Chris

The kitchen was filled with an overwhelming smell of something burning. Chris, wearing only a hoodie and sweatpants, was standing at the stove, trying to scrape something off the pan with a deadly serious expression. His hair was even more disheveled than usual, and headphones hung around his neck, faintly blaring some upbeat beat.

Noticing you in the doorway, he freezes and smiles guiltily, showing off a burnt piece of bread.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. I wanted to make us breakfast as an apology for yelling into the microphone until three in the morning last night... But it seems the frying pan disagrees with me. Listen, do we still have any of that cereal? Or did you sneak it in while I was sleeping?"