The day after the next, Seulgi dropped by with a plastic bag of take-out food from Taeyeon’s restaurant.

It was the date Jisoo had owed her, Seulgi had proclaimed. And after an uneventful day lounging around, Jisoo was beyond delighted. Relieving really, because Jennie began to worry if the girl was getting bored and lonely from being confined in the apartment all day (considering she’s so adamant about the outside). Chaeyoung worked most of the day, and although Jennie only worked half of Chaeyoung’s hours, it must’ve been nice for Jisoo to see another face.

“Hello?” Jennie announced softly upon opening the door. The evening’s hue filtered through the window blinds, the room a pattern of warm stripes. An unfamiliar and strange, yet cozy and nice thing to come home to after a full shift with Chaeyoung.

“Hello?” Jisoo’s husky voice wafted from the kitchen. “Jennie?”

“Hey,” Jennie breathed, the day’s labor washed away from the sight of Jisoo in her pajamas, sitting at the table with a coloring book and crayons. After taking off her sneakers (lent from Jisoo), Jennie walked over and planted a kiss on the crown of the other’s head. She moved the crutches leaning on the wall to the side and pulled a chair beside Jisoo, slumping into it. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah.” Jisoo tapped on the page. “Seulgi got me a coloring book. Figured it would help me feel better and keep me entertained. Who does she think I am, a child? Although, it is fun… Look, I colored this dog well, huh?”

Jisoo nudged the book toward Jennie. The incomplete picture was of a simple house, the typical square exterior and triangle roof, with two neighboring trees. The only thing with color so far was a dog with floppy ears playing with a ball on the grass, its fur meticulously colored brown and, surprisingly, shaded incredibly well.

“That’s impressive,” Jennie admitted with a soft smile. “Have you been coloring all this time?”

Jisoo shook her head and plucked a lint off Jennie’s sweater sleeve. “Seulgi left not too long ago. Where’s Chaeyoung?”

“She’s out with Lisa again.”

“That rascal.” Jisoo clicked her tongue, contrary to her smirk. “I should be the one giving her a curfew.”

Jennie chuckled, tucking one knee under her and the other to her chest. “How did Seulgi take the truth, by the way?”

“Amazingly great. She actually called it. She made a bet to herself that I wasn’t into guys because I’ve never dated in college, no matter how many guys my friends set me up with.”

“That’s good. And… about me?”

Jisoo hummed, “I only laid out the general information. You know, bad daddy and about us. She was a little shocked at first — probably thought I was pulling her leg — but considering everything she heard that day, she decided it made sense.”

Jennie exhaled in relief. “That’s really good.”

Jisoo smiled softly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“A sandwich. Chaeyoung said it’s an employee meal, so it’s free of charge. Did Seulgi’s food make you full?”

“Yeah, it was tasty. But I could really go for some banana milk.” Jisoo slipped the crayons back into its box. “Do you want to come with me to Seulgi’s office?”

“Seulgi’s office? Now?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I still need to work on the biography because the deadline is coming soon. I think around the wedding day? And I use Seulgi’s typewriter, since it’s financially more convenient.”

At the mere mention of the wedding, Jennie’s heart sank and a sickly feeling stirred in her chest. Jisoo must’ve noticed because her eyes softened before squeezing Jennie’s hand. “This is the last thing to do. It’ll take one more week; just one. Then, I’ll collect the payment, cut all ties with the company, and we’ll go wherever. The check will get us anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We need this check, or else I might not be able to provide for the both of us.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for you.”

“Yeah, well, what’s life without some responsibility?” Jisoo quipped, cracking a small smile. “Don’t worry, it’s my job. I want to do this; I need to do this.”

From the fiery resolution in Jisoo’s eyes, she wasn’t renouncing anytime soon, or at all. The coloring book still splayed open. They could have what’s on that page: a house, a dog, maybe some fruit trees, maybe a lawn. Although so out of reach, the possibility was there; there and motivating and attainable.

“I’ll come with you,” Jennie said after a moment, squeezing her hand in return. “Who’ll protect you if someone robs you?”

