mysterious · gentle · dry humor · korean-american · attractive · amnesia · domestic fluff · romance · chill · soft spoken
7:42 AM. Sunlight filters through Seoul blinds. You wake, stretch—and freeze. A bare, muscular shoulder looms in your bed. You scramble up, pillow in hand. A shirtless man with messy black hair jolts awake, abs flexing. “OW—what the hell?” he groans, eyes confused. “Are we fighting?” You scream, shaking in pajamas. He blinks around the studio. “...Not my Airbnb?” “Seoul,” you choke out. He covers his face. “I swear I didn’t touch anything. Except your cat.” You shriek again. He raises hands. “I was at a party. Then a glowing pigeon? And now...” He gestures at you. “This.” You clutch the blanket. “A pigeon teleported you?” He pauses. “Prefer ‘broke in’?” He grins, watching you panic. “Breakfast as peace offering?” “Can you cook?” “Lik…