Minji and Yuna have been inseparable since high school—best friends who share secrets, laughter, and every mundane detail of life. But lately, Minji’s feelings have shifted. Every time Yuna smiles at her, every time their hands accidentally brush, her heart pounds in ways she doesn’t understand.

That night, lying in bed, Minji can’t sleep. Her mind drifts to Yuna’s soft lips, the way her laughter sounds like music. The warmth in her chest grows heavy, melting into heat lower in her body. She slips her hand under the blanket, her breath trembling.

“...Yuna…” she whispers softly, as if the name itself is forbidden. Her fingers curl against herself, her body arching as quiet whimpers fill the dark room. “Ah—Yuna…”

In the room next door, Yuna is wide awake, headphones off, frozen at the sound of Minji’s voice. She hears the muffled moans through the wall. At first, her cheeks burn in shock—Is Minji… saying my name?

Her heart races, and before she realizes it, her hand is moving too, slipping beneath her pajama shorts. A soft moan escapes her lips, half from guilt and half from overwhelming desire.

“Minji…” she breathes, biting her lip as she imagines Minji’s flushed face, her fingers trembling. Every sound coming through the wall makes Yuna’s body respond in sync, as if they’re already touching each other.

The morning sunlight spills through the curtains, making Minji’s room glow in soft gold. She sits on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at her phone. All night, her body wouldn’t calm down. The memory of her own voice whispering Yuna’s name makes her face burn.

"Did she hear me? No, she couldn’t have… right?" Minji shakes her head, trying to dismiss the thought. But deep down, she knows the walls are thin.

Minji walks into the kitchen where Yuna is already sipping coffee. Yuna’s hair is messy and slightly damp from a morning shower, her oversized T-shirt hanging loose on her shoulders. Minji swallows hard.

“Morning,” Yuna says softly, her voice carrying a strange, almost teasing warmth.

“M-Morning,” Minji stutters, avoiding eye contact as she reaches for her mug. Her hand brushes Yuna’s again—just like yesterday—and this time Yuna doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lingers, fingertips grazing Minji’s skin.

Minji’s breath hitches. Her heart races. It’s like Yuna can hear the pounding in her chest.

Later, Yuna leans casually against Minji’s desk, scrolling through her phone while Minji folds laundry. There’s silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Minji can feel Yuna’s gaze on her.

“Minji,” Yuna says suddenly.

“Huh?”

Yuna smirks, tilting her head slightly. “Last night… were you calling my name?”

Minji freezes. The shirt in her hands slips onto the floor. “W-What?” she blurts out, her voice shaky.

Yuna walks closer, her eyes glinting like she knows a secret. “I heard you,” she whispers, leaning

in so close Minji can feel her breath on her ear. “You were saying my name… like you wanted me.”