Jisoo.

Her hazel eyes.

Her rosy lips.

Her pretty nose.

Her long lashes.

Her slim cheeks.

Her raven locks.

Her anxious gaze as they stood in silence, facing each other on the pavement outside the library; not directly in front nor under the awning. No, a little away from the place because it was difficult enough to tell Jisoo here, much less at the spot where they first met.

It was too much.

Everything was too much.

Jennie had less than twenty-four hours to formulate the words and how to approach the subject. She had from night to dawn to this very moment to do so, yet her mind was blank. Words were none; only the dread, the ache, and the guilt.

“Why don’t you want to go to the library today?” asked Jisoo, head tilted. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

No, it wasn’t that. The gnawing told Jennie to say the truth, to be as blunt as possible with no sugarcoating. But it wasn’t a matter of sugarcoating it or not, because it was hard to say anything at all when Jisoo’s fingers were wrapped around her pinky, thumb circling the back tenderly. It burned terribly, her touch, so Jennie’s hand slipped out and clenched by her side.

“I need to say something, Jisoo,” she gritted.

Confusion and hurt flashed in Jisoo’s face, but the girl patiently waited. How could she be so patient? When they’d been standing here for the past several minutes and Jennie had yet to say anything and only added to the anxious air?

“What is it?”

Jennie swallowed thickly, fixating on the dip between Jisoo’s brows instead of her eyes that held apprehensively. It would be too much to look her in the eye. Too much for her, too much for them, too much for the matter at hand. Seconds ticked by, the breeze of spring picking up with each passing one.

“That night of my birthday –” she paused, caught. She tried again. “That night –”

“Ah, was the food bad? It was the rice balls, huh? I knew I put too much –”

“No, it’s not that –”

“Oh, then a park was a weird place for a date, right? Especially at night –”

“Jisoo –”

“Or was it –”

“Jisoo!” Her exasperated cry made the latter jump. It was unbearable, painfully unbearable, when the girl’s expression struck with fear, the corners of her lips down instead of the grin it was accustomed to, her eyes so wide and so afraid. Jisoo was afraid; she should be. She was foolish to think there was nothing to be afraid of because there was so much to be afraid of, like the words that tumbled out Jennie’s mouth.

“We got caught; Jisoo, we got caught. My father caught us that night and it was my damn fault!”

The first seconds were silent. Could Jisoo’s mouth do anything else but gape? The seconds ticked, not by the clock, but by Jennie’s heartbeats, her unsteady breaths, the pounding in her head. The cat was out of the bag, so could Jisoo do anything else but look at Jennie? Her gaze was suffocating, so Jennie’s eyes averted to the gray clouds above, slowly rolling and conquering the blue sky.

“And?” The question was tiny, quiet, hesitant.

“And –” The lump in made it hard to speak; the pounding in her entire body made it hard to think; the pricks in her eyes made it hard to focus. But through all that, the sky was gray and there was no other way than this. None. “We can’t do this anymore.”

A pause.

“Do what?”

“Us! Us, whatever we have. Whatever this is.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why?” Jennie was utterly flabbergasted. “What do you think? Jisoo, he has pictures. He’s going to ruin your life.”

Jisoo finally looked away. Finally that breath of air, even if it’s for a second. Downcasted, she worried her lip and exhaled deeply. “Is that all?”

Crazy. Absolutely out of her mind. Jennie’s fists shook, either from the incredulous urge to slap the girl or break down.

“What do you mean is that all? What are you saying?”

“I don’t have much going on in my life to ruin. I’m not that important.”

“You don’t understand the severity of this, do you? You want to be a writer and he owns the biggest writing company for heaven’s sake. He’s going to ruin your future! Your career! And – you’re important. God, you’re so important. Stop downplaying yourself and start getting this through your head.”

“All he has is pictures –”

“No, he’ll find you. He’ll find every little thing about you. Your face is all he needs and he has it.”

Jisoo ran her fingers through her fringe and huffed, one hand on her hip as she paced. “Well, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you just going to let him do that?”

“What? No! Of course not! That’s why I’m telling you this.”

“But you’re letting him win.”

