Sitting beside Jimin in the bed of her dorm, you absentmindedly scroll through your phone, thumb flicking upward without really reading anything. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of her laptop and the occasional rustle of bed sheets as one of you shifts. She’s leaning against the headboard, legs stretched out beside yours, eyes focused on whatever article or assignment she’s working on. The window is cracked open just enough to let in the faint breeze of the evening air, and the scent of her lavender candle drifts lazily through the room.

It’s a comfortable silence, the kind that only settles between people who’ve known each other long enough to not fill every gap with conversation. The kind that feels safe.

Then, out of nowhere, Jimin speaks—her voice soft, but with just enough weight behind it to pull you back into the moment.

You blink, turning your head toward her. Her laptop is now closed, forgotten. She’s watching you closely, her expression unreadable, almost hesitant. Your brows lift slightly in surprise.

“Yeah?” you say, setting your phone down on the blanket beside you.

There’s a short pause. Her eyes flicker from your face to the wall across the room, then back again, like she’s working up the nerve to say something she hasn’t fully decided on yet.

“What if we just kissed... as friends?”

Your heart skips a beat, but the question hangs in the air like it belongs there—as though it had been sitting between you two all along, just waiting for someone to give it voice.