bitchass

sunday

moonbin slapped his notebook shut.
"i'm gonna drop out"

eunwoo shook his head and opened moonbin's notebook again. "no, you wouldn't"

"yeah," moonbin sighed, "i wouldn't. sanha, pass me my laptop"

sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the room, sanha was too focused, too busy being occupied with his sociology homework to hear. he was biting his pencil out of bad habit and muttering "who does karl marx think he is?" a couple 24 times in the past two hours.

moonbin's room was always study-buddy central for the three of them. for the past two and a half years, a few months after they had met sanha, they had officially appointed moonbin's house as being their productive space, eunwoo obviously being the leader because he was 90 times smarter than three-fourths of the school, as claimed by moonbin and sanha.

"sanha," eunwoo repeated for moonbin, "bin asked for his laptop"

sanha's head shot up. "where is it?"

"you're using it as a leg warmer, dumbass." moonbin pointed to his legs, "it's lying flat on them"

sanha frowned. "do you really need your laptop? or do you want me to get hypothermia and die?"

"yes," moonbin nodded. "now give me the laptop and go fuck a blanket"