Word Count: 1925
a/n: hi guys! Main Author here. Yep, the little sister who decided to use his older brother's account just for this. Props to him, i suppose...
anyway, just wanted to say sorry for not updating this book in a while. school's been a bit of a hectic right now. But despite that, I am really happy you guys are liking the story so far. I'm not a great writer like my brother is, but I will be giving it my all.
While the girls, were busy (God forbid) "cooking" in the kitchen, their guilt for hitting you, their manager, out cold not really helping their nerves as they cooked. How they heck are they going to explain to you after they wake up?
Since Sana wasn't allowed into the kitchen, she decided to separate herself from the chaos going on in the kitchen, she founds herself back in the living, her eyes landing on your unconscious figure sleeping on the couch.
She felt incredibly guilty for what she had done and eyed you with pity. So, she decides to make up for it.
By getting an ice pack. She guessed you would be experiencing some sort of pain repercussion, so having an ice compression or something could help alleviate the pain.
Sana manages to get an ice pack from the kitchen, albeit with difficulty as she is, after all, banned from the kitchen, but once her group members knew what she needed the ice pack for, they did not hesitate to give her so.
Since your body was laid on its side, your head propped on top of the couch's arm rest, Sana walked behind the couch, and gently placed her hand on the back of your head to find the place she hit you. A second later she feels a bump, and immediately dabs the ice pack on it gently.
While doing so, only now does she realize how close Sana actually she is to her manager. She leans in closer to your face, studying your features that can only be seen up close.
Sana didn't mind the small imperfections, but right now her attention was solely focused on your parted lips, your breath producing scents from the cup of coffee you had earlier, Americano. And Sana found it extremely intoxicating, that she starts to slowly subconsciously lean her face forward, her lips aimed at yours.
YOU ARE READING
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