"Do you really have to go?" Momo whines.
"I want -to stay, too." Sana whispers, peppering her girlfriend's face with kisses. 

Momo watches her go around the room, picking up her stuff to leave. The scene is bittersweet, as Sana sways her hips, walking to put her shirt in her bag.

“I’m keeping this on.” Sana smiles, pointing at the shirt she’s wearing. It’s a shirt Momo gave her the night before.

She grins, satisfied.

Momo gets up, and wraps her arms around the younger girl’s waist, taking a whiff of her perfume.

“My room smells like you.” She comments, nuzzling her face further in the crook of Sana’s neck.

“Does it.” It’s more of a recognition statement than a question, and Momo could hear the smile in Sana’s voice.

“It does.” She confirms as she pulls back, reluctant to let her girlfriend go.

She doesn’t look when Sana is changing out of her pajama pants and into her own pair of jeans.

(Momo giggles quietly, remembering earlier that day when they went grocery shopping, and every piece of clothes Sana was wearing —except for the underwear—, was Momo’s.

The sleepover wasn’t planned after all.)

“It’s cute,” Sana starts, pulling Momo out of her thoughts, “that you’re looking away right now, considering..” The rest of her words go unsaid, but Momo knows exactly what the girl means. She grins as a response, a shade of