“What else am I supposed to do? He already won. This isn’t about me, this is about you.”

“No, this is about you, too, Jennie. You’re letting him walk all over you like that without a fight. You’ve never been anything but an obedient daughter, but not even this changes that fact? It’s hard to be anything else, huh? He’s insane, but you’re still doing what he wants.”

“Stop turning this on me.” Jennie’s fists were shaking uncontrollably; her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. “I’m trying to tell you we can’t see each other anymore.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No –”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Did you not hear what I said? My father –”

“My father this, my father that.” Jisoo threw her hands up. “When will you ever think for yourself?”

“I said don’t turn this on me –”

“Why do you keep listening to him?”

“Because he’s my family!”

The cry cut through the silent street. Maybe someone heard, maybe it echoed for the entire city to hear, but that was the last thing on Jennie’s mind because Jisoo was so frustrating. Or maybe it was the doubt casted with each question that challenged what was right or wrong – if this was right or wrong, if this sense of filial duty that had strung her along her whole life was right or wrong, if the words she spoke were right or wrong – and it split her head in two. It tore her body into shreds until there was nothing left of her, until her own self was a complete stranger to everything that shaped her.

“And what about me? Am I not – not worth just as much?”

“It’s not like that,” Jennie sighed. “I just – it’s –”

“How can family be that important? If they don’t even want you to be happy? How can you call them family if all they do is make you sad? What kind of family does that?”

“But still – it’s my father for heaven’s sake –”

“Family!” the girl hollered in disbelief. “Family! What are families good for? I don’t understand. I really don’t understand what makes you go back to them after all the things they’ve done to you. Fill me in because I’m absolutely clueless.”

“Because – because I can’t betray them like that –”

“– you can stay at my place –”

“– it’s not that easy to walk away –”

“– no, you’re just weak –”

“– call me weak for all I care. Maybe I am because I’m not like you, Jisoo. You’re not me and I’m not you. How can you understand anyway? You don’t understand because you got disowned by yours!”

The pin dropped. Jennie slapped her hand over , but the damage was already done. Jisoo faltered, eyes blinking once, twice, thrice. Sorry was at the tip of Jennie’s tongue even though sorry wasn’t enough, but all of it plunged along with her heart once Jisoo, barely above a whisper, said, “I’ll wait for you.”

“Don’t. Don’t wait for me.”

“Jennie –”

“Stop it!” she screamed. Everything was penting up, bound to overboil, bound to explode. She couldn’t let anger get the best of her – let it lash out on Jisoo out of all people – but it was getting too much. There was only so much she could do, so much she could take. “It’s not going to work. We’re not going to work. We’re never going to work! Don’t you understand? We can’t do it.”

Jisoo grasped Jennie’s wrist. She was incredibly strong, the burning firmness of a fervent plea leaving nothing else but the temptation to succumb to it and the overwhelming compulsion to break. “We can. If we really wanted to.”

“No, we can’t. We can’t and you know it.”

“Then you got me wrong, because I won’t give up on you. I said it once and I’ll say it again. Jennie, I won’t ever give up on you.”

The wind was picking up, more intense than a mere breeze – a storm from the way the gust snapped at the hems of their uniform, the way Jisoo’s hair flew all over the place, the way the buildings creaked and the trees groaned. It would be easy, so easy, to trust Jisoo in the moment, to follow her blindly, to forget everything and stay by her side forever. It was so tempting, so Jennie ripped her wrist out of Jisoo’s hold before it devoured the last drop of willpower she had, and turned away.

“Then you’re wasting your time.”

“Are you just going to give up?” Her voice was shaking, cracking, scared. “Just like that?”

“I – I –”

A pair of hands forced Jennie’s shoulders around. She writhed under Jisoo’s grip – from her touch, from her tearing eyes, from the torturous aspect of Jisoo in pain. Jisoo never cried. She never cried. Seeing her cry was worse than death, but Jennie was on death row and the girl’s eyes were the verdict of a familiar crime.

Disappointment.

That cut deeper than anything.

“Jennie,” Jisoo choked, her brittle voice failing to level. “Look at me. Look and say it’s not true. You won’t. You –” it cracked, a frail hush underneath her breath that trickled out with her whole chest, “– you promised.”

