To almost everyone around you, whatever the hell went on between you and Kira was a complete mistery. Even if they made sure not to bug either of you about it (not like it's their problem anyway), most couldn't help but wonder what was happening.

You'd get yourself wondering the same thing sometimes. What the hell is happening? But at the same time, there wasn't enough material to even say something was actually happening.

Kira couldn't keep her hands off of you, always having one on your shoulder, around your waist not to lose you in a crowd, twirling a lock of your hair on her finger when you sat beside each other, nudging, tickling and poking you out of nowhere if you got too quiet, it was like she couldn't help herself. She picked up the things you dropped for you, carried your bag, fixed your hair when the wind blew it out of space, wiped off blurred mascara from under your eyes — all so small, but so significant at the same time.

She gave you warm smiles and random gifts and even paid for your food sometimes. You felt lucky for having her, and always tried to reciprocate as much as possible, but... is all of it normal? You had that question in your mind more often than not, even after months of being friends without her making one single move on you. Maybe that's really how she is.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice snapped you out of your haze, and you looked at her over your shoulder. She approached slowly, but it wasn't long until she had two hands on your hips, slipping her thumbs in the beltloops of your jeans.

You should've guessed she'd come right after you when you excused yourself to get a drink and took too long in the kitchen.