[10:10 a.m] Joohyun turns over, rustling the sheets like autumn leaves. She sleepily buries her face into the warmth of a sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie.

. . . . .

Seungwan looks up from the sink and over to the living room. Her head still pounds a little but the Ibuprofen seems to be kicking in. A soft smile traces her lips as she sees who’s asleep on the sofa. It really that they’re both such hardworking students who’d rather be an hour late to a class than miss it, because it’s surely a crime to disturb someone so at peace they’re almost glowing in the sun’s morning rays.

And if the rumours are true, It’s also probably a crime to have her here at all. Seungwan thinks of all the ways she could get arrested for harbouring gangster daughters of mob leaders but ends up losing herself in the composition of Joohyun’s sleeping face. Even her friends believed that whole dumb ‘secret gangster life’, but Seungwan doesn’t recall gangsters tossing and turning with such fluffy bed hair, looking so cute and tiny in her favourite oversized hoodie.

Joohyun rouses to the sound of gentle clinking and running water. 

The faint scent of alcohol and detergent seeps into her nose and she yawns, trying to engulf herself in the toasty heat radiating across her body from— not her hoodie. Glancing down, she realises she doesn’t own the waffle beige pajama pants currently hugging her legs either.

Oh? 

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, the older girl shifts off the sofa and grabs her own denim shorts from the floor beside her. Minutes later, socked feet pad over to the girl in the kitchen, elbow–deep in sudsy water. Seungwan acts surprised when Joohyun hops onto the counter next to the sink. 

“Morning, unnie,” she chirps, “did you sleep well?”

Joohyun hums an affirmative and nothing more, but the other girl already senses the multitude of questions running through her head.

“It’s okay, unnie,” she laughs sheepishly, causing an eyebrow to perk up. She gestures to the hoodie swallowing Joohyun’s petite frame. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. I even let you choose which of my pants you wanted.”

“Oh,” comes the reply. “What happened? Kinda hard to remember.”

Seungwan just smiles down. “I wouldn’t be surprised, unnie. You really went ham last night. I didn’t think you had it in you. It was fun to watch.”

Joohyun scoffs, running delicate fingers through disheveled waves. She pauses to watch the younger rinsing out the empty Hite Jinro bottles and stacking them upside down on the dish rack. “Why did you let me sleep? I could— I should’ve gone home.”

The girl shoots a quick glance in her direction, eyes widening at the way Joohyun’s bare thighs press together in her line of sight. She gulps and flutters a few blinks, shifting her attention back to the glass and sponge. “It— it wasn’t safe so late, even for a cab. It’s fine though,” she quickly adds, “Seul’s bus only arrives this evening, and Yerimie texted this morning saying she ate through Saeron’s fridge so she’s coming home tonight. So it wasn’t like you were intruding or anything.”

Joohyun suppresses a slight grin at the girl’s rosy ears. She plucks a freshly rinsed glass from Seungwan’s slippery grip.

“How do you get these so sparkly, Wan?” She inspects it like an artefact, completely changing the pace and throwing the junior off guard. “You could sell this to a museum, I bet.” 

“I’m a barista, remember? It’s kinda the other third of my job.” Seungwan chuckles at the thought of her scratched up Ikea glasses in glass displays of their own, with fanatics fawning and taking pictures. 

She racks the last glass and dries her hands. “Come on, unnie. We’re running a bit late. I know you can’t function without your caffeine so it’ll have to be campus coffee today.”

Joohyun’s eyes double in size and she claps. “Really? Wow I love that—”

Seungwan whips around to narrow her eyes.

“— you’re willing to lower your standards for me.” 

“Thought so.”

. . . . .

[1:00 p.m] Son Seungwan stares at her strawberry-cream sandwich as her brain flicks through memories of last night. 

. . . . . 

“Yah,” Yerim fakes a punch right at Seungwan’s face, immediately flinging the girl from her spiraling thoughts. “Hell–o? Son Seung–wan re–port to base im–me–di–ate–ly,” she announces robotically, mimicking speaking into a walkie talkie. 

“Huh? Yerimie?”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “ Finally. You good? You’ve been spaced out since lit this morning.”

