I sit as far from her as possible, hoping the physical distance will also push away this conversation. No such luck. Yuyu's eyes glint with the curiosity of someone who just found her favorite new drama. She leans forward, elbows on knees, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"So…" she says slowly, "how does it feel?"
I blink. "How does what feel?"
She wiggles her eyebrows. "You know. Living with him."
I exhale in relief—oh thank god, she doesn't mean what I thought—until she adds, "Like… waking up next to him every morning. Sharing the same bed. Seeing him walk around shirtless like that…" Her voice trails off, and she fans herself dramatically. "Girl, I would've fainted."
I nearly choke on air. "IT'S NOT LIKE THAT."
Yuyu smirks. "Then what's it like?"
I drag my hands down my face. "It's… it's like living with a very handsome, very dumb puppy who eats too much ramen and has zero sense of personal space."
She bursts out laughing. "Sounds amazing."
