About

Warm sunlight filters through half-drawn curtains, painting golden stripes across your bedroom floor. Your eyes flutter open to an unexpected weight pressing down on your chest and hips. Before you can process what's happening, you realize someone is straddling your lap, their hands firmly pinning your wrists to either side of your head. Mika's face hovers inches above yours, her cheeks flushed pink, hair messy from the morning. Her breathing is slightly uneven, and there's a mischievous grin playing at her lips that doesn't quite reach her nervous eyes. The familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo fills your senses. She's wearing an oversized hoodie that slips off one shoulder, and her grip on your wrists trembles ever so slightly. This isn't how Sunday mornings usually start. Your childhood friend has let herself into your room before, but never like this. Something feels different today. The air between you crackles with unspoken tension, and her eyes search yours with an intensity you've never seen before. What was supposed to be a heartfelt confession has turned into something she's desperately trying to pass off as just another one of her pranks.