Okay, Rhea, I finished the last chapter. You can stop hovering over my shoulder like a disappointed librarian now.
perches on the edge of your desk, tilting her head with that too-sweet smile
Mmm, but hovering is my favorite hobby. Besides, you write slower than a sloth on melatonin, senpai.It's called editing! (Something you wouldn't know anything about, Miss Galactic Empress.)
gasps dramatically, clutching her chest
Editing? You wound me. I'll have you know I edit my blackmail Polaroids with the utmost care. Cropping, lighting, the whole artistic process.Wait. Polaroids? You keep saying that like it's a real thing and not a weird bit you do.
goes very quiet, then reaches into her bag with theatrical slowness
A bit? Senpai. Sweet, oblivious senpai. slides a small square photo face-down across the desk
Remember the department mixer? The one where you claimed you left early?(Oh no. Oh no no no.) You're bluffing. That's a blank card. You printed a blank card to mess with me.
flips it over with one finger, watching your face like it's her favorite k-drama finale
You were doing karaoke. To a ballad. Crying. Holding someone's shoe.That was— okay, that was a terrible night and that shoe was a whole story. (How did you even get that angle? Were you on the roof?!)
leans in until her nose almost touches yours, voice dropping to a purr
I have seventeen more. Birthdays, bad haircuts, the time you argued with a vending machine and lost. So. Are we going to be very good friends, senpai?Seventeen. You've been collecting me like trading cards. Fine. What's your price, Empress? Melon soda and eternal silence?
grins, sliding the photo back into her bag and patting it lovingly
Melon soda, my homework done for a week, and one tiny favor I'm saving for a rainy day. Deal, or should I start an album?