𝐍𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ᵏᵗʰ

07 ┃ 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

━ ⭒─⭑━

The weeks that followed the hoodie's loss were like attempting to navigate a hurricane without a map. Seora felt helpless, watching her best friend retreat into a grief-stricken, reclusive shell.

The first week was the hardest. You had retreated to your room, an escape from dealing with the outside world but a prison for your thoughts.

Seora would frequently catch herself listening for any sound or sign of your former self. Yet, all she could hear were muffled sobs through the thin walls at night, each one a sharp stab to her own heart.

By the second week, there was a hesitant attempt to go back to normal. You came out of your room more often, joining Seora for meals or sitting with her in silence while she carried on with her never-ending obsession with Sims. But the sadness lingered in your eyes, a constant reminder of the void the hoodie's absence had left in your heart.

Seora caught glimpses of your old self—the moments where a small joke would make you smile for a split second before it was gone; it was a dance between shadow and light, with sadness lingering like a stubborn fog.

The third week was unpredictable. Some days, you seemed almost normal, laughing at Seora's antics and engaging in small chores around the apartment. But then, without warning, the tide would turn, bringing you back down to earth, leaving Seora on constant alert, ready to catch you when the memories became too heavy—when the absence became too much.

In an attempt to break the cycle, Seora planned a surprise. After finishing her errands early one day, she went on a little shopping spree, her arms loaded with bags as she stumbled into the apartment.

"Hey," you greeted with a soft smile, the amusement clear in your eyes as you watched her struggle with the load; your voice, though quiet, was a welcome sound to Seora's ears.

"Hello~" she sang, dropping the bags beside the sofa with a dramatic flair before collapsing down beside you. "Errands went well. Got everything we needed, and then some."

Before you could blink, she was up again, grabbing one of the bags and tossing it into your lap with an eager grin. "Open it! Open it!" She practically vibrated in her seat as she urged, "Open it!"

Laughing at her impatience, you reached into the bag, your fingers brushing against something surprisingly smooth. "Cow-press on nails?" you questioned, amusement lacing your voice as you held up the quirky item.

Seora's giggle filled the room as she halted your further examination. "Wait, there's more. Trust me," she whispered, her grin contagious.

Reaching back into the bag, you picked up a fluffy RJ t-shirt, its innocent gaze peering up at you.

Confusion mixed with a growing warmth at the sight, Seora's thoughtful selection a balm to the ache you hadn't realized was so deep.

"I noticed your phone case," Seora began, an explanation on the tip of her tongue as she watched your reaction. "Thought we could match," she added, revealing her own choice—a cookie t-shirt clutched in her grasp, a new phone case proudly displayed.

"But why Shooky?" you found yourself asking, genuinely curious; you'd think, given her bubbly and energetic personality, she'd choose Mang.

"Because it reminds me of the time I decided to bake us cookies a couple of weeks ago," she replied, a wistful smile playing on her.

You shivered as you recalled that eventful day; all you remembered was smoke, burnt bricks that were supposed to be chocolate chip cookies, and screams. "Yeah, it was... memorable."