglar would leisurely making breakfast in the house he trespassed, right? He didn't know how long he had stoned at the doorframe, contemplating what act he should pull out, when the stranger finally done and turned.

"Oh, you're awake?" The stranger greeted him, his lips curled, his cheekbones pushed up, smiling. The stranger had a gorgeous face, he decided, and cute.

"Come, sit here. You must be hungry, right?"

Like hypnotized, he obeyed and sat at the dinner table. A plate of pancakes was shoved in front of him. A bottle of strawberry jams next.

How did this stranger know what he likes?

Nevertheless, he ate what offered to him, after wondering whether the pancakes had been poisoned or not. But his stomach did the think for him, it growled like wolfs. The stranger chuckled.

"Eat. I made plenty of them if you want more."

The stranger didn't eat, just sitting in the opposite side of the table, eyes never leaving him. He asked the stranger why, but the stranger only shook his head. He dared himself to ask the stranger who was he, but he got no answer. The stranger rose from his seat, washing the dishes. Smile never leaving the stranger's face.

He decided to take a bath; letting the stranger did whatever he wanted in his apartment. Strangely he sensed no threats from the stranger.

There was another addition of five strangers in his living room once he finished his bath. He guessed the first stranger was the one who invited them in, seeing how they looked close, chatting gleefully and all.

They fell into silent when he announced his present by clearing his throat and loudly --angrily-- asks who were they. He immediately regretted it as now all eyes were on him. They all looked at him weirdly --like someone was dying, it was confusing him.

Thank goodness the cute first stranger broke the awkwardness between them by introducing them to him. It's okay, they're friends, the cute stranger said, and he didn't know why but the stranger's words soothed him. Though their names quickly slipped from his mind just a second after mentioned and he realized he was yet to know the cute stranger's name.

The strangers talked about this and that, trying to engage him in their topics from time to time. It was hard, to be honest, he felt like there was always inside joke he didn't know thrown here and there, and a few times they would say, hey, do you remember when…

No! He didn't know! How could he know when it was the first time he meet them?

But he held his annoyance and smiled politely while shaking his head.

The first stranger seemed aware with his bad mood and announced it was time for them to go home. They looked reluctant yet gave in at the end. They bid their good bye, promised him they would pay a visit sometime in the future.

"Of course," he said.

Don't come again, he whispered in his heart.

He thought he was finally all alone for good now, but the one cute stranger stayed behind.

He ignored him, once again let the stranger did as he pleased. He turned his back, heading to his bedroom. It was tiring to deal with a bunch of strangers at one time.

There was a stranger in his guest room. The same stranger from this morning. The same cute stranger that stayed behind.

He heard the stranger's sobs in his way to the kitchen at the middle of the night. He stopped in his track, peeking through the crack on the stranger's half closed door. He was a stranger to him; the stranger shouldn't mean anything to him, yet the stranger's cries slicing his own heart too. He ended up forgetting his intention to fetch some waters, settling himself against the wall beside the door, listening to the stranger's heart-wrenching cries.

He sat in seemingly endless time, until the cries reduce to muffled sobs and then weak whimpers and finally silent. He waited and waited and after he was sure the stranger had fall asleep, he slipped inside the guest room.

The stranger lied on his side in the bed, cheeks wetted, and some photos scattered around. He took one of them, and then another ones. They revealed different scenery as the background, but there were always seven people with big smile in them, the five visitors from that afternoon and the stranger, and there was also him --he deadpanned. He reached for the photo in the stranger's clutch, crumpled from the grip. It showed only him with the stranger --him kissing the cute stranger on the cheek.

He waited for a rush of memory or emotion, and maybe a headache --anything--, but… nothing. He felt nothing. It was just like looking at a photo of someone else who had identical face with him.

What happened to me, why couldn’t I remember. Have we ever met before, why are you here, who are you to me, why are you crying while clutching at my photo --our photo.

Thousands questions formed in his head, but he was still void of emotions --and memories.

Putting the photos back, he silently retreated to his chamber.

There was a stranger in his kitchen. Someone he didn't know sat at the dinner table, waiting with a plate of pancakes. The stranger beckoned him to come closer, and he did, slipping to sit in the empty chair and accepting the pancakes. He wasn't sure anymore whether it was his apartment or the stranger's.

"Who are you?" He asked. But the stranger only shook his head, lips curling up. The stranger had a gorgeous face, he decided, and cute.

He played with his pancakes for a while --was it raspberry? Strawberry?-- before trying again. "Who am I?" Once again the stranger gave him no answer, only smiling.

But the smile didn’t reach the eyes, ever.

Author’s Note:

The story is supposed to be Woohyun-centric with Woohyun-Sunggyu pairing, but you can also use any characters you want.

I'll leave what had happened to Woohyun to your imagination.

Thanks for reading, some feedback would be nice guys...