Jieun’s POV: Age 12

“Yah, yah, yah.” The three syllables shoot at me like bullets. A sigh escapes my lips. What does this helpless prince need now?

“Sixth period of the day and already another call from the Baekjo. At least let me sit down.” I reply as I place my tray of lunch on the table in front of me. I pull out a chair and place myself in front that bird. That’s right, Baekjo, I called him a swan. He does resemble one. Graceful, beautiful, and what is that word? Oh yeah. Perfect.

“Ok, what do you want now?” I ask with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

“Can I have your banana milk?” He pleads.

“But it’s the last one.” I whine with a pout.

“Which is exactly why I want it.” He points out.

“No.” I simply reply. I may like him slightly but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up everything for him. Heck no. He gives me a mischievous smirk as I judgingly give him a face. Oh no. NO. He’s planning something. For all 7 years I’ve been with him, I adapted to him and his personality. I can practically see through him. Oh ew, not in that way but you know what I mean.

I quickly grab my milk in fear of him tampering with it. For all I know he maybe be the evil witch ready to poison an innocent child. Wait. This is extremely childish. What… ? Evil witch? What is this? We aren’t seven anymore. I quickly shook off the thoughts.

“You know what, how about we share.” I suddenly say as I put a spoonful of rice into my mouth.

“Ew. With a creature like you?” He says disgusted out of his mind.

I roll my eyes, “How old are you, 5? Afraid of cooties?”

“Cooties? I bet you managed to create an ENTIRE different species of bacteria that can cause the death of millions.” He scoffs.

“Well then, I guess you don’t mind NOT getting a taste of this,” I pause and stick the straw through the foil top, “cold,” I take a gulp, “creamy,” and swallow purposely making it loud “HEAVEN.”

Stifled laughter managed to escape as I stared at Baekhyun’s bobbing adam's apple. Its just so much fun teasing him.

“F- Fine.” He barely whispered.

“Oh what was that?” I ask raising my hand to my ear, even though I clearly heard what he said.

“Can we share..” He starts.

“Share what?” I cross my arms, with the sweet milk in one hand and a smirk slapped across my face. It was getting wider by the second. Any longer, and I would have become the joker. No joke… (A/N: HAHAH no.. kkaebsong.) He huffed in frustration and grabbed the milk right from my hand. I let out a chuckle from the sudden outburst of his. Oh snap. Someone is pissed. He takes a swig of the creamy liquid. And places it next to my tray.

“Let’s share.” He finally manages to say.

“Now, was that so hard?” I mockingly ask in a motherly voice.

“Yes, Mom. It was.” He plays along and slightly chuckles.

And with that, we indirectly kissed, but I didn’t mention it nor make it a big deal of it. I wouldn’t want to spoil  7 years of friendship. We continued to share the last remaining fruit flavored milks for the next following lunches. Soon enough it became a picked up habit. The two of us shared, even though the milk wouldn’t be last of its kind.