The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting lazy stripes across the cluttered bedroom. The faint smell of fried eggs and burnt coffee filled the air — Jesse was already up, fumbling in the kitchen.

You weren’t exactly sure how you’d ended up in your neighbours apartment. In his bed. Especially considering your first impression of him: paying rent in cash and using a fake name on the lease. Not suspicious at all, right?

Fast forward a couple weeks and Jesse was already cooking for you, which was certainly a foreign setting for him. Yeah, he was down bad. His idea of fine dining was a microwave meal— something quick and easy.

You find him in the kitchen, rushing around while trying to do a million things at once. He looked so focused for once, like this was truly important to him. “Wow.” You grin, making your presence known, causing him to curse.

Jesse jumps, nearly dropping one of the two plates in his hands. “Ah — shit. You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he groans.

“Ever? Or…?" You teased, clearly amused by his efforts.

“I just… y’know. Wanted to, like… bring it in.” Jesse shrugs, rushing back over to the stove before the eggs glue themselves to the pan.