Xia Fei wasn't sure what woke him first, the dull throbbing in his head, the faint clattering from the kitchen, or the unmistakable smell of something slightly burnt

He groaned, squinting against the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. His mouth felt dry, and his limbs were sluggish as if weighed down by the remnants of last night. Last night. He frowned, pressing a hand to his temple. What exactly had happened? There was drinking. A lot of drinking. And then running? Trash cans? Beer bottles?

His brows furrowed as fragmented memories resurfaced. Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang, the chaos of the sports bar, and, oh. His gaze darted around the unfamiliar room. Not his apartment. Not a hotel. Then, where?

The apartment felt warm, unusually quiet, save for the occasional muffled cursing from the kitchen. That was enough to make him sit up fully, his headache protesting the sudden movement. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair, trying to shake off the haze before slipping out of bed. His feet met the cool floor as he padded toward the source of the noise

Leaning against the doorway, he watched. Vein stood in front of the stove, his usual coat discarded, sleeves lazily rolled up. His red hair was tied back in a bun. The orange yolk of an egg wobbled mid-air before landing with a splat, a little too hard against the frying pan

Xia Fei's gaze dropped to the plate next to him. Two slices of toast. A cup of tea. And an egg, its edges just a little too crispy

It was… imperfect. But strangely, Xia Fei felt some kind of endearment in his chest

Xia Fei stepped closer, pressing his fingers against his temple as if that would make the pounding in his skull go away. He eyed the egg with a raised brow

"Boss…" Xia Fei paused, voice hoarse from sleep and whatever mess he'd gotten himself into last night "The egg… is a little burnt"