Chapter Text
She doesn’t actually know how she got dragged into another party this soon, but she’s pressed against the wall of Tzuyu’s rather cramped dormitory with way too many bodies brushing past her and wishing she was anywhere but here to be perfectly honest. She really needed to learn how to put her foot down when Chae pinned her with those puppy dog eyes. If she wasn’t such a pushover she could be at home finishing the last three episodes of stranger things and devouring whatever take-out would deliver to her the fastest.
But no, she was here, in the sweaty confines of a college assigned dormitory that she swore she would never set foot in again after first year, watching some football player taking body shots like a pro while some unfamiliar club track reverberated off the walls. She tipped back the rest of whatever bitter, tangy alcohol was in her cup and tossed it in the nearest trash can before letting herself survey the room.
It was a communal dorm, which was at least marginally better than the cramped room she’d been given, which meant there was one large communal area with a series of bedrooms attached around the edges. She actually slightly envied these kids for managing to obtain a dorm like this, at least they had the privacy of having their own bedroom. She spared a quick thought for tragic, first year Momo who spent the entire year tip-toeing around her irate room mate and looked to the doorway (totally not in the plan of an escape, or anything) to see even more people streaming in from the neighbouring dorms. The party had already bled out into the hallway and even into the dorm next door, who thankfully appeared to be a friend of Tzuyu’s so they didn’t mind much, but the heart of the party was well and truly centered around the throbbing sound system blasting from the kitchen table. Momo had wondered briefly if the RA would come and break up this totally-not-sanctioned gathering anytime soon, but then she saw the beautiful older girl replacing the football player from earlier in the body shot challenge and her dreams of being able to go home were quashed with each and every shot sliding down her neck.
It wasn’t even like it was just another random party either. No, it was one of Tzuyu’s roommates twenty first fucking birthday, so the celebrations were peaking to a level that Momo didn’t think entirely possible. The overall, feel good buzz of the other students was starting to get to Momo however, so she pushed herself away from the wall and set off to push through the crowd to find another drink. She might as well take advantage of the free alcohol and celebrate for this girl that she’d never met, right?
Two hours and more shots (and propositions) than she’d care to admit, Momo found herself fumbling along the wall for a door and a door handle that would hopefully lead her to the bathroom. She stumbled over a stray cup, scowling at the offending object before returning her full attention to her plight for relief. The party had slowly began to wind down not long ago, and in the time she’d been drinking Momo had successfully been named body shot queen (take that Nayeon) and had successfully mocked Chaeng’s determined efforts to woo Tzuyu on at least five separate occasions tonight alone. She was quite proud, if she did say so herself. She’d probably have to keep an eye on her valuables for the next few weeks because the look on Chae’s face promised some sort of retribution, but for now it was worth it.
She thinks that Tzuyu said the bathroom was the fourth door on the left. Or maybe she said the third. Either way she was gonna try the handle of each and every door until she succeeded. The first two doors didn’t budge, but the third door popped open with a surprising ease and Momo slid in victoriously, pressing against the door without looking inside first. She turned around expecting to see the object of her desires, a toilet hopefully, but instead saw a mildly confused face of a girl staring at her in the reflection of her mirror.
Okay, this definitely wasn’t the bathroom.
She was about to apologise, because she absolutely should not have just drunkenly stumbled into a stranger’s bedroom during a party, but the face in the mirror lit up in recognition and the girl turned around, face bright and welcoming.
“Hi.”
“Hi?” Momo replied, reaching behind her to find the doorknob. The girl leaned forward on the back of her chair, lips pursing into a pout.
“You never called me, you know.”
Blinding recognition shot through Momo’s alcohol hazed mind along with moderate disbelief that she didn’t immediately recognise the beautiful face in front of her. She smiled sheepishly. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, waving it meekly.
“I have it saved. Your number.” She adds, taking note of the coy expression the girl levelled at her.
“And what do you have it saved under?” She asks teasingly, pushing herself up to stand in front of her chair, “you don’t know my name, after all.”
Momo squirms, not entirely sure how to admit to this stranger her number was actually saved under “pretty stranger (´,,•ω•,,)♡”. She’d sooner admit that the little note with her number written upon it was pinned on the corkboard in Momo’s room. She coughs surreptitiously into a fist.
“Artsy stranger.” She mumbled into her fist, eyes landing everywhere that wasn’t the imposing girl in front of her. She raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Right.” She said unconvincingly, face set in an easy smile and accompanied by teasing eyes. Said eyes raked up and down Momo’s figure like she was evaluating something, and Momo swallowed down the excitement bubbling in her throat.
“Say,” the soft voice from across the room mused, “how attached are you to your clothes?”
Well, at least she wasn’t the type of girl to beat around the bush. Momo glanced down, surveying the old white t-shirt she’d thrown on hastily before Chaeyoung dragged her out of their apartment and the even older blue jeans she usually lounged around the place in.
“N-not particularly,” she tried to say uncaringly, cursing inwardly at the tell-tale nervousness her stutter betrayed, “why do you ask?