She doesn’t get to ask why she saw her and Joohyun stumbling in through the fire exit twenty minutes late before three people— including the very person in question— are making their way over to the table.

Two trays set down on either side of Seungwan and one beside Yerim. They try not to drool at the sight of the fancy dishes; grilled beef simmered in sukiyaki broth, steaming chicken curry rice, golden-brown battered tempura udon accompanied by side snacks like cubed fruit and matcha ice cream. And don’t even start on the cream-topped, sprinkled drinks. Because of the sheer number of study sessions they’ve organised, both parties quickly became more comfortable around each other.

“Hello,” Jennie greets while finding the perfect angle to Instagram her lunch. “You were gone a while Yerim-ah. Did you miss us?”

“Pshh, as if.” The girl tries to sound nonchalant but the excitement in her eyes is impossible to mask.

“Sure, kid,” Jennie smirks, and Yerim immediately breaks the fluster building inside her with that stupid bus joke Seungwan’s heard a thousand times. 

Still, it gets the laughter pouring in.

Seungwan is internally awe-stricken. Yerimie is a freaking natural.

The table dissolves into mundane chatter, everyone eager to catch up with what each other’s done over the long weekend. Movies are discussed, restaurants are rated and stories are exchanged. The voices fade into background noise that eventually falls right back as Seungwan starts to wonder things.

Silly things. 

From across her, she follows Joohyun’s steady hand, deftly gripping the springy udon between chopsticks and masterfully twirling them into the spoon for the perfect mouthful. She remembers that fist punching Lucas in the nose, remembers the lipstick bruises staining sharp knuckles, and then she wonders if that’s the first time something’s ever made her physically violent. Then her gaze discreetly travels to Joohyun’s lips as she chews. Seungwan wonders the worst thing that has ever come from a mouth as pretty as hers. She wonders if she knows that she tightens the clamp around her bruised heart every time she calls her ‘Wan’, wants to know what it’d feel like to—

“Um, Seungwan?”

The poor kid is only just now realising her daydream is sitting right across her, talking to her roommate and best friend. “You’re right. She’s really spaced out today, huh.” She aims a coy smile at a hapless Seungwan, watching as rouge scribbles across those milky cheeks. “Is something wrong, Seungwan?”

“No, no! I’m fine!” she laughs, nibbling on the corner of her sandwich. “I’m just a little tired I guess.”

“Duh,” Sooyoung casually blurts. “Who knows what time you guys ended up sleeping last night.” 

Jennie flinches to interject with some random statement to shut her the hell up but the cat’s already out of the bag.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yerim her head so hard she looks like a right-angle ruler. Jennie sighs at their idiot friend. Joohyun stays silent but her eyes twinkle mischievously, chin poised on an open palm. 

Seungwan can’t breathe, she can’t look away, and she can’t move to help Yerim pick her jaw off the ground.

She can’t process any of it.

Not when Joohyun looks that pretty just… being.

. . . . . 

[7:00 p.m] Seulgi barges in and immediately starts handing out little freebies and trinkets she’d acquired from her weekend dance trip. Her roommates are smitten with studio keychains, logo–embroidered plush face towels and a singular roll of toe–wrap tape.

. . . . .

“Wan-ah, what the heck? She spent the night?” Seulgi frantically points at the now cluttered sofa. “On that?” 

Yerim nods solemnly, putting on her best betrayed expression. “And I heard it from Sooyoung unnie. The betrayal is real right now.”

The dancer perks up slightly. “Sooyoungie? How is she?”

The youngest laughs. “Right, how could I forget you guys are practically dating right now. ”

Seungwan reassures her with a pat on the back and a sly wink. “She’s fine, Seul. Miss her much?” 

The girl hastily splutters a denial but the dust of pink settled in her cheeks tells quite a different story. Yerim gets them back on track, waving a towel between her two friends’ faces. “Hello, Joohyun unnie plus Seungwan unnie? In the same room? Unattended?”

Seungwan gives up with tantrum legs kicking into the air to relieve the embarrassing heat in her face. “Ahh, it was nothing!!!” 

“Wan, there are four Hite bottles in the dishrack and it was nothing??” Seulgi asks suspiciously. “Does she know that?” 

. . . . .