Momo does not necessarily like to be compared in any literal and figurative sense, even if it was complimentary-wise.

But when it comes to Mina – sweet, sensational, breathtaking and fragile-natured Mina – she cannot help and refer to her to kisses of sunlight that washes her with mental nutrition, a healing she never knew needed, and to chocolates whenever she would crave for saccharinity amid a good time or to feed the cravings she never seem to get rid of no matter how much suppression she shoves down. She can’t resist the introvert who tends to lay in bed and play games and no matter what position she’s in (be it practicing choreographies or just doing plain hobbies) she would approach her like a kid being given candies in exchange for letting them off the hook, and would let herself be convinced otherwise because who wouldn’t when a beauty like Mina is the one doing so?

And when Mina flashes her with a, “Have you tried avocados?”

She tried those once, and she never really liked it.

“No, not that I recall of” She would drone, pretending to think deeply with a scrunch of her brows and a longing look she fixed on her face easily. She wanted to entertain Mina even in the mundane of questions.

“We should eat it sometimes. It’s another good source of potassium” Mina added, returning her attention to the screen of her switch as she plays the new mario kart game she purchased recently.

“Okay, sure” Momo agrees, and there goes her gut dropping at the realization of tasting avocados once more after years of avoidance. It will be tolerable, she notes, especially with Mina.

She never put a thought into it, when she agreed relentlessly and proceeded to lie beside Mina who scooted over to give Momo some space, because they were easily each other’s mind with a click from keys and locks. It was just that simple.

Or maybe the time she almost compares her to the divine ocean of mercy when she makes mistakes with her clumsiness, she deems leeched on her because she had been spending too much time with Sana for the past breaks. Mina would just giggle through slits and crescents Momo thought was the opening to her universe and to her soul, concealed with transparency of tears and emotions welling up to be released but is withheld.

Momo looks at Mina through the peaks of the door’s tiny window frame.

She was there, polishing her movements for their nearing special performance, and Momo cannot help but be mesmerized by the fluidity of each movement and grace implemented.

It swooned her, the passion flowing within Mina’s veins and her determination being unmatched – not that she does not have the same, but it’s exudation was definitely something diverse from every member, including hers – calling onto her for reassurance.

Momo plans on not getting caught, of course. She would rather just spectate through a clear but also opaque barrier that separates the acknowledgement of presences; and only accessing its winding can break it. Silences she cherishes by the language of gestures and interlacing sights, she would not like it in any other mean. The way her heart would create beats of dancing crusades, making her go partially insane if it wasn’t for this particular admiration she perceives on Mina growing and stretching as it suffices. Momo likes it when she is understood briefly through a minimum of terms or close to nothing at all. Quite hilariously, admittedly, she fancies them, the ones that get the need of others not because they sense something was wrong and compensation was prerequisite, but instead it is for the reason of evocative solicitude. Maybe something more, or perhaps just nothing at all. The contentment is a good notion to reminisce but also a frightening thing once you get too accustomed to it.

Momo knew that, yet she did not.

Not when she was too fixated on constellations of a pretty, white canvas. Not when she craves for hugs but is overly conscious when she has to do it on her friend. Not when she giggles through the tedious but trivial small talks the softer one initiates, even though she never really gets it. Not when she tends to brag about the small but vast gifts she receives from Mina and she gets injected with infectious ecstasy. Not when she would try repugnant foods in her case just for the sake of letting the younger know she can adapt to changing flavors she inclines to barf but would still swallow it whole to impress. And especially not when she is desperately falling in love with her and would embed in her mind that what she was spouting was just platonic.

She was definitely not adjusting to this new profound feeling she shuns.

And the next thing she knew, the door was opened and she was faced with a drenched Mina whose features were greatly accentuated with glimmerz of sweat and blinding lights that ranges of ghostly allure and seemingly charming lucidity.

“Momo?” She questioned; shock written all over her expression.

“H-Hey Minari” Momo casually greeted, hoping to whatever savior above to save her from embarrassment.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the sound management team to discuss the music we’re supposed to be using?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m already done with that. They agreed with your song choice, the uhh…” Momo cursed inwardly. The name was hard to pronounce so she just showed the team the song Mina was talking about instead.

“Le quattro Stagioni” Mina chuckled, swiping perspiration from her neck as she accepted the water given.

“Right, that” Momo tries not to ogle at how Mina consumed the liquid from the bottle. The bare minimum inching itself would be the death of her.

“Just make sure it was the G minor one, y’know the Summer concerto, the presto – ”

Momo pats Mina’s shoulder, bringing her out of her daze, “Don’t worry, I never went through the trouble and showed them the music in my phone instead”

It was Mina’s turn to laugh, “Alright, you got a point. I’ll just change into