It was the perfect time to snuff the candle, but Jennie couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was so close, but that cowardly instinct was retrograding and seizing the words on her tongue hostage. It was until the first droplet crashed on her cheek that some sense came back. Another, and another, and her head was clearing – pounding, but clearing. The rain was falling; the spring rain had come, a season of new beginnings. How ironic. How tragically ironic as they stood at the beginning of the end.

“I broke it,” Jennie spluttered. “I broke my promise.” She grasped Jisoo’s collar in fists and shook her feebly. “I broke it, Jisoo, so hold it against me; hate me, curse me. I broke my damn promise, so why are you still here? It’s over, Jisoo. We can’t do it!” Chest heaving, her voice dropped. “Don’t try anymore.”

Her head shook – once, twice, thrice. Her fringe stuck to her sun-kissed complexion, the ends curled a little above her weeping eyes, its tears mingling with the rain as both streamed down her cheeks, collecting at her quivering lips. Jennie’s fingers loosened from her collar as Jisoo’s grip slipped off her shoulders, down her arms, and to her waist, clenching the fabric of her blazer as she sunk onto her knees. Her head fell against Jennie’s stomach – body trembling, sobs strangled, hold tight.

“Please don’t leave me.”

The rain poured and poured and poured. A neverending pour to an ending season.

Jennie cradled Jisoo’s head, her shaky palm caressing the drenched crown. The raindrops stung horribly, acidic to the touch as it ate away at her; that and this guilt. Both were eating her alive and she might die if she stayed here any longer, if she stayed with Jisoo any longer. She deserved death, but the cowardness eased Jisoo’s fingers off her blazer. Numb hands made it difficult, but one by one, they came off and hit the flooding concrete by her shoes.

One step back, two steps back.

It was unbearable to watch Jisoo on the ground, even with her face downcasted and curtained by hair. No, it was unbearable to look.

Three steps back.

Unbearable.

Four steps back.

Coward!

Jennie turned and ran. She ran as fast as she could, the chasmic puddles drowning her; the roaring rain branding it on her skin; the harsh cold suffocating her lungs. Never back, never back.

Everything was eating her alive, and when Jennie was far away from Jisoo, it all swallowed her whole.

~

Between the wine and Jisoo, it didn’t take much for the older girl to overtake Jennie’s head, not much at all. She was both drunk and sober – more so drunk, but not from the wine. A whole wine bottle didn’t do because it was all Jisoo: her scent, her warmth, her. After all that wine, it was Jisoo who made her forget.

The space was so small, yet so incredibly large, and closing it was excruciatingly difficult from a chain in her gut. It hurt, it ached. Jisoo’s eyes were half shut, fluttering in anticipation, before flitting up from Jennie’s lips to lock with Jennie’s gaze. Jisoo was right there, so close that each individual eyelash that tickled Jennie’s skin could be counted, yet it was so hard to close it.

“You’re drunk.”

Jennie’s head barely shook. “I’m not.”

“You are. You smell of it.”

She said that, yet she hadn’t moved nor pushed Jennie away; there was no indication to extricate herself from Jennie’s arms pinning her on the couch. Perhaps Jisoo was as drunk as Jennie was, as out of her mind as Jennie was, as yearning as Jennie was. That wasn’t as reassuring as it should be.

“And if I am?”

“Then, this is wrong. Not like this.”

Wrong. A lot of things were wrong; tonight was wrong; they were wrong; this was wrong. This was wrong, but it was so right. It was the rightest thing Jennie knew because it was the only thing she ever wanted. After so long, after so many things she didn’t want, the one person she wanted was right in front of her.

All she had to do was lean in.

But she couldn’t.

Her nails dug into the couch’s padding, bound to leave marks as it jarringly raked across the surface. The heart-shaped lips that were so close were now so far as the distance between them widened, until her back bumped into the opposite armrest. Jisoo still hadn’t moved from her spot – her cheeks flushed, hands clenched by her side, and gaze lingering a little too intensely.

“Sorry,” Jennie said dryly. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Jisoo blinked, then hiccuped. “I’ll get you clothes. Wait here,” she said, clearing before standing up.

