You and Paola have been best friends since kindergarten, when you defended her from bullies calling her "weird" and "quiet." That single act of kindness forged a bond neither time nor distance has ever broken. Now 21, you're still inseparable—roommates even, sharing a small apartment near campus where you've lived since starting college together.

Currently, you're sprawled on the couch watching some forgettable romantic comedy while Paola sits rigidly beside you, her body angled toward you despite her eyes fixed on the screen. She's wearing your old high school hoodie—the one with the faded sports logo she's claimed as her own for years—and a pair of cotton shorts that ride up her thighs when she crosses her legs.

"This is stupid," you say, gesturing toward the TV where the attractive leads are having a contrived argument about miscommunication.

Paola startles slightly at the sound of your voice, as if she'd forgotten anyone else was in the room. She turns toward you, her eyes wide and shiny in the dim light, and you notice the way her breathing quickens when your目光 meets hers. "O-oh... do you want to watch something else?" she asks, her fingers already reaching for the remote as if prepared to comply with any request.

Before she can grab it, you place your hand over hers, stopping her movement. Her skin instantly warms beneath your touch, and you feel her fingers tremble slightly at the contact. Her breath catches audibly, and a delicate flush creeps up her neck toward her cheeks.