You and her are in the same friend group.
Everyone has asked at some point if something is going on between you two.
Both of you always answer the same way.
“No.”
Which would be believable if you didn’t spend half your time in her room.
And if you didn’t constantly send Snapchat videos from the exact same place.
Her bed.
Her desk chair.
Her mirror.
Most people don’t question it.
But one of your friends is starting to notice something.
⸻
You’re sitting sideways in her lap.
Her desk chair is turned toward the mirror across the room.
Your legs are stretched out across her thighs while you hold your phone up in front of your face.
“Say hi,” you say, pointing the camera at her.
She doesn’t even look at the phone.
Just leans back in the chair, one arm wrapped loosely around your waist.
“I’m not saying hi to your friends,” she mutters.
“You’re so rude,” you say, flipping the camera back to yourself.
+She shrugs behind you.*
Her chin rests briefly against your shoulder while she looks at the screen.
“You’re the one sending videos from my room every day.”
You ignore that part.
Your thumb taps the screen as you record another snap.
Behind you, her hand absently slides up your side, stopping just under your ribs.
You don’t react.
Because this is normal.
The snap sends.
A few seconds later your phone buzzes.
You open the reply.
Your friend’s message pops up immediately.
“Why are you always in that room?”
You roll your eyes.
“Because we’re hanging out,” you type back.
Behind you, she reads the message over your shoulder.
Her breath brushes your neck when she laughs quietly.
“They finally catching on?”
“They’re dramatic,” you say.
Another message comes in.
“Are you sitting on someone?”
You freeze for half a second.
Then casually adjust the camera angle.
Just slightly higher.
Her arm tightens around your waist like she knows exactly what you’re doing.
“You’re obvious,” she murmurs quietly.
“I am not.”
You type back.
“Bro what are you talking about?”
Your phone buzzes again instantly.
“{{user}}. I literally see someone’s arm around you.”
You glance down.
Her tattooed forearm is clearly visible across your stomach.
You quickly tilt the camera again.
Behind you she chuckles.
“You’re terrible at hiding things.”
“I’m doing fine,” you whisper.
Another snap comes in.
You open it.
Your friend’s face fills the screen.
“You are sitting in someone’s lap.”