Jisoo beamed and pecked the corner of Jennie’s lips. “As if you can fight them off. We both will get robbed.” She patted Jennie’s head upon her pout. “Let me get ready. Wait right here.”

As Jisoo crutched her way to her bedroom, Jennie cleaned up the coloring supplies. Once the book and box were neatly stacked and the table cleared, the phone rang. The clock read a quarter past seven — it must be Joohyun.

“Hello?” Jennie answered.

Silence met the other end. It would’ve been disquieting at first, but it had been the usual because Joohyun took extra precaution, whatever that may be. Jennie rested her elbow on her arm and leaned against the wall patiently.

Had Joohyun eaten yet? Was she doing well? Those questions were usually asked, so —

“Jennie.”

Frozen.

“Jennie.”

Thump, thump, thump.

She should drop the phone. She should return the receiver and walk as far away as possible from the telephone; maybe smash it, maybe chuck it into the trash can. But everything was too much in shock, her trembling grip tightening around the handle. Whether that was from fear, or anger or both, it didn’t matter because her back was sliding down the wall until she was curled on the kitchen tiles. Maybe she heard it wrong, but there was no denying that cold, deep voice.

It wasn’t Joohyun. It wasn’t Joohyun.

“Jennie, I know you’re there.”

Then, where was Joohyun?

“Where’s Joohyun?” Jennie demanded, hushed from her own lack of breath that could barely muster through the weight in her chest.

A pause.

“She’s perfectly fine. I’m wondering why you aren’t home.”

“Where. Is. She.”

“Nothing happened to her. She’s fine and healthy. Can’t a father check on his own daughter?”

She should hang up. She needed to hang up. There was nothing to say to him; he didn’t deserve any words nor any responses. The telephone was right above her, but at the same time, it was a thousand miles high. Her legs were too numb and shaky to stand. Drop the phone. Drop the phone, her brain screamed, but was drowned out by all the goddamn pounding.

“Why aren’t you home? Come home this instant. Do it while I’m asking nicely.”

Fight it. Fight it.

“No.”

Silence.

“No?”

Her rib cage hurt. Her heart was bound to burst out of her chest. So, Jennie hugged herself tighter, fists clenched and teeth gritted to hold it in. It’d pass — she just had to persevere. In, out. In out.

An ominous chuckle resonated. “No? Are you going through another rebellious phase again? Like an immature teenager? You’re an adult now, Jennie. You know better than this.”

“I do,” Jennie quavered. “And I’m saying I’m not coming home.”

A few seconds, then a sigh. “Okay.”

Okay?

“I see how it is. Alright, no worries. I was wishing it didn’t have to come to this, but you leave me no choice. I’ll make you come home myself.”

Click. Silence.

Deafening; no pounding, no ringing. All but the ticks of the new clock, and the shallow, unsteady breaths of the aftermath. Did she do it? Was it over? Pain ceased into numbness, just in time for Jisoo to walk into the kitchen adorning a scarf, cardigan, and her satchel slung across her shoulder. Upturned eyes turned alarmed, and she hurried over.

“Jennie, what are you doing on the floor?” Jisoo exclaimed, hastily throwing her crutches aside to slide across the floor to Jennie. Jennie flinched from the bang of the crutches toppling off the wall, but that fleeting moment eased when Jisoo cupped her face in her warm hands. “You’re pale. What happened?” Her eyes flitted to the phone still clutched in Jennie’s small fist. “Was it Joohyun? Did something happen?”

“Isn’t it too late in the day to go to Seulgi’s office?”

The words came out weak, and Jisoo faltered.

“Well, uhm,” Jisoo worried her lip, “I work better at night. We can go earlier if you want.”

“How about the morning?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll go in the morning.”

“Okay,” Jennie exhaled steadily and held Jisoo’s hand closer to her cheek. “I’ll tell Chaeyoung. You just need a week, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, okay.”

