Love's a fragile little flame || Jenlisa Adaption

Chapter 11

Jennie's always turned her nose up at the concept of brunch.

She's wary of the ambiguousness of it — the way it's half breakfast, half lunch. Like, is there a need for that? Just pick one or the other!

Even though she's not a 'brunch person' she's learning that, like with baths, she'll happily make an exception for Lisa.

It helps that the diner Lisa drove them to is really cute and private. The tables are spaced out and the windows are dressed with sheer curtains that let in the light while obscuring customers from passersby. It's a popular spot among public figures.

Which, evidently, is something that at least one paparazzo has caught on to.

When Lisa asks her if she's freaking out about it, once they're seated in a secluded corner, Jennie just shrugs.

"I mean, they'll know we went to breakfast together. Who cares?"

Lisa's eyebrows lift. "You're handling this better than that other paparazzi incident..."

Jennie leans forward, resting her forearm on the table. "Uh, you mean the one where they got a shot of me with my hand up your skirt?" she asks, voice low and incredulous. "Yeah, no shit I'm handling it better."

Lisa grins as Jennie sits back in her chair and crosses her arms.

"You were pretty handsy that night," she says, biting her bottom lip. "And we hadn't even kissed yet. Like, in a non-acting capacity."

"Please, you rectified that about 15 minutes later — don't act like I jumped the gun."

Lisa twists her lips to the side and Jennie prepares herself for whatever little bomb she's about to drop.

"You know, Jen," she starts, eyes briefly falling to Jennie's mouth. "When I suggested we practice kissing, I can't in all honesty say I was strictly thinking about the scene..."

And sure, Jennie kind of had a feeling, and they've come so far since then, but hearing Lisa put it out there so directly gives her butterflies.

Of course, the waiter decides that this is the right time to make an appearance. Jennie orders a coffee and Lisa orders a pitcher of mimosas, and Jennie wants to roll her eyes because it's just so damn brunchy, but whatever, she'll allow it.

They are celebrating, after all.

(That thought gives her butterflies too.)

Once he's gone Lisa leans in. She reaches beneath the table and places her hand on Jennie's knee.

"It was just an excuse. I was already dying to kiss you." She squeezes Jennie's thigh. "Did you know?"

Jennie's face warms. She bites the inside of her cheek in an attempt to tamp down the giddy happiness bubbling up inside her.

"I mean, no..." she says, glancing away coyly. "But it could've been because I was distracted by how much I wanted to kiss you."

Lisa smiles softly. "Did you really?"

"I did. You know, underneath my default reaction to all new emotions."

"Which is?"

"Blood-curdling fear."

Lisa tips her head back as she laughs. "Poor baby." She rubs her thumb over Jennie's leg before pulling back. "You definitely hid it well."

"Hah, yeah right. Maybe at first... which reminds me — we still should, like, actually talk."

"We should," Lisa says, clocking the waiter as he approaches with their drinks. "But not here."

*

They order food (Jennie chooses from the lunch menu) and stick to lighter topics, rehashing yesterday's big premiere and gossiping about the party's drunken antics.