She thought she was a mere speck of dirt on the bottom of her foot.

But she was wrong. She was definitely more than that.

“What is this? Are you really writing this?”

I turned around to see you sitting in front of my working table, staring at the screen of my laptop. My heart dropped in a shuddering thud as soon as I realized what you were looking at.

“How dare you meddle with my things?!” I screamed, eyes widening, running across the room in a vain attempt to shield the screen from you and closed the laptop with a snap.

Something snapped within me. I got even angrier when I saw you laughing. I pushed you off the chair.

“Ack! What the heck?”

“You were not supposed to see that,” I huffed, glaring accusingly at you.

You couldn’t stop laughing. “I didn’t peg you as someone so cheesy.”

“Stop!” I screamed again, as if I wanted to pierce your eardrum. “Now, leave. I don’t want you here.”

You stopped laughing, and by the looks of it, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I went a little too far.

You struggled to get up from the floor. Once on your feet, you looked straight at me. “You could have told me sooner.”

My heart slammed in my chest, hammering a reckless rhythm. It was painful, but I willed myself to ignore it. Quietly, I said, “I didn’t mean that.”

I heard you snort. “Right. No apologies needed.”

“Aaaaaahh!” I couldn’t help but scream to no one in particular. 

You left me reeling alone in my room. I knew I said something I shouldn’t have said to you, but I wasn’t really thinking. All I knew was that I was mad that time.

You knew better than anybody that I don’t like anyone reading my work until it’s ready. You still read it, anyway, and even laughed at it. If anything, you should be the one apologizing to me.

I shook my head. I knew I was being petty. Oh god, why am I like this?

I didn’t see you for a week or so.

I was busy conjuring ideas for the story I was writing, and I heard that you were busy being a complete bum, doing absolutely nothing.

But who are you kidding? The last time you went off the grid, you came back home with a girlfriend clinging onto your arm. It was such an eyesore. Maybe that was what you were doing all this time. You were busy picking up girls.

You don’t go to work. It has been nearly two years since you last held a camera in your hand. That cliff accident from two years ago affected you really badly.

I told you that it wasn’t your fault, but it only upset you more.

You told me that you were right there when the accident happened. You could have done something, but you just watched everything behind the camera. You watched her gave her last smile before disappearing and falling into her death.

You quit being a photographer after that.

I couldn’t blame you. I just wished I could have done more to comfort you.

A sigh escaped me. I’ve been sighing a lot lately. I wasn’t sure whether it was because I was nearing my deadline for the first draft of my story and I haven’t even finished half of it yet or because I didn’t know how to reach out to you. Maybe both.

As your best friend, I felt especially guilty. I was wrong. I knew I should have apologized to you that day, but my ego was too high.

Another sigh escaped me. I really should be doing something about this, lest I become a sighing maniac.

“Twelfth.”

I looked up from my laptop and tilted my head to the side to check who has spoken. It sounded eerily like you, but I wasn’t sure. To my disappointment, I found no one.

“Turn around.”

 And so I did, and there you were with that smirk that always made your landlord groan. “Yujin?”

“I forgive you.”

I frowned. “I haven’t even apologized to you yet.”

“But you wanted to, right?” You walked around and sat on the chair opposite me.

I let out another sigh.

“Thirteenth.”

“You were counting?” I asked, surprised.

You simply nodded as you took a sip of my coffee. “Gah, this is awful. Why do you keep drinking this?”

“It keeps me awake,” I answered nonchalantly, crossing my arms. “Anyway, why are you here?”

You put my coffee back on the table and proceeded to stare at me. After some time, you muttered softly, “Because I knew you’d be here. Duh.”

Something stirred in my chest, but I pushed it down. It was probably nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you continued. “It was rude of me to poke around your things.”

“Forget it. I’m aware of how nosy you are. It was my fault for not shutting this thing down.” I pointed at my poor laptop, as if it was all to blame.

You laughed airily, the way you always do. “Does that mean we’re good now? I mean, if you don’t want me here, you can tell me now.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t thinking straight when I said that.”

“It felt real, though. I was really hurt. Have you ever thought of changing career? I bet acting pays more, and it seems fun.”

I chuckled at your innocent tone. “I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you were really caught up in the moment,” you said, waving a hand in the air, “and I was too sensitive.”

“Yeah, you were, you are,” I agreed.

We kept bantering until the lady behind the counter announced that the store will be closed in 30 minutes.

“Bummer,” you muttered under your breath.

I gave you a smile. “Let’s go. I don’t think I can finish this here, anyway.”

Your face suddenly turned serious. “When’s the deadline? You only come here when you’re on the verge of breaking down.”

I tried to hold back my laughter, but failed. “You know me so well. I still have a week, though.”

“A week. Pretty sure you haven’t even finalized your plot yet.”

I raised an eyebrow at you before smirking. “That’s where you’re wrong. The plot has been finalized. I made a promise to write the most cliché love story in the world.”

You gave me a look that I knew so well. “Cliché love story?”

“Stop teasing me. It was a challenge. My publisher wanted me to stop writing tragedies, for once.”

“But I love a good tragedy,” you said with a pout.

“Well, tell that to my publisher,” I countered.

You seemed delighted to hear that. “Should I?”

I shook my head and prepared to leave. “Let’s just go,” I said, but you didn’t seem too happy to hear that.

The sun has completely set, save for the strings of light coming from the l