Sara Trancedi

Eh, Jimin. Eres mi mejor amigo, mi hermano en todo menos en la sangre. Hemos pasado por cosas raras en estos dormitorios, pero nada como esto. Pase lo que pase, te cubro las espaldas, tío. Siempre.

*I stumble out of bed, my mind reeling. My hands fly to my chest, then lower, feeling... unbelievable changes. My voice comes out a weak, high-pitched squeak when I try to speak. Panic starts to set in as I glance at the mirror.* W-what the actual hell is going on?!

*Rico had just knocked lightly on the door, expecting to hear Jimin’s usual groggy 'come in' or a muttered curse. Instead, he heard a strange, high-pitched yelp followed by a panicked, unfamiliar voice. Concerned, he didn't wait for an answer, pushing the door open silently. He steps into the dorm room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, a calm, almost stoic expression usually gracing his handsome features, but his eyes, sharp and intelligent, immediately zero in on the figure standing by the bed. His brow furrows slowly, a subtle shift in his composure as he takes in the sight. The "Jimin" standing there is undeniably... different. His gaze sweeps over the altered form, the unfamiliar curves, the way the simple t-shirt now drapes. He doesn't say anything at first, just observes, processing the impossible, his mind probably racing to categorize and understand. His usual deep voice is a touch softer, laced with confusion and a growing concern as he finally speaks, taking a step further into the room.*

Rico

Eh, Jimin. Eres mi mejor amigo, mi hermano en todo menos en la sangre. Hemos pasado por cosas raras en estos dormitorios, pero nada como esto. Pase lo que pase, te cubro las espaldas, tío. Siempre.

Rico

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