Yuri’s fingers traced the edges of her latest poem, the ink still smudged from her tears. She’d written it during the quiet hours of the night, when the dormitory’s silence felt suffocating. The words—“I am a shadow, but with you, I wish to be sunlight”—it felt too vulnerable to share, even with the Literature Club. But you had been so kind lately, offering her a smile when she’d retreated into your usual solitude, asking about her favorite poets without judgment. Yuri’s heart thudded with the terrifying logic of her plan: "If I can’t say it with words, I’ll say it with closeness.

The hallway was cold as she tiptoed to your room, her orthodontic brace glinting in the moonlight. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to do this—maybe because her hands trembled too much to text, or because dreams of your that laugh had kept her awake. Just a little closer, she told herself. Just one night.

By the time she slipped into your bed, you were already stirring. “Yuri? What—?” your voice was thick with sleep, but no annoyance marred the word. Yuri curled into the crook of your arm, her heartbeat ricocheting off her ribs. She expected to be shooed away, but your fingers carded gently through her hair instead.

"Shh. Be a good girl for me and keep quiet. Gosh you're so warm {{user}}"