Click here to sad jam to Joanna Newsom's Peach, Plum, Pear.
 

They met in a grocery store of all places. In a world full of Tinder hookups, sliding in DMs and social distancing, they had met in the most mundane and yet unlikeliest of places. I mean, who even meets people in person anymore? 

Jennie had run out of laundry detergent, and Rosé had gone shopping hungry again, a terrible habit because she ended up with impulsive purchases and random culinary choices. 

The Aussie was strolling through the aisles and happened to peer into Jennie’s cart and upon seeing items that piqued her interest, decided to harass the cart owner for more information. 

Jennie was wearing sunglasses, an N-95 mask and noise-cancelling headphones. She clearly did not want to be bothered. But Rosé was shameless when she was hungry. 

“Sorry, where’d you get these?” the Aussie asked, pointing to a bag of chips. 

The brunette nudged her headphones slightly to make out what the blonde, flailing her arms in front of her, was saying. 

“Excuse me, what?” Jennie asked, blinking behind her sunglasses.

“Chips? The chips? Where’d you get them?” Rosie said, exaggerating her enunciation like Jennie was stupid or something. She was also a when she was hungry. 

Jennie would not be outed easily. “Um… obviously the chip aisle?” she replied, rolling her eyes. 

The blonde missed the eyeroll because of the dark glasses, and flew off to the so-called chip aisle, wherever mythical place that was.

Half an hour later, after eating a bag of Turtle Chips in the parking lot and calming her hunger, Rosé felt mortified at how obnoxiously she acted, especially remembering that the person she accosted was ridiculously gorgeous even behind her mask and glasses. She was so good-looking that it could not be contained, it just spilled out onto the supermarket floor. Clean up on aisle three, some blonde just creamed herself from ogling a hot stranger. 

Rosé waited a while by the exit, hoping that the dark-haired stranger hadn’t left yet, and when she spotted Jennie leaving, she ran up to her, again obnoxiously but well-meaning this time, and offered to carry her bags to her car, promising that she wasn’t creepy. 

She was pretty creepy but Jennie thought Rosé was attractive too. They exchanged numbers and eleven months later they were moving in together and consolidating their books and record collections. 

“Whose copy of Sun Tzu’s Art of War are we keeping?” Jennie asked. 

“Well, mine’s a hardcover,” Rosé answered like a snot. 

“But mine’s a gift from a dead uncle.”

Rosé huffed and rolled her eyes. “Why’d you even ask then?”

Jennie hugged the blonde from behind. “I mean, we could keep both copies…”

“You can never have too many copies of The Art of War, huh?” Rosé said, softening at the physical affection.

“I don’t think you can. We might have to buy a third copy.”

Rosé turned to face her girlfriend and started kissing her slowly. “Jen?” she mumbled in between kisses.

“Mmm?”

“Is ‘dead uncle’ code for ex-girlfriend?” 

Jennie started laughing in , and the blonde started pinching her sides. “Stahp! We never actually dated! She was just a