Jenlisa Drabbles

oranges

A/N: haewo, here's a quick one. A warning —themes of an anxiety attack albeit subtle but if that triggers you better skip for now. You're strong and brave btw ☺️

To: cottagecorekim, i love you

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“Do you want me to read you something?” she asks, filling the room with a brightness she can barely adjust to at ten in the evening.

She hums in agreement, a pause and she hears paper rustling and her gentle laugh, “yeah I figured you’d enjoy this as much as I do.”

Lisa doesn’t think she has to say anything at this point, how does she say yes, i do, all the fucking time without sounding desperate tonight? Her fingers feel colder at the tips despite it being the middle of summer and most of her shirt clinging to her back from all the sweat. She tries to focus on her breathing—in and out, in and out like a dulled out metronome and it makes the room spin more than it should.

She hears the little hum, “we always talked about going to Paris,” there’s a hint of nostalgia in her tone, “maybe I should learn a bit of French and read you something then?”

Lisa smiles at the teasing undertone and feels warmth creep to her cheeks and fingers, “I’d like that a lot.”

“Maybe I’ll settle on this one for now,” there’s shuffling and muted taps on the keyboard, “Oranges, by Gaby Soto.”

Pause

“The first time I walked, with a girl” she starts, her words coming out more airy than they usually are, “I was twelve,”

Lisa finds herself splayed out on the floor in the middle of the room. The fabric of the carpet clinging to her cool skin. She was beginning to see little white orbs out of the corners of her eyes, the ceiling looking more and more like a tapestry of black and somber green.

“Cold,” the word falls warmly around her, almost as if it intends to blanket her with its truth—she felt cold all over, not too long ago. Hyperventilating against the kitchen table and knocking the cup of stale coffee, leaving stains on her pretty tablecloth. “And weighed down.”

“This is very timely,” she says back between the brief pause, waiting for her voice.

“With two oranges in my jacket.” the room begins to skew when she laughs, “December. Frost cracking.”

She turns to her side, smelling the faint hint of musty lemon air freshener. Everything’s moving slower than usual; her breath, the subtle tick of the clock on the bedside table, Jennie’s faint breathing and the occasional wetness of  her tongue on her lips.

“Beneath my steps, my breath —before me, then gone.”she starts again, softer, gentler. Like she’s holding them close to her lips, like a kiss. “As I walked toward her house, the one whose porchlight burned yellow.”

There’s a dog barking, and the click of her neighbor’s door. The brief break settles the room, the darkness, everything that make up her evening, She mutters a quiet fuck and looks up briefly on the bed, soft white light caught on the messy sheets, “Night and day, in any weather.” she says “A dog barked at me, until she came pulling at her gloves.”

Lisa could see it, muted yellow lights on Jennie’s cheeks and the furrow on her brows. Quick, a quiet little spark that goes away sooner than she liked. It calms the hammering in her chest, settles the quivers in her fingers.

“Face bright, with rouge. I smiled,” the giggle fills the room, “touched her shoulder, and led her down the street.” she fades away, pushing out the words at the end. Like she’s sharing a secret. “Across,”