Midnights In Paris | Jenlisa

Hearts Are Made to Be Broken

The lonely notes of the first movement of "Moonlight Sonata" hanged in the tiny space of Lisa's hotel room, making the place look even more surreal to her eyes. Nevertheless, she let herself be lulled into a state of semi consciousness, made possible only by the regular breathing of the body next to her. If it wasn't for the small puffs of air that met her face in constant waves, she would have thought she was alone. It still didn't keep herself from feeling like she was.

"Do you make it a habit of listening to music this depressing after sleeping with somebody? Are you trying to make me leave?" Whispered words, delivered with a smile on Lisa's shoulder, interrupted her thoughts.

She let out a soft laugh, one she realized she hadn't reserved for anyone in a long time, while her eyes fixated to the ceiling. It was the first time since the breakup that she had left whoever she had come home with stay the night. Facing them in the morning, exchanging pleasantries as if they hadn't been just each other's escort, a less lonely way to end an even lonelier night, felt too hollow, too shallow on her heart.

But with Kristine, it had been different. She couldn't quite put a name on what had made it different this time. The lights had still been turned off and her eyes, too, she kept them closed the most she could. Yet there was something, an invisible resemblance, that tightened her and Jennie together as if they had been made with the same stamp. They touched in the same way. Lisa would go as far as saying that they made love in the same way, but Kristine hadn't refused to her touch, hadn't laid upon her like a dead weight, immobilized by her own actions. With her, it had been like giving into a fantasy she didn't know she had.

And even right then, with the few rays of sun that a french winter allowed to transpire into her room, with her eyes closed, it didn't come too hard to imagine the light kisses being placed at the base of her neck to be somebody else's.

"I can't quite place your accent, you know" Lisa whispered, her eyes semi open now, in an attempt to hide the trembling of her voice.

Her companion had obviously noticed the way her breath had become heavy once again, resembling the one of the night before if not for a tint of vulnerability that had found no place in the bed with them then.

"I was born in Oslo"

Lisa hummed, partly feigning interest, too busy trying to control her own breath to truly listen to the girl's words.

"You don't know where that is, do you?" Kristine asked with a small laugh.

Once again, if she had known just a tiny bit about geography she probably wouldn't have been neck deep into the situation she had found herself in.

"Well" she said, suddenly bringing herself upright and over Lisa, her ocean eyes staring down at her before she straddled her waist. She took Lisa's arm, bringing it next to her face before starting to cover it with light, feather like kisses "it's a lot northern than here".

Lisa shivered at the contact, silently hoping that Kristine would not think too much over the fact that her eyes seemed to prefer the white ceiling over her face.

"Now, It's my turn to ask you a question" the blonde spoke again, her eyes kept bearing, or rather trying to, into Lisa's dark brown orbits.

"Shoot"

"Why me?"

"Pardon?"