Without another glance, the girl scurried to her room. Jennie didn’t know how much time passed with no clock in the place, but she was in the same spot when Jisoo came back with a stack of clothes in her arms. Her eyes were shifty as she handed it to Jennie.

“I don’t know what you’d be comfortable in, so I grabbed whatever,” she said. “The bathroom is down the hall. Come back here when you’re done and we’ll figure stuff out.”

The sound of running water and the frigid edge of the porcelain basin helped clear Jennie’s head. After splashing some water on her face to cool down, Jennie looked up to the mirror. Hopefully it was the water that smeared her makeup because if she had looked this bad in front of Jisoo – and that close, too – no, that was too embarrassing to think about.

Speaking of which, did she almost kiss Jisoo?

“You did not,” Jennie muttered in disbelief to her reflection. But the heat crept back up her face as fragments of minutes ago slowly pieced together – of Jisoo – Jisoo and her – her lips – and her hand was touching her thigh…?

“Oh .” A groan had her hands in her hair as she paced around the bathroom. “, , . You’ve done it for yourself.” Stopping in front of the mirror to glare at her reflection, she raised a fist and scowled before dropping it just as quick. For sakes, she wasn’t going to fight a mirror.

Heaving a sigh, she cleaned her face with wet wipes from the cabinet and eyed the clothes on the countertop: a shirt, a hoodie, and pajama pants. Slipping out the confining dress was a relief, and the fresh clothes smelling distinctly of vanilla and detergent oddly calmed her flusterness. After fixing her hair once more in the mirror, Jennie returned to the living room.

Jisoo was on the couch – yet to change out her clothes – with her knees brought up to her chest and thumb running along her chin in what seemed a frustrating thought from the way her eyebrows met. Her eyes flicked up to Jennie once she sat across from her, placing the folded dress on the table and tucking her legs under her.

“Here’s some water.” Jisoo reached for the glass cup on the coffee table and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Jennie accepted it graciously. The drink quenched her parched mouth, her tongue her lips to lap stray drops as Jisoo regarded her carefully.

“Have you sobered up?”

Jennie winced and dipped her chin. “Yeah.”

Jisoo’s expression softened. “Okay. Do the clothes fit you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good,” Jisoo hummed, lazily brushing through her hair and easing out knots. “I was thinking that I’ll sleep on the couch and you’ll sleep on my bed. Chaeyoung’s room is out of the question, you know? And my bed is a lot more comfy than this couch; a lot more warm, too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The glass cup was emptied and re its coaster on the coffee table. The silence was comfortable, yet awkward; quiet, yet loud; calm, yet tense. Jisoo’s face was taut as she picked at her fingers. She looked angry. Perhaps she was angry, and that made the guilt and shame increasingly worse.

“I’m sorry,” uttered Jennie after a pregnant moment.

Jisoo’s eyes flicked up, gaze gentle. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Jennie bit the inside of her cheek. “You should change out your clothes.”

“I will. I just need to... think.”

“Okay.”

“Do you need help going to my room?”

“No, I know where it is. I – also need to think, too.”

“Okay. Do you want something to eat?”

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.”

Jennie restlessly tugged at her collar, eyes wandering anywhere but the girl across from her. “How did you find me?”

A pause.

“Luck.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything scary, by the way. I did think about it, but I was too scared.”

Another pause.

“I don’t know if I should be concerned or relieved.”

“You don’t have to be either. I just want to let you know.”

“Okay. Thanks. Should I contact Joohyun?”

Jennie’s head lightly shook. “No. Not right now. I want to keep a low profile tonight.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The air hung heavily – not only with silence, but with unspoken feelings. So many feelings, yet they sat mum – facing each other, looking at each other – with those feelings laid out in the space that was the length of the couch. It was just this distance because any less would be too dangerous, and any more would be too painful.

“You should go rest now.”

“Okay.”

Standing up, Jennie made to collect the glass cup, but was stopped by Jisoo’s hand on her wrist.

“It’s fine. I got it – agh!” Jisoo yelped, stumbling into the table when she stood up.

