Jimin could feel the weight pressing against her bottom, heavy but soft. The warm hands on her back—in all its strength and tenderness— skillfully roam around, relieving her pressure points using long fingers.  Drawing indefinite shapes that made Jimin gasp.

It was, to say the least, heavenly.

Just pure, indescribable, pleasure

Jimin lets out a breathy sigh—almost a moan, and she’s embarrassed by how lewd it sounded. As if it came from an overly exaggerated o. Not that she has ever seen one, I’ve never, not really my thing, I just imagined—oh Lord, she’s totally losing it.

“Minjeong,” she breathes, the name sounding more like a desperate murmur appropriate inside the bedroom rather than a word used to address a person. Jimin berates herself for thinking like that. So she closes her eyes instead, and puts her hand on to avoid further embarrassment.

“Hmm, unnie?” Minjeong hums on her ear.

Jimin could smell Minjeong’s shampoo, coconut with a faint smell of strawberry. The one Minjeong was so adamant on buying even though it was cutting their budget. Jimin could now see why, and she made a mental note to buy another bottle for herself.

Minjeong’s hands slip up and down behind her back, covering each space, leaving hot marks all over Jimin’s skin, making her shallow breaths even slower, more ragged. Each press of Minjeong’s thumb sends her spiraling into oblivion. Fingernails grazing ever so slightly it drove Jimin mad. Her heart beating so loud she’s afraid the younger girl could feel it.

Jimin coughs.

“I think that’s enough,” she says, surprised that she even managed to keep her voice steady and commanding.

Minjeong leans in, her hands holding Jimin’s waist, the oil made Minjeong’s palms slippery and soft, warming Jimin up as she whispers, “Are you sure—”

The door swung open, revealing Aeri and Ningning, “Hello everyone—”

Minjeong stood abruptly, and Jimin immediately gets up, sitting down on the couch like a deer caught in headlights. She watches Minjeong’s red face, the younger girl bolted towards her bed room in lightning speed.

“What’s happening?” Ningning hums excitedly.

Jimin scoffs, fixes her shirt, discreetly hooking her bra (Aeri noticed, and she threw Jimin a raised brow). She upped her chin in defiance, pretending like nothing happened. Because it’s true, nothing happened.

“What was that?” Aeri asks, squinting in judgment.

“What was what?” Jimin feigns innocence.

 I am innocent.

“That,” Ningning smiles teasingly, “we saw that unnie. Minjeong unnie’s literally on top of you.”

“Yeah,” Jimin nods, she should win an Oscar for this. Managing to keep a straight face when your heart’s about to jump out of your chest certainly is worthy of an Academy award. Yoo Jimin could give the Meryl Streep a run for her money if she wants to.

Jimin straightened up, even though she’s not, in a slightly different context, straight, “Minjeong was just giving me a massage.”

Ningning chuckles, “Right. A massage.”

“I am not lying,” Jimin frowns, looks at Aeri for help.

Aeri just shrugged, “Sure, Jimin. Whatever you say.”

Jimin sighs in frustration, feeling the oil stick relentlessly to the cotton of her shirt. She slumped again on the couch, burying her face on the pillow. Thoughts replaying how Minjeong’s hands slipped smoothly on her back, and how the two of them wound up in such a compromising position.

It began with an offer, Jimin thinks.

Actually, it might have been her whiny dramatic . Crawling from the door towards the couch, complaining loudly about how much her muscle hurts. Jimin’s exact words were, feels like it has been hammered repeatedly with a mallet, molded like dough and then thrown off from the top of Empire State building, dropped lifelessly on the road to be trampled on by pedestrians.

Okay that one wasn’t hyperbolic, because she does feel like that.

Jimin was just tired, squeezing swimming practice and taekwondo lessons, thesis, and a part time job all throughout her week.

So you can’t really blame her when she accepted Minjeong’s offer to be her masseuse for the day. The latter bouncing happily, rambling about how she’s so excited to use the chamomile oil she bought with Ningning when they went out. Minjeong grins widely, I’ve been studying pressure points, she says, assuring Jimin that she’s going to feel a thousand times better after.

Jimin wanted to say that there’s no need; that Minjeong could just sit there and talk, and smile and laugh and Jimin’s cells will go against biology’s laws and magically repair themselves. Because her presence is enough, Kim Minjeong is enough.

But that’s too cheesy, a dead giveaway to what Jimin truly feels.

So she kept shut, smiling instead.

Jimin blew air on her bangs, reaching for a pillow to muffle a scream.

