The very first thing that registered to my mind was the smell of melting butter. At first, I thought I was dreaming but when my stomach growl, I knew I am not in dreamland. I opened my eyes slowly, which by the way I regretted quickly because the sunrays flowing through the floor length window stung so bad. I raised myself rather quickly than intended, the act brought a hundred joules of electricity to my head, and it made the world around me spin. After calming my throbbing head, I looked around the room I am in and realized with horror that I am in somebody else’s room, not even Eric’s.

I jumped out of the bed in a hurry and just as I was making my way to the door, I caught a glance of my reflection on the mirror and I stifled a scream. I was wearing a white, long sleeved button-down shirt, which stopped just five inches below my pelvic bone. It doesn’t take a genius to comprehend that the shirt in fact belongs to a man.

Hurriedly, I went out of the room and was ready to bolt out of the house when I realized that I do not know my way around. While exploring the house to look for the exit, I found myself in the kitchen where I saw a man who looks like Kim Woo Bin having a fight with the frying pan and as a declaration of my presence; I let out a throaty laugh.

“You sure love your craft too much. Imagine, you even practice your fighting scenes with an egg,” I stated when he whipped his head to my direction.

Looking like a child caught with his hand on the cookie jar, he smiled sheepishly and said, “Oh, hi. Good morning. I…I was just trying to prepare you a decent breakfast.”

“Let me help you then,” I said, proceeding to where he was standing.

“No, no. I can manage. Just sit there.” He waved me off and pointed his lips to a white, square table.

“Fat chance. I wouldn’t let you murder this egg. I’