//

“get off me, you’re heavy.” 

for the nth time that night, minjoo attempts to push away the dense head which had been lying on her lap for a prolonged amount of time. regardless of her arduous (and pointless) efforts, sakura’s slim arms locked around her torso made it unfeasible to shove her away. at some point, minjoo concedes defeat, her roommate is as stubborn as a bull.

it’s pointless trying, her lap had gone numb so the weight of sakura’s head became nonexistent over time.

“i‘m not moving, your lap is comfy.” sakura admits needlessly, peering up at the pinkette (this sounds a little peculiar) as she folds her arms. 

it’s way past midnight and sakura should be dozing off in her room right now. not to mention the brunette also has morning class in a few hours. well... regardless of having enough sleep or not, she knew sakura would still nod in and out of sleep during her classes anyway.

“at least stop staring! it’s creepy, there’s the tv to watch instead of me, dimwit.”

minjoo was just trying to rejoice in watching her dramas, but the constant feeling of being stared at from below was not exactly pleasing, especially from that angle. (she’s very self conscious.) the light chuckle that followed after had her irritated.

“sorry, ever since you dyed your hair pink, it’s getting harder to not stare.” 

there she goes again, blatantly shooting out compliments with that frisky smile of hers. if sakura gets a dollar for every time she compliments minjoo, she probably would have been a millionaire. the fact that minjoo gets tongue-tied afterwards was getting provoking.

unable to get a word out, minjoo briskly pulls on sakura’s ear as retaliation, earning a painful shriek from the brunette.

it wasn’t on purpose, but when sakura’s phone on the coffee table illuminated; signifying an incoming notification, minjoo’s eyes unconsciously darted to the flashed screen. there’s a couple of previous messages but the new notification caught her complete attention. sakura’s voice was tuned out in the background as she reads the recent message.

yirenn 

you know that i’m always here if you need me

minjoo’s eyes never left the phone screen, she doesn’t even realise she’s frowning the longer she stares at the notification. the name of the contact sounded vaguely familiar so she wracks her brain trying to recall who it’s likely to be. 

aside from the thought-provoking name, the appealing yet baffling message itself easily invokes curiosity. minjoo began to ponder about the context, about what it might have been about.

yiren...? isn’t that... her ex?

then it clicks, if she isn’t mistaken, this yiren girl should be sakura’s former lover. and that makes minjoo all the more curious about their conversation. 

yiren’s message sounded like a consolation, a reassurance of some sort. the way yiren texted made it seem like sakura is in a state of despondency. a million of questions kept arising in minjoo’s head and her assumptions multiplied. unknowingly, there’s a subtle feeling of uneasiness budding in her chest and she drew her lower lip between her teeth as she continues to muse on.

is there something she isn’t telling me?

minjoo couldn’t help but speculate about their current relationship, they shouldn’t be anymore than friends, right? sakura did declare before that they were history unless she intends to get back together with-

“you okay? you spaced out there...” sakura’s silvery voiced trimmed with concern abruptly ceased her profound thoughts, warping her back to reality as she blinks rapidly.

minjoo promptly looks away from sakura’s phone which has now turned off, swallowing a huge lump in . she briefly glances down into sakura’s worried eyes, sending her a small smile (which wasn’t really promising) to put her at ease. 

“oh uh, yeah...” minjoo internally curses for sounding ominous.

she could feel sakura’s eyes intently trained on her and she prays she doesn’t give herself away. to her relief, sakura doesn’t press on but instead, she removes herself from minjoo’s lap and sits up. 

“minjoo,” sakura began softly.

minjoo doesn’t respond, afraid that she might stumble on her words, only giving her