“Aeri unnie,” Ningning munches on her chocolate, “are you seeing this?” She motions Jimin on the living room, “and are you seeing that?” Ningning points towards Minjeong’s room. Minjeong stood idly at the door, contemplating whether to come out or not.

“They are so tiring,” Aeri sighs, shaking her head, “I’m exhausted.”

Ningning nods in agreement, “True. Why can’t they just peck already?”

Aeri and Ningning both watched Minjeong walk straight passed Jimin on her way to the bathroom. Jimin calls her out, but the younger girl didn’t pay her any attention. They saw Jimin groan, slapping her face in the process.

“I can’t,” Aeri says dramatically, “I can’t watch this. We have to do something.”

Ningning pops a malteser on , smiling evilly, “You know what? I have a plan.”

Aeri chuckles and winks, “That better be a good one or else we’re doing mine.”

Minjeong stood in front of the mirror, putting her earrings on. The girl cleaned up really nice, clad in a black turtle neck, and denim jeans. Her leather jacket draped casually on her shoulder, Minjeong looks beautiful and cool and no—Jimin is definitely not staring. The mirror just happens to be situated in the living room where she usually hangs out.

“You going somewhere?” Jimin coughs.

Winter looks back to her with a shy smile, “Yes.”

Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask—

“A date?”

Ah, .

Jimin sips on her hot choco, buying herself some time to recover from the impulsiveness of her question. She grips her mug, the heat seeping through her skin, sobering her up. Minjeong laughs, the sound providing a distraction to the answer Jimin anticipates.

“Yes,” Minjeong giggles. “Aeri unnie set me up on a date.”

Jimin chokes on her saliva, “She did?”

“Yeah,” the younger girl’s eyes smile was so bright, as if she’s really excited. Jimin frowns, now she has to talk to Aeri for randomly setting Minjeong. It’s just so unusual, and in the middle of a school week? Seriously? That’s just plain irresponsible. She knows Minjeong is smart and can certainly ace a math exam without reviewing but what about her health? School is draining and Minjeong should rest, of all people, Aeri should know that.

Now, you’re just making excuses. Just admit that you’re jealous, a voice sounding so much like Ningning rang on her head.

Jimin blinks hard; it must’ve been the sugar rush. It’s been her fourth cup of hot choco after all.

“Oh,” Jimin bit her lip, tries not to sound too bitter, “I just thought we’re watching movies tonight.”

“Yeah,” Minjeong scratches her head, “but you cancelled remember? You told me you are busy with your papers.”

Ah, so now you find a replacement?

Jimin stop.

“Right,” Jimin laughs awkwardly, “right, right.” She felt something stung inside her chest, stomach now lurching in something green. Jimin forced a smile, words coming out through her gritted teeth, “Good luck on your date then.”

Minjeong grins, “I’m a bit nervous though.”

Sure, she’s not the one Minjeong’s nervous about meeting up with, and it infuriated her—but the way Minjeong said it, all shy and soft with gestures so endearing… it made Jimin melt. Reduced into a puddle, her bubbling frustration gone in a blink of an eye.

Jimin settles her mug on the kitchen counter, walking towards where Minjeong is. She dusts off nonexistent dirt on the younger girl’s leather jacket, “You can do it, okay? You’re fine. You’re wonderful, she’s gonna love you.”

Minjeong makes cute noises, shakes her hand like a puppy, and Jimin watches, because oh God, why does she have to be so adorable?

“I really hope so,” Minjeong murmurs.

Jimin nods, I don’t.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Ningning huffs impatiently.

Aeri sips on her iced coffee, “Patience is a virtue, Ning. Trust me.”

On Minjeong’s first date, Jimin had stayed up late, eyes fixed on their door. Cocooned on the couch like a burrito, the only light illuminating the whole living room was the television. She’s not even paying attention to the drama playing out, she’s just waiting for Minjeong to come home. To come back to her.

But she fell asleep that night.

And the person she’s waiting for was kind enough to wake her up, patting her cheeks lightly.

Her hands were cold, “Unnie… let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“No,” Jimin stirred, “I’m doing my papers—” She motioned the papers scattered all over the coffee table to support her point but it was a lie. She has never touched anything since Minjeong left. Mind too occupied by possible scenarios that her academic responsibilities were suddenly pushed back.

Minjeong chuckled, a bit hoarse, and Jimin’s face heats up, “You can do that tomorrow.”

Jimin sighed, got up but not before asking, “How did the date go?”

Even in the dark, Jimin could make out the way Minjeong’s mouth curv