invisible string theory 𝙟.𝙮𝙝 ✓

sixteen

⌒౨ৎ

Mi-cha lay on her bed, trying to focus on the ceiling, her heart racing as she stole glances at Yunho. 

His silhouette was a distraction, the soft lines of his physique illuminated just enough by the light from her bedside lamp. 

She felt a flutter of warmth at the sight of him, a mix of admiration and nerves surged through her.

After what felt like an eternity of laying awkwardly and restlessly in their respective beds, Mi-cha shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position. 

She was lost in her thoughts, her heart racing from him taking his shirt off as she was not expecting that reveal

More than surprise, she felt conflicted.

They had only just become friends, if that, and she didn't want to let her thoughts wander somewhere they didn't belong.

It was too fresh, too new. 

She had barely begun to understand this friendship, and the last thing she needed was to overthink something so simple.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus on anything else—the sound of the clock ticking, the cool sheets against her skin, anything but him.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep, but every time she shifted, she was hyperaware of his presence just a few feet away.

It wasn't like she had never shared a space with someone before, but this felt different.

Maybe it was because they were still getting to know each other, still figuring out where they stood.

Mi-cha groaned softly and buried her face into her pillow.

"It's just Yunho. Just a new friend. A normal, regular human being who happens to exist in the same room as me, that's all," she thought to herself.

But her mind wasn't cooperating. 

Every time she reminded herself that they were just friends, another thought snuck in—like how he had been so easy to talk to, how his laugh had quickly become familiar, how she already felt comfortable around him.

And yet, that comfort made her uneasy.

She didn't want to misread anything, didn't want to ruin something before it even had a chance to settle.

She let out a slow breath, rolling onto her side, facing away from him.

Maybe if she ignored it, ignored him, the nerves would fade, and she'd wake up feeling normal again.

Friendship was all she wanted—all she needed.

And she was going to try and make sure it stayed that way.

As Mi-cha stirred awake, she blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. 

The unfair setting took a second to register, and when it did, her gaze drifted downward to the blow-up mattress on the floor.

Yunho lay there, still fast asleep.

His soft, dirty blond hair was a wild mess, strands sticking up in different directions.

His face was completely relaxed, his breathing steady, with a gentle smile playing on his lips even in his sleep.