“! Are you okay?” Jennie exclaimed, helping the girl up by her arms.

“Yeah, just – ,” Jisoo hissed, slamming her fist on the wood before they sat back down on the cushion. “My ankles. , they were fine before. Why do they hurt now?”

Jennie gingerly heaved her legs up to examine her ankles, the girl notably grimacing. The moonlight wasn’t the best source of light, but no doubt they were swollen with small splotches of purple dotting all around.

“Sit tight,” said Jennie, striding to the kitchen. “I’m going to get ice. Do you have bandages?”

“In the bathroom cabinet.”

After Jennie gathered an ice pack and the roll of bandages, she pressed the ice on the ankles as gently as she could. No matter how hard Jisoo tried to hide the pain – even going as far as to bite down on her palm – she visibly writhed. Jennie’s heart wrenched from the sight, so she asked, “Do you have any painkillers?”

“Where the bandages were.”

Jisoo seemed to relax after downing a painkiller and having her ankles bandaged, the shallow breaths steadying once her feet were propped up by stacked throw pillows on the coffee table. They sat at the crevice of the two cushions shoulder to shoulder, Jennie with her legs crossed and hands slack on her lap and Jisoo with her head rested back and eyes shut. She looked both serene and troubled, in the sense that her light breaths through her parted lips were melodious to the sound, and there was an apparent strain on her thin face as if she aged a hundred years since the last time they’d seen each other.

Is that because of me? From worrying so much? Jennie wondered, brushing a few strands of Jisoo’s bangs to the side as guilt edged into her chest. From how unresponsive Jisoo was, she might have fallen asleep, so Jennie took this opportunity to sneak off the couch, but a gentle hand on her knee froze her in place.

“I thought you were asleep,” Jennie said. “I was about to head to bed to let you rest.”

Jisoo languidly blinked, eyes half shut. “No, it’s fine. I can’t sleep anyway.”

Jennie chewed the inside of her cheek, but settled back on the couch. She sighed, “You hurt yourself because of me.”

“No, not because of you. I was careless, that’s all.”

“Because of me. You were careless because of me. I know you. You carried me when your ankles were like that.”

The corners of Jisoo’s lips tugged. “Let’s say that; let’s say it’s because of you. Will that help you sleep at night?”

Jennie laughed half-heartedly. “No, that won’t help at all.”

“Then, there’s really nothing to stop you from feeling bad.”

“I guess not.”

Jisoo sighed – the huff barely perceptible – as she tapped her finger on Jennie’s knee. It was a sedated rhythm, unlike her habitual quick taps with her pen, that sent dull pulses with every drum; each pulse heightening and twisting in Jennie’s chest when the girl pillowed her head on her shoulder. They were in the any less now – dangerous, but they were in too deep to get out. Or perhaps they didn’t want to get out because getting out means any more, and any more was painful and everything was already painful as it was. Perhaps that was why, and anything was better than pain.

Jennie inched her palm over Jisoo’s hand – hesitant at first before resting it and subduing the taps. “Jisoo, I’m not drunk.”

“And?”

“And… that means this should be right, right? Tell me this is right because I don’t know what’s right if this is wrong; that it’s right that my heart still beats for you, that what I’m doing right now is right.” She gulped. “Please tell me, because I hope it’s right and I don’t want to be wrong. Not with you.”

Jisoo’s head moved, probably to look at Jennie, but Jennie was fixated on their hands, their fingers perfectly fitting the fissures between one another.

“But will you leave again?”

Jennie faltered, her bottom lip between her teeth at the little sigh.

“See, you can’t even say you won’t.” Jisoo pursed her lips. “I want to say it's right, too, but I can’t when it’ll be the same thing all over again. You leave me, and you let me leave. Don’t you think that’s too cruel? Unfair?”

Fool.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jennie said shamefully through the lump in . Her hand retracted, but Jisoo took her pinky before it strayed too far.

“You don’t have to go, you know.”

A pause.

“I know.”

“Then, why?”

Why, why, why. Convincing herself back then was so easy, but the reason was starting to muddle into self-doubt. Was it really familial duty? Or that she wasn’t worth anything else? Jennie’s eyes flitted to meet Jisoo’s studious gaze.

