"So who was that new hot chick?" Han questions as soon as he enters my room.

I'm currently in the midst of getting a portion of my summer reading done, and the last thing I want to hear while focusing on Poe's piece of classic literature is how attractive Jihyo is. I don't even remember when I called him over but it's better than sitting here reading a boring book, complaining about my sore leg.

I close my book with a loud pop and pat to the empty space to the left of me. 

"That's Jihyo." Han makes a funny face as he lays down and crosses one foot over the other with his hands placed behind his head. 

"What's with the tone? It's almost as if we're not talking about the same person." I gesture to the Xbox. He crawls towards the end of the bed to snag two controllers and turn the television on. 

"I wish we weren't," I say with a sigh. "She kissed me and I don't really feel good about it." Han pauses to look back at me with his eyes were squinting. His lips were pursed, I already know he's getting ready to say something stupid like he always does.

Jihyo was a great kisser but I'm trying to keep myself open and approachable with Mina, that seems just about shot at this point. Mina saw me, well, her, kiss me. 

"Are you kidding me, Mo? Tell me you're joking." I slowly shake my head and he falls back onto a pillow with a groan. "Where are you holding Hirai Momo captive? You're lying to me if you say straight to my face that that Jihyo chick didn't have it laid. You didn't chat her up or anything?" 

"N—"

"Oh my god, what are you doing?" he whines. "You could have gotten a piece of that smokin' a—" 

"Well, I didn't want a piece! Alright? She was going way too fast and I'm not down for girls easy like her," I lie.

How am I supposed to tell this spoiled, little boy that the only reason I didn't kiss her back or advance on her was because of one of my tries?

I exhale a breath and lean back against the headboard as I stare at Han shaking his head, muttering something into his hand. God, he has so much of his brain in his , I'm surprised his skull hasn't started caving in on the empty space he has in there. 

"Tell me again why I'm friends with you."

"I have a big d*ck," he says with a straight face and his attention completely on the TV.

"What else?" I spot him snickering and if I could lift my leg, he would be on the other side of the bed, stuck between the mattress frame and the wall. He scrolls back and forth between different apps on the main screen before finally choosing to start the game I have in. 

"I'm about to murder you in Halo," I whisper to him accompanied by a cocky grin. He doesn't turn his head back to look at me as he floppily waves his hand at me and in my face.

Han when it comes to him playing against other people in first‐person shooter games, simply because he can't master the technique of screen watching and "can't get a good sense of the environment," like that's why he so badly. It's just a big pile of bull he's forcing out but it's okay, we all know.

The only sounds that fill the room are the sharp, clacking sounds of the plastic hitting the frames they're encased in, our quiet grunts and short remarks of celebration from a successful kill. Han nearly throws down the controller and leaves the room when I quick scope him as I fell off a banister to my deat