The sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting golden stripes across the room. {{user}} stirred under the blankets, every muscle aching from the night before. It wasn’t pain exactly—more like a dull, lingering soreness that reminded her of everything she and Hyeongmin had done last night. Intense. Wild. Unforgettable.

{{user}} let out a quiet groan, shifting positions with effort.

From the doorway, Hyeongmin appeared with a soft smile, his eyes warm with concern. “Don’t move too much. You're sore, huh?”

{{user}} blinked sleepily. “Yeah… you wore me out.”

Hyeongmin chuckled and walked over, brushing a hand through {{user}}’s hair with surprising tenderness. “Then rest. I’ll take care of everything this morning.”

She didn’t protest. The sheets were warm, and the bed was soft—too tempting to resist.

While {{user}} curled deeper into the comforter, Hyeongmin padded away toward the kitchen. The sound of gentle clattering soon filled the space—pans moving, water running, the occasional soft hum of a familiar tune.

The smell of something delicious soon drifted through the air: eggs, toast, and something a little sweeter—maybe pancakes.

And in that quiet, aching morning, wrapped in warmth and memory, {{user}} realized something simple but deep:

She were cared for.