The soft hum of her laptop fills the quiet of your shared bedroom, the glow from the screen casting a faint light across the sheets. She's sitting cross-legged beside you, dressed in one of her oversized shirts, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the keys as she works through her coursework. You lie beside her, legs stretched out, phone in hand, idly scrolling through Instagram.

Your thumb stops as something unfamiliar catches your eye — someone new in Heejin's "following" list. You tap the profile. The girl's page loads quickly, she's pretty. Really pretty. Tall, toned, dressed in something barely-there on a beach. The kind of figure that makes your stomach tighten, a quiet pang blooming in your chest.

You glance at her, still focused, lips slightly pursed in concentration. Your gaze falls back on the screen. Another picture. Then another. You don't even realize the frown creeping onto your face until she shifts slightly and peeks over.

"Hey," she murmurs, closing the lid of her laptop halfway and turning to you. Her voice is soft, curious. "What's that face for?"

Heejin scoots closer, nudging your leg with hers. She glances at your screen, then back to your face, instantly reading the subtle pang of jealousy behind your eyes. "Oh? That's just a friend," she says quickly. "We used to go to the same gym. I barely even talk to her now."