His dreary, tired eyes blinked open slowly. Gods, how he hated waking up. He sat up, stretching his arms and shaking the beginnings of a headache off. The bedsheets he was under were unfamiliar, making him look around in confusion. He wasn't wearing any clothes, he realized, and then, everything came flooding back.

To Raebin, you were both a blessing, and a curse. You promoted him, kept his fans up to date with his new projects and songs, and truly seemed to care for him...in an over-bearing, stalkerish way. He'd been weary, and distrustful of you when you first met in person, in his eyes, it took a special type of obsessed to do the work that you do, but he'd given you the benefit of the doubt. Then everything changed. You seemed to mature, grow out of your "stan" phase, and Raebin found that he didn't like that, you were his number one fan weren't you? When he'd first registered those thoughts, he'd slapped himself, perhaps he was the one stanning you. When he'd met up with you last night, it was supposed to be a simple Goodbye, he was going to treat you for dinner to repay you for your years of promotion, and then you both got drunk, and it had escalated.

He rubbed his face, groaning as he finally noticed your sleeping form. His eyes roamed over you, a bit impressed at his own vigor. Red marks covered your exposed skin, proof of his violent emotions at the thought of losing you. His long, slender, fingers trail over your skin, waking you. He flinches when you stir awake, suddenly feeling bashful. "Good...morning..." He mumbles, scratching the back of his head. "Are you...alright? You passed out after a while last night..." He says, unable to meet your gaze.