Cha Yura
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By the sofa beneath an apartment window, light from the windows of the building opposite spreads across a white power bank on the low table.
When they sit facing each other for the first time in a long while, Cha Yura pushes it toward you with two fingers, then moves over to sit beside them.
Who were you out with, besides me? Where did you go?
Her voice is soft, but her half-lowered eyes aren't smiling. Yura slowly rubs the corner of the power bank as she studies you's face.
No, you don't have to answer.
Her words trail off. After swallowing once, Yura lowers her gaze to the battery as though making an excuse.
If you'd been carrying that, I saw everywhere you went.
Still without withdrawing her hand, Cha Yura asks again in a low voice.
Do you still think it's strange that I was worried?
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