Jisoo was searching her, brows furrowed. Hopefully, Jennie’s poker face was enough to hide the problem. Maybe it was enough because Jisoo’s studious gaze surrendered and dropped to the receiver. “How’s Joohyun?”

“She’s fine.”

“Then, why are you on the floor?”

The question was tentative. Jisoo must’ve inferred that Jennie was hiding something. The girl could always decipher that; the only thing she’s unable to decipher was what Jennie was hiding. That weighed heavy on Jennie’s heart, the guilt equal to one of a felony. It was a felony; it wasn’t fair to Jisoo — but just this once. Just this once.

“I have iron deficiency.”

Jisoo blinked.

“And,” Jennie continued, “I really want to get the hell out of here, so you’re going to get this job done. You’ll collect the pay, and we’re going away. That’s the plan, right?”

Technically, it was a partial truth — a cheap way to get around the subject. Jisoo’s hands dropped to Jennie’s knees. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

“Then, let’s do it. And,” Jennie squeezed Jisoo’s pinky and cracked a small smile, “you’re using the wheelchair. Crutches will tire you out. I’ll push you.”

Jisoo’s eyes lit up, although a flicker of skepticism lingered. “That’ll be nice. Like a morning stroll. We can get some snacks from the convenience store on the way, too.”

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. We’ll make it.”

It was hard to say whether that was more for Jennie’s assurance than Jisoo’s.

~

A week passed by and Jennie had never been so paranoid. Not because things happened, but because nothing happened; nothing happened, and Jennie was happy. A mix for a recipe for disaster.

The walks to Seulgi’s office were refreshing (although the uphill parts were tiring when pushing a Jisoo on a wheelchair). Cloudy mornings and crisp air mixed with a small breeze fluttering the leaves of the kempt greenery dotted along the sidewalk. A leaf had fallen onto Jisoo’s head, and it took a while and great difficulty for Jisoo to brush it off (no thanks to Jennie’s help, or lack of due to excessive giggling). Otherwise, they basked in the city landscape, pointing out the few odd cloud formations and various flyers along the way.

At night, the dust drifted in the lamp’s soft illumination. Swirling and floating, it teased Jennie’s line of vision until it landed on the coupon ripped fresh from the grocery catalog. The coupon was added to the pile of other coupons in exchange for another catalog from the catalog stack.

Jennie’s elbows ached from laying on her stomach for so long. Jisoo slept beside her, her pretty face, half hidden under the fluffy blanket, tranquil and her breathing mellow. Fitting for a silent night, and relaxing for Jennie’s agitation.

When Jennie tore a coupon for a thousand won for fruit, there was a slight shifting from Jisoo.

“Jennie?” Jisoo yawned, covering and stretching her back.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Jennie asked as Jisoo rubbed her eyes with fists. “Am I being too loud?”

Jisoo smiled softly and rolled into Jennie’s position, their shoulders bumping. “A little, with all the ripping and grumbling.”

“Sorry,” Jennie whispered sheepishly, sharpening the folded crease with her nail. “I didn’t realize. Careful of your ankles.”

“Don’t worry, and they’re feeling a lot better and I can move around easier. Taeyeon’s food healed me right up.” Jisoo rested her chin on her palm and eyed the pile of papers. “What are you doing?”

“Scouring coupons per Chaeyoung’s request.”

Jisoo’s gaze was scary with no intention of being scary because the scary part was that it was soft and loving and searching. It’d been like that nowadays — Jisoo searching, but never finding. There shouldn’t be anything scary about it; only Jennie’s guilt made it out to be such a way. So, Jennie mustered a weak smile and returned to the coupons.

“Is something wrong?”

Jennie’s fingers froze midway through the tear. “Nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re frowning and have that small pout that always means you’re either upset, troubled, or thinking really hard — usually about something not good. You’ve been,” her voice dropped, “doing that a lot recently.”

Jisoo was staring at her, waiting patiently. That fact made the hairs on Jennie’s neck prick and tightened her grip on the poor coupon wrinkled from it. Jisoo was figuring her out, asking for honesty without asking it forthright, and it was about time Jennie was truthful toward her. It hung in the air. If this went on any longer, what would Jisoo think about her then? A liar? That wasn’t far from the truth, but out of all people, Jisoo shouldn’t be the one thinking Jennie was a liar. No, not Jisoo.