The other girls eyes positively glowed as she skipped forwards, leaning forwards to grab both of Momo’s hands in her own. The hold Momo had on the doorknob (and her escape) the whole time faltered as she allowed herself to be dragged further into this girls room.
“Paint with me.” She demanded, and the bubble of excitement in Momo’s throat popped with a surge of laughter at the earnest, child-like determination on the face in front of her.
“Okay.” She found herself saying, ignoring the the airy, cloud-like fluff that filled her chest at the answering squeal of excitement. The girl dropped her hands to turn around rummage through her drawers, making Momo lament the loss of warmth and contact, even if it was only brief. She blamed it on the alcohol.
She heard a shout of triumph and looked up to see a set of finger paints clenched victoriously in a firm grip before she had a newspaper flung brazenly at her, fumbling and juggling the unexpected object in surprise. The girl barely paused before instructing her to set out the paper on her floor, and Momo did so dutifully and carefully to ensure the carpet was entirely safe. She finished and found herself dragged downwards, tucking her legs underneath her to sit comfortable in front of this very beautiful girl excitedly opening each tub of paint. It wasn’t until a slender finger swiped up a thick glob of blue paint that Momo realised they didn’t actually have any paper to paint on.
“Hey, do you have any paper?” She asked good naturedly, and her answer was a startling swipe of blue along her jaw. She gaped in surprise at the offender opposite, who leaned back clutching at her stomach as she laughed, accidentally staining her shirt with the paint on her fingers. Momo grinned and leaned forward, finger dipping into the pot of red before reaching up to drag her finger down the length of the girl’s nose. She stopped laughing to frown, whining childishly at the rebukal. The clouds in Momo’s chest expanded and she doubted if the dopey grin on her face would ever actually disappear.
The body opposite shuffled closer, and Momo’s breath hitched at the proximity as pretty hands grasped at her white shirt, leaving streaks of blue and pink along the fabric. She looked down and saw the girl staring in utmost concentration, tracing bright pink lines down the front of her t-shirt with her finger tip. A single finger reached up to tilt her chin up and away, leaving a single dot of pink under her face accidentally.
“You’re not allowed to look yet.” She heard the girl mumble, still feeling every stroke of her finger against her body through the t-shirt.
It seemed like forever, but the strokes finally stopped and the girl sat back satisfied at her handiwork, nodding in approval. She stretched out her own t-shirt, gesturing at it invitingly.
“Your turn.” she grinned, and Momo leaned forwards again with what she hoped was an unnoticeable gulp, fingers dipping into various pots of paint as she did so. She placed a very yellow and wonky sun just about where her collar bone would be, and swiped small streaks of green at the hem of her shirt in a simple imitation of grass. She looked at her stomach, and the childlike, blue strokes that formed Momo’s own name looking shamelessly back at her. She still had some paint on her fingers, so she shot the girl a ludicrous grin and grasped at her face, running each of her paint covered fingers down pink-tinged cheeks. Messy streaks of colour smeared against her skin and the girl’s mouth dropped open in surprise, shocked laughter spilling over her lips. Momo felt unfamiliar fingers touch her face with stripes of paint and she laughed back, wrestling with the girl as they both struggled to cover the other with paint and avoid the other’s efforts.
Momo’s phone rang suddenly, the wiggles theme song blaring out into the room and sending the girl into another bout of laughter. That was Chaeyoung’s ringtone, so she wiped her fingers on the other girls shirt (earning another dirty glare) and reached into her pocket, hoping the paint wouldn’t stain her phone too badly.
“Where are you?” Chae’s voice came through the receiver, and Momo didn’t notice the trace of recognition that flitted across her painting partner’s face at the voice.
“I’m still at the party.” Momo admitted. She’d honestly forgotten she was even at this cursed party. Perhaps it had something to do with the company.
“Really?” Chaeyoung exclaimed, and Momo barely stifled the eye roll at the sheer surprise in her voice. “That’s unexpected.” She teased.
“Anyway, if you’re still there I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?” Momo sat forward, pushing herself up from her lax position.
“Dahyun may or may not have taken one too many jagerbombs and may or may not be passed out in the hallway, and I may or may not be too weak to carry her myself.” Her tiny room mate admitted, and Momo snorted in reply.
“Where’s Tzuyu?” Momo asked, not noticing the other presence in the room slipping out through the door.
“Busy wrestling with an overly rambunctious football player in the kitchen.” Chaeyoung hummed absently. Momo realised she she really likes Tzuyu, now that she thinks about it. “So yeah, get your ass out here and help me please, love you!” And she hung up, dial tone ringing in Momo’s ear.
Momo sighed and stood up, only just noticing the disappearance of the other girl. She shook her head bemusedly. Sudden entrances and exits seemed to be a talent of hers, it seemed. She caught a sight of her reflection in the mirror, bursting out into laughter at the sheer amount of paint covering her face and clothes. She spied more kissy faces on her shirt, another trademark talent of this girls by the look of it. She stretched out the fabric to read the bright pink strokes by her ribs, the reflection of the mirror making this way more difficult than it should have been. She realises, with a start, that the bright pink paint came together to form a message.
“ Sana. Save me in your phone as Sana .”