As freshmen moving up to sophomore year, we finally got to move to a new dormitory and choose who we want to be with. 

We chose to be roommates again, but since we were studying in different fields, picking the right dorm house was a challenge.

As a visual arts student, most of your classes were spent outdoors so there wasn't much of an issue for you, but mine were mostly discussion-based classes spent in lecture halls on the other side of the campus.

Unless I wake up at dawn, it would be impractical for me to live in one of the better dorms for sophomores.

I didn't want to impose, but it would be nice to have a place comfortable for both of us.

A two-bedroom unit at a condominium 10 minutes away from campus seemed like the best option. The rent was quite unrealistic for university students to afford, but my dad promised to pay the monthly rent.

You were against getting help from him, but after some serious coercing, I managed to convince you that it was okay.

It was the least my biological father could do. After all, he rarely spends time with me and only shows up when absolutely necessary.

That one time he showed up, he called you my girlfriend, assuming our relationship was more than what it really was.

I was quick to deny the assumption and laugh at how ridiculous it was, but apparently not quick enough to hide the blush on my cheeks.

You had that little smirk on your face the whole time, and I swear my dad must have thought we were really hiding something.

To be fair, after our little trip back home, things have changed between us. We've broken the barrier of being strangers and officially become friends.

Our schedules were different, but we managed to find time for each other, spending most of our free time talking about anything and everything.

We've gotten less awkward toward each other. You even introduced me to some of your higher year friends. To my relief, you've also become less clumsy, at least when we were together.

You made me realize some things about myself, too, like how touchy I could be at times. You pointed it out during one of our movie nights.

"No, I'm not!" I denied vigorously, looking slightly affronted.

"You were clinging onto my arm just now."

I rolled my eyes. "That was an unexpected scene."

You let out a breathy laugh. "If you say so, Minjoo."

I am indeed touchy. You proved your point after several more movie nights and morning walks to campus.

You can't blame me. You have such a long arm. Moreover, dealing with you stumbling in public wouldn't be fun to witness. I clung onto you because I was thinking of your safety.

Days have swiftly gone by.

It was already near the end of the first semester. I was lazily sprawled on the couch scrolling through Twitter when you suddenly asked me out to dinner.

We were both free, and you said you were getting tired of eating takeouts, so why not go out for a change?

"Hmm," I responded indifferently, nodding my head without putting much thought to it.

You brought me to the restaurant across the street. It was obviously expensive, not something my student budget could afford.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked in a low voice after seeing the interior, hesitating as the waiter ushered us to our seats.

You let out a small chuckle. "I have extra money. I don't pay the rent, remember?"

"Makes sense." Not really.

You urged me to relax. "It's my treat today."

"Don't come running at me if you end up breaking some plates."

Traces of panic manifested in your eyes. Underneath the calm exterior, there was the Yujin I knew.

I couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "Maybe we can request for some paper plates?"

You looked at me incredulously, and it made me laugh harder.

"Can we do that?"

"What?" I stopped to stare at you. I failed to notice the slight mischief in your voice. When I finally realized it, you were already cracking up. 

I shook my head before continuing, "Never mind. You might get thrown out for laughing too much before you even get a chance to break a plate, anyway."

You were still giggling even after being seated. I just ordered the same food as yours, since I had no idea what to get.

"So, have you talked to your aunt yet?" I asked in between chewing food and drinking water. Despite being slightly less tender than I would have hoped, the steak tasted fine.

It took awhile for you to answer. I was almost sure I crossed a line and about ready to retract my question when you suddenly spoke, barely audible in the slightly crowded restaurant.

"I have."

You had a fight with your aunt. Apparently, she expected you to come home during the break. We both knew that didn't happen, because you spent the entire school break with me.

You were too caught up in the moment to notice that you actually forgot to update your aunt about your whereabouts.

It took you a whole week to call and tell her that you weren't coming home. The fight was very much expected. After the call, you seemed completely aggravated, downplaying it by calling your aunt "petty".

There was nothing petty in that, but I knew it wasn't my place to meddle.

"She wired me some money," you continued.

So, that explained the expensive dinner.

"Are you guys okay now, then?"

"I guess." You gave me a shrug. "Don't worry about it."

"But I'm worried."

My response was met with silence.

Then, you asked, "Why?"

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