One Shots {Chaelisa}

{clumsy}

"—it was such a stupid move, honestly, I can't believe I did that," Chaeyoung huffs, cradling her injured arm to her chest and glaring at the dashboard.

Lisa hums out a response, pulling into their driveway with a smooth practiced ease.

She doesn't elaborate as she gathers her and Chaeyoung's bags and opens Chaeyoung's door, or even as she unlocks their front door and holds it open for her wife to shuffle through.

It's not that she's angry.

She kind of wishes she was angry, actually, because Roseanne was reckless and honestly a little selfish and, god, Lisa wishes she could just be angry.

Instead, she's trying to forget the stab of fear she felt when it was Jennie on Chaeyoung's phone, when she could hear Rosie's muffled sobs in the background when she picked up the call.

Instead, she's so overwhelmed with relief that it was only a broken wrist that she could cry.

Chaeyoung must have sense it, because she hovers near Lisa as she moves from the hall to the living room, from the living room to the kitchen.

"I can help," she insists, trying to grab the bag of groceries Lisa had been getting when she got the call out of her arms.

"You have a broken wrist," Lisa snaps, pulling the bag out of Chaeyoung's reach.

She deflates instantly at Roseanne's sheepish look, at how easily she lets Lisa move her out of the way, how she stays put in the chair Lisa pushes her into.

"I'm sorry," she says after a beat. "I know it's not your fault."

Chaeyoung slips her good hand into Lisa's, tangling their fingers and holding Lisa steady. "It kind of is," she responds. "I didn't listen to Jennie and I got hurt. Completely my fault."

Nodding, Lisa lets Roseanne tug her to stand between her legs and she withdraws her hand from her wife's in order to cup her face, thumbs smoothing along soft cheekbones.

Roseanne's looking up at her with these wide eyes, silently asking to be let in and so it's with a heavy sigh that Lisa finally gives a voice to the terrible thought that's been hounding her ever since she raced to the hospital.
"I'm glad you're okay. But I'm—," she bites off, struggling with how to best word the next thing she needs to say. The blonde turns her face into Lisa's palm, kissing it gently, her good hand coming up to rest on the Thai's other wrist.

"I'm tired of being so worried," Lisa continues finally. "I'm tired of having to be relieved that it's just a broken wrist or just a shattered ankle or just a dislocated shoulder."

There's a moment—a pause.

Chaeyoung thinks that she should say something but finds that all her words are stuck in her throat, choking her.

Before she can find a way to say that she knows, that she's sorry, that she'll be careful, Lalisa is leaning in