You awoke in your bed to the sweet smell of French Toast and bacon. Feeling lightheaded and empty, you carefully pushed yourself up and off of the bed, and straight to the kitchen, barely clothed. There you saw the same skinny-yet-muscular man facing a frying pan, cooking something while shirtless. Your head spun and you could not recall who he was, other than a stranger whom you had shared your bed with last night. 

"You'll burn your skin if you do that," you slurred sleeplessly. He froze in his spot and slowly turned around, reading your blank expression with confusion in his eyes.

"Remi-I..."

"What are you doing?" You asked. He was cooking breakfast, obviously, but why? Wasn't it just a one night stand? He turned off the stove and slowly walked towards you, and you stepped back in response. He stopped once he saw your reaction and laid a hand on the counter where you stood on the opposite side of.

"Remi. What happened last night.." 

"It was a one night stand, wasn't it? I remember seeing you somewhere, and one thing led to another... and there was alcohol..." You started to realize that you could not remember anything else other than that. 

"Last night shouldn't have happened, at least not in that way. I didn't mean for it to happen in the way that it did. I'm sorry." He looked down at his hand and your stomach growled. You pulled out a chair and sat down, watching the regret in his face. You didn't know how to react. Shouldn't I kick him out by now? 

"I don't think one night stands ever go as planned," you half-heartedly chuckled.

"You don't remember anything?" He began tapping his finger on the counter, and you could tell that he was nervous about something. You didn't dare to ask for details.

"Yongguk," his name slipped out easily, surprising both of you. You needed time to think. Your eyebrows furrowed and he stepped away, seeming to understand that you needed some time alone. His hand ran long the handle of the spatula he was using earlier, unsure if it was okay for him to still be there. 

"I could go, I mean I should go. I shouldn't be here." He left the kitchen and grabbed a few things, pacing back and forth while knocking his head with his wrist a few times. You watched as his head twitched, and as his hands trembled. He would not stop pacing, and the visible nervousness was enough to draw your full concern. 

"Stay," you said quietly. It was barely above a whisper but he somehow managed to hear it. He immediately stopped moving and his hands became calm. His eyes were watery, and dark, and the emotion that had overtaken his face sent cold shivers down your spine. He walked to your dining room and took a seat. You walked over and took the seat opposite from him. "There's something bothering you," you said calmly. Something about