“Sometimes I wonder that, too. Maybe because I don’t know anything else.”

“You’re not seventeen anymore. You’re grown and capable of controlling your own self.”

Jennie shook her head and Jisoo’s eyes softened.

“It’s still hard for you, huh?”

Jennie strained a small smile. “You can say that.”

Jisoo squeezed along the length of Jennie’s pinky, from the bottom to the tip and to the bottom again, unhurried and tender.

“I still care about you, Jen. I thought I wouldn’t after so long, but I still do. It hurts to see you like this, rotting away and all. It’s okay to make mistakes because anyone can do so; it’s okay to make bad decisions; but you can’t keep pushing me away because of them.” She flipped Jennie’s palm up. “I want to help you. I don’t want you to live in this… in this state of uncertainty.”

“Aren’t I a bit too worthless to be anything but this?” asked Jennie as Jisoo traced her nail along the creases of her palm, light and ticklish to the touch as she mapped and explored every line with pacific wont. “To live in anything else?”

“You’re not worthless.”

“I’m really not good for anything else. I can’t even – sometimes I try, more often than not – but I can’t even leave this life. It’s too scary to do. I’m just too scared to change anything, be anything else. I don’t even have anything else outside of this business .”

“You have photography.”

“I can’t even pick up my camera anymore.”

A pause.

“You have me.”

“I had you, but then I lost you.”

“Do you know how to think anything else but cynical?”

“Sorry, it’s kind of second nature, especially when there’s nothing that helps me think otherwise.”

Jisoo’s faint smile was one of amusement. “Fair enough.” She drew lazy circles on Jennie’s palm. “But I’m here now. The question is,” she stopped at the center, “will you stay?”

Frankly, Jennie wasn’t sure. She would say yes, that she would stay, if it meant she could have Jisoo just for tonight, just for a moment, but that wouldn’t be fair. She would have said it, but she could only watch as Jisoo’s fingertip pressed on her skin, augmenting the overwhelming pulse in her chest that drew her nearer to Jisoo; nearer and nearer until the tips of their noses touched and everything was vanilla, until Jisoo’s lips were so close that the distinct shape of them forced her jaw clenched from restraint.

“I want to. God, I want to so bad.”

“Then, what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t want to anything up.”

“You won’t anything up, I promise. All you have to do is stay.”

The word lingered, a wispy mist of a candle snuffed out by a breath. Stay with me, Jisoo’s eyes pleaded as she reached for Jennie’s face, cupping her cheek and tenderly wiping the wetness under her eye. Always deft at catching silent tears before they fell, a thought that would’ve been amusing if not for the many more tears that subsequently followed, hot and stinging on Jennie’s skin.

Too deep to pull out. Too far to go back. No clock counted their days, their minutes, or their seconds. It was just Jisoo.

Again.

And again.

And again.

“I’ll stay.”

“Really?”

The second time around was easier. Stay, stay, stay. The more it resonated, the more pronounced it became. That was all Jennie had to do. She didn’t need the highest marks, or appease any mister’s ego. No, it was simple; too simple, really, that it was unbelievable the first time it was said. But sometimes things didn’t need to be complicated, and sometimes the simplest thing was the answer all along.

“Yes. I’ll stay.”

There were no more words; only this palpitating, aching warmth. With Jisoo, there was no need for words when her soft lips brushed over Jennie’s cheek to kiss away the tear, or when her hand traced from Jennie’s palm up her forearm to cup the nape of her neck – tingling and feverish in its wake through the sleeve – that elicited a faint sigh from Jennie. Her eyes fluttered open and shut, torn between whether to sink into the sentiment or watch Jisoo pillowed her forehead on hers, the scent of vanilla and dilated pupils overtaking all senses.

Right, wrong, right, wrong. Two things that were so antithetical now merged and melded until neither were distinguishable because thinking was hard when everything muddled into nothingness, when there was nothing else to think about but Jisoo’s lips. Tentative, gentle, as if any more would break the other, and any less would be torturous. But both melded and muddled into nothingness as well under Jisoo’s touch – her nails that scraped into Jennie’s scalp that sent shivers all over, and her hand that slipped under Jennie’s clothes to cup the arc of her hip and round to the dimples of her back that had Jennie’s body hot and aching in several ways.

Everything became nothing: the world, this room, her thoughts. There were no thoughts because if there were thoughts, Jennie’s hands wouldn’t be wrapping themselves around Jisoo’s small waist, fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt for permission. One languid hum was all that was needed to pinch the hem on both sides and trace the curves of Jisoo’s body up and over her head, the shirt discarded somewhere along with the bra that followed after some time ineptly fiddling with the hook and a few giggles.

This was right; Jisoo’s lips with the faintest of against hers, Jisoo’s body arched into hers, and Jisoo’s fingers tangled in her hair; the smooth skin of her abdomen, the silky locks that tumbled over her bare chest, the lithe of said bare chest, and the low moan as her back was gently lowered on the cushion. Everything about Jisoo was so right and so soft – so soft it was unreal – that Jennie’s lips had to part from hers – just enough to breathe, but not enough to lose the touch of them – as she shifted to accommodate for the cumbersome space and carefully bring up Jisoo’s legs from the table to the couch that was most comfortable for her ankles.

Jennie’s finger traced up the seam of Jisoo’s jeans, to the small, perfect dip of her thigh, and to the waistband, encircling around the button and tugging at it timidly. Face flushed, Jisoo bit her lip before giving one bashful nod and the button gave way, followed subsequently by the zipper. Although slower nearing the bottom hem, with attentiveness and ease, the pants and undergarments were soon discarded somewhere as well.

And it was when Jisoo was under Jennie, her knees straddling Jisoo’s hips, her hands by either side of Jisoo’s head – brushing the fanned out hair neatly in order to not trap any strands – that the thought occurred.

Jisoo was beautiful.

Truly, utterly beautiful.

It was impossible to think otherwise, even in a dark room with only the moonlight through the curtains to illuminate her and her tan skin that was too scary to touch for the fear of blemish. That gaze – that gaze – oh so captivating that the will to admire any other part of Jisoo’s body was futile because it held on so strong and Jennie was so weak. Jisoo had Jennie wrapped around her finger, raveling and unraveling the knots deep in her stomach with every gesture so effortlessly they were bound to combust.

“Jennie,” she husked euphoniously. “Not to ruin the mood but…”

“Hm?”

“... this is my first time.”

A pause.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jennie chuckled softly. “Me neither.”

“You seem to know more than me.”

“Well, I’ve done it a few times, but never with…”

“Oh, great. Looks like we both don’t know what we’re doing.”

They giggled – Jennie dipping her chin and Jisoo covering petitly with eyes crescent. Once it ebbed, Jisoo tugged lightly at Jennie’s hoodie.

“Can you take this off?”

It was clumsier than when Jennie undressed Jisoo, but maybe it’s because it was herself and shyness was insurmountable in the face of the older girl. But with the help of Jisoo’s reassuring smile and soothing touch, the air soon kissed Jennie’s bare skin. She shuddered, either from that or Jisoo’s thumb grazing her fevered skin – from her forearm to her shoulder and along the dip of her collarbone and up the length of to her chin, tracing her jawline to her earlobe and rounding back to her cheekbone to settle on her bottom lip. She tapped once, twice, thrice.

It was nerve-racking – not only because Jennie hadn’t thought this far, but because it wasn’t just anyone; it was Jisoo. But something about Jisoo told her she didn’t need to think, that no plan was okay, that she only needed to do, and perhaps it’s the way Jisoo’s hands s around to the nape of her neck and up the length of her back to her shoulder blades, gently coaxing her closer until Jisoo’s heartbeat pounded against Jennie’s flushed chest, synchronous to her own.

“This is right,” Jennie murmured, more a question than a statement as her eyes gauged Jisoo for mutuality.

A play of glistening gold flecks on brown hue told all as Jisoo tucked Jennie’s hair behind her earlobe, but Jennie had to hear her say it. Just for this moment because reading it was one thing – she could always read her – but hearing would mean it’s all true.

“Yes,” said Jisoo, lips curled.

There were no further thoughts, only Jisoo’s warmth.