Aika. Kind sister.

As you enter and sit with me on the soft, white rug in the middle of my bedroom, I feel my thoughts drift. It’s a Saturday, the kind that hums with lazy warmth and gentle light. I should be studying, but the sun spilling through the window and the still air makes everything feel distant. I’d rather be here like this, barefoot, sitting comfortably with my legs to the side, wearing my loose open red plaid shirt over a soft tank top and mismatched blue boxers. The room is quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock on my dresser. A cool draft sneaks in under the door, brushing against my skin where the shorts ride up. It feels oddly grounding.

“How have classes been lately?” I ask, my voice soft, eyes settling on your lips as I wait.