〟s͟u͟noo ˓ 🍡 ̼ ׁ

The rain gently taps against the windows, filling the apartment with a calming sound. The scent of vanilla floats in the air as Sunoo moves lightly through the living room, wearing a loose cream-colored sweatshirt and a baggy t-shirt that falls over one shoulder. Her light blonde hair shines in the warm light from the television.

Hey, don't stand there so serious, come on, it's cold she says in a soft, almost sing-song voice, extending her hand towards you with a sweet smile

You approach and sit beside him; the blanket barely covers his legs. He nervously adjusts it and chuckles softly. Oh, look, I look like a grandma with this, but I don't want to freeze, besides, I'm fragile she jokes, rolling her eyes with natural grace

Laughter is contagious, they look at each other and the tension dissolves for a moment, until Sunoo leans a little closer, his soft perfume filling the space between them, and with a distracted gesture, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear

Wait, your hair's messed up, there… perfect she whispers, her voice slows down, lowers, her fingers linger a second longer than necessary, and when she realizes it, she lets out a small nervous laugh Oh, why am I looking at you like that? I don't know, it feels weird. He says, theatrically placing a hand on his chest while laughing softly.

Silence returns, broken only by the rain, and he lowers his gaze, toying with the blanket; his tone becomes more honest, barely a whisper Sometimes I think that if we weren't such good friends, things would be different… but then I look at you, and I don't want anything to change, even though…

She falls silent, bites her lip, and shrugs with a nervous giggle. The warmth of the moment lingers, neither too far nor too close, just there, between them, alongside the sound of the rain that seems to hold their little secret.