"Hey, what time is it?"
Jisoo looked at me sideways. "5:31."
"So you've got an hour and a half left."
"Yep." She grabbed my shirt without warning, pulled, and leaned forward until her forehead pressed flat against mine, close enough that I had to consciously remember how to breathe normally. "And before that happens— boundaries. Remember. I remember everything the other me does, so I swear, Si Hon—"
"I know," I said. "I know."
She held there for a second longer, like she wanted to make sure the message had physically transferred through the forehead contact, then let go.
We made our way back to the rooftop, and I watched with genuine curiosity as Jisoo crouched over MY mattress she'd somehow stole earlier and activated something— a thin frost spreading from her hands across the surface, stiffening it, and then she was folding it like a piece of paper, compact and neat, and sliding it into the bag like it weighed nothing.
I stared at the bag. Then at where my mattress had been.
