invisible string ,, 니키

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 , heart-to-heart

☆

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AS HARI REENTERED RIKI'S room, she couldn't help but feel a bit flustered by the whole balcony incident. the alcohol had certainly contributed to her recklessness, but she was not one to admit it easily.

riki, on the other hand, couldn't hide the relief that washed over him as he followed her back inside. he knew it was going to be a challenging night, but at least he had prevented a potentially dangerous situation.

hari plopped down onto riki's bed, her earlier anger fading as she faced the reality of her inebriation. "okay, fine. you were right. it was a stupid idea."

riki gave a small, almost triumphant grin, appreciating her moment of vulnerability. "well, you don't hear that from you often," he teased.

hari rolled her eyes, trying to maintain her stubborn facade. "don't get used to it. it's just the alcohol talking."

the party downstairs continued, music and laughter drifting up to riki's room. hari, however, seemed more focused on the sudden awkwardness that had settled between them after the balcony incident.

riki decided to break the silence. "so, you should stay here and rest for a bit. you'll sober up faster."

hari agreed, the alcohol beginning to take its toll. she lay back on riki's bed, closing her eyes for a moment. "thanks for... not letting me make a fool of myself."

riki, despite their rivalry, couldn't help but be a bit touched by her gratitude. he pulled up a chair beside his bed, deciding to keep her company as she recovered from her impulsive stunt. "no problem, hari. just don't expect me to be your babysitter all night."

as hari lay there, trying to regain some sobriety, riki glanced around his room. the memories of growing up in this house, the late-night conversations, the arguments, the shared moments with friends, and the countless memories of a childhood friendship with hari seemed to converge in this room.

riki's gaze landed on a worn-out poster of their favorite band from when they were kids. it had been a gift from hari for his birthday. he remembered how they used to play air guitar and sing along to their favorite songs, oblivious to the world outside.

the boy remembered the countless times they'd explored the neighborhood, the adventures they'd had, the games they'd played, and the secrets they'd shared.

he couldn't help but recall the time when they were inseparable friends, the two kids who laughed, played, and sometimes bickered but always had each other's backs.

he remembered those long summer days when they'd play in the park, their laughter filling the air as they raced each other and played on the swings. he smiled to himself as he recalled that one time hari got into a fight with a kid on the playground because the kid had pushed him off the swing he was sitting on. hari's fierce protectiveness over her friend had been evident even then.

riki's memories led him to a particularly vivid recollection of hari's mother, a strict but somewhat (and sometimes) kind woman. she had been furious with hari after that playground fight, not because of the fight itself but because hari's dress was ruined. he remembered how hari had reluctantly accepted her punishment, all the while glaring at the kid who had dared to push him.

riki turned his attention back to hari, who was now looking at him with an odd mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. the alcohol had softened some of the tension between them, and now, in this quiet moment, they were just two teenagers in a room, not sworn rivals.