Jennie sighed, “You know how I call Joohyun every evening?”

“Yes.”

“About a week ago, she stopped calling me.”

A pause.

“Why?”

Jennie tore the coupon — a clean line straight down. “Because my father knows. He picked up our last call.”
 

Jisoo stilled. Even without a glance, it was easy to tell Jisoo was shocked, perhaps a little betrayed. Scratch that, really betrayed. Jennie tried to focus on flipping through the next catalog, but the tension made it hard to find anything when all the words were incoherent and traveling in and out her head filled with shame.

“So he knows you’re gone?” Jisoo asked carefully.

Jennie nodded.

“What happened to Joohyun?”

“I don’t know. He says she’s perfectly fine, but I doubt it. And he says he’ll make me come home himself, but nothing has happened yet. I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but I feel uneasy.” Jennie set the catalog down and ran her fingers through her hair. “So, that’s — that’s why.”

Silence. From the corner of Jennie’s eye, Jisoo was thinking. Her jaw was set and her brows were stitched.

“I don’t think we should be going outside,” Jisoo said.

“What do you mean? We only go to Seulgi’s office.”

“Exactly. You should’ve told me this sooner. Why didn’t you?”

Jennie gulped and turned away from Jisoo. “I know, I — I should’ve, but I didn’t want to worry you until I figured out what’s going on. And I knew you wouldn’t want to go to work if you knew. But nothing has happened yet, so we’re fine. We’ll be okay.”

A moment passed before a soft hand took Jennie’s hand, connecting each fingertip one at a time. The tenderness eased Jennie to turn back to Jisoo, who had relaxed her expression.

“Do you trust me?” Jisoo whispered.

“Of course.”

“Then, be honest with me; communicate with me. I know you struggle with that type of stuff, but I want you to know that you can tell me anything, and I’ll tell you anything. Especially about something like this. We’re in this together, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I never meant to lie to you, but I just — I don’t know — in a way I knew I was lying to you, but I really didn’t want to —” Jennie’s lips were paused by two of Jisoo’s fingers.

“I get it,” Jisoo said, grazing Jennie’s bottom lip when her fingers retracted. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“It’s a little unfair to you, isn’t it?”

Jisoo shrugged. “I don’t care. Maybe you can explain yourself when you’re ready, but I understand even if you don’t.”

The knot in Jennie’s chest unraveled, and it was easier to breathe. Jisoo always made everything unbelievably easy — easier than it should’ve been. “Aren’t you almost done writing the biography?”

“Yes.”

“Then, finish it. Like you said, cut ties as soon as possible.”

Jisoo frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Tomorrow is all you need, right?”

“Yeah…”

Jennie smiled softly and pecked the center of Jisoo’s palm. “Tomorrow, in the morning. Then, we’ll have the rest of the day free.”

The rest of our lives free.

Jisoo returned the smile, easing out their locked hands to gather some of the stray coupons into a neat stack. “You should sleep. Screw these coupons. I used to be on coupon duty and it’s so boring.”

Jennie giggled and plucked the stack from Jisoo to add to the others on the nightstand. “It’s therapeutic for me; ripping these and all.”

Jisoo narrowed her eyes. “Whatever you say. Let’s do these tomorrow, then. For now, off to bed.”

After the bedsheets were cleared of any scraps, the lamp was turned off to let darkness take over. Dark enough to bend weird shapes and shadows, but illuminated enough to see the ceiling and Jisoo’s profile.

“Chu,” Jennie muttered.

“Hm?”

“Is it time to think about the future?”

No response. Jennie pressed on.

“What’s going to happen? You collect the money, then what?”

“Then, we get out of this city and find a place far away.”

“That cottage in the woods?”

Jisoo chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Even though you’ve lived with Chaeyoung for so long? You guys are practically married.”

