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Their beds can’t be pushed together, can’t be single beds made into a queen. Not in the dorms. Instead, Sua takes a bed which isn’t marked as hers—a bed with sheets that aren’t her favorite color, a bedside table cluttered with makeup and jewelry and unused phone cases. Everyone knows that their unnie is a bed stealer and each time, it’s Rami’s bed. Every time she’s asked about it, Sua has a new excuse, quietly thankful that all of the eldest girls share a room.
It’s too easy to lie, to say that she hit the wrong pillow, that she meant to move after removing her makeup.
Last night’s mascara is on today’s eyebags and her alarm wakes her up before someone else does.
She surveys Haram’s bedside table until she realizes it has nothing Sua needs. No mints or mirrored compact or makeup wipes. Sua is against the back of the bunk’s frame, more and more uncomfortable the longer she lays awake, and has to pry Haram’s arms off of her. It isn’t always part of the routine but Sua usually gives up—does it ungently to wake up Haram or falls back asleep since it’s all ruined, anyway.
Her resolve is better this morning.
The trip to the bathroom is quick and she passes no one on the way back into the bedroom. When everyone else is awake, she’ll have to pretend that she got up later, brought into the rush where everyone needs to shower and get made up before practice. But she’s thinking too far ahead, excuses for everyone else always getting in the way of thinking of her girlfriend.
She slips back underneath the covers, tracing shapes on Rami’s cheeks.
XO. XO. with the pad of her fingers. A cluster of stars and hearts with a dull fingernail, the skin of Haram's cheeks reddening slightly underneath Sua's fingers.
“Notice me yet?” Sua whispers it into the room, hand laid flat against the cheek with star lines. She feels her palms getting sweaty, becoming the version of herself that she’s been staving off all morning—Sua isn’t a romantic, can’t believe that she’s doing this. She rubs her sweaty palms on the fabric of her pajama shorts.
Before she loses all her resolve, she plants a kiss on Haram’s cheek, the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth.
“Sleeping beauty, aren’t you awake yet?” Sua wraps her arms against Haram’s middle, bringing her closer. “Where’s my kiss? I can see you, you know! You’re keeping your eyes closed and that’s not fair. Are you mad that I’m prepared and you have morning breath?”
Haram’s laugh is scratchy, over-loud. “Come closer, it’s my turn.”
She follows the pattern that Sua did: cheek, tip of her nose, corner of her mouth. And the one Sua wouldn’t do unless Haram’s eyes were fully open: square in the middle of her lips, too quickly.
“Morning to you, too. How long did it take you to warm up for that?”
Sua doesn't reply.