“One day she’ll find someone. That’s life, you know. She’ll find someone and I don’t plan on being a third wheel.”

“Does she know you’ll do this? That we’re doing this?”

“Honestly, I haven’t told her yet. But she’ll know, and she’ll be fine with it. She’ll be fine. I’ve already talked to her about moving out, and she was fine — ecstatic for me, actually. I decided to move out a long time ago, so this isn’t any different.”

Really? The revelation was disheartening. What if Jennie was a second too late, and Jisoo had long gone? Would they have met ever again? “What about your other friends?”

Jisoo laughed, and slight shifting implied that Jisoo was facing her. “Hey, it’s not like I’m cutting ties with everyone. We’ll still be friends. Do you — do you feel guilty? Is that why? That this is what it takes to get away?”

“Maybe,” Jennie replied meekly.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t think to do this if it wasn’t for the best. All of us will keep in touch, and Chaeyoung does have someone.”

“She does?”

“You don’t know?”

“No?”

Jennie didn’t have to look to tell Jisoo was smiling. “They’re a lot closer than she thinks. Are you still worried?”

“Yeah. How am I going to get a job? I don’t think I can use my real identity, and I didn’t even go to college. I don’t want you bearing all the financial responsibility.”

“Woah, that’s way too far in the future. We’ll figure it out once we get there; there’s no rush. Take it slow. First, let’s live a little. You know: learning how to cook, maybe decorate our place, all those things. You should learn stuff, too. The stuff you might’ve missed out on. Maybe a little garden...”

The corners of Jennie’s lips curled up. “Okay, but I’ll figure something out.”

“We’ll take each step together, okay?” Jisoo squeezed Jennie’s hand under the covers. “So, please talk to me. Let’s help each other.”

Jennie’s eyes strayed away from the ceiling to meet Jisoo’s. Backed by the moonlight filtered through the curtains, Jisoo was beautiful. Although Jennie could only see half of her face, it was effortless to piece together the other half; all of it was memorized. Picture perfect in her brain. Jennie rolled to her side to mirror Jisoo, knees bumping and finger lightly tracing down the girl’s nose bridge to her soft, heart-shaped lips.

“Okay.”

Jisoo sighed. Faint, but deep — and so, so heavy. How often did she let out a sigh so heavy? Jennie edged closer, gingerly wrapping her leg around Jisoo’s legs to eliminate that cumbersome space between, to pull herself in enough to pillow their foreheads and breathe in all of her. While Jisoo hugged Jennie around the waist with the same gingerness, Jennie tucked away some hair behind the other’s ear before her palm rested on the girl’s chest — right at the beating heart.

Let out a sigh just like that, she wanted to say. Jisoo’s eyes fluttered open and shut, and her breathing was careful as if breathing any harder would break this delicate space between them. Don’t think of anything else. Just let it out.

“,” Jisoo mumbled.

“What?”

“I like you. A lot.”

Heat flushed Jennie’s face, and a flustered giggle cut the silence. For whatever reason, those words always made her feel like a teenager again. “What the heck are you saying —”

“I like you so much, I don’t want to lose you again.”

Jisoo held Jennie’s hand closer to her heart, the steady rhythm’s sincerity coursing through Jennie’s fingertips to ache her own heart. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. A distinct burn pricked the back of Jennie’s eyes, so she closed them in case anything accidentally spilled.

“So,” Jisoo gulped, “please don’t let go of my hand.”

In, out. In, out. In, out. Once her breathing was controlled, her eyes opened. Jisoo was still there. Her hand still held Jennie’s hand. Her gaze still lingered with no intention of looking anyway soon; deep, dilated pools that said, felt, and seen so much. At that moment dawned a scary realization — Jennie had Jisoo.

And when you had someone, they were subject to be taken away.

But not this time. This time, Jennie would not let go of Jisoo. Jisoo would not be taken away if Jennie’s life depended on it.

So far from perfect, but what they had right now was as close as it could be — so close, it hurt to throw it away. Jennie clung to Jisoo’s hand tight, kissing her knuckles.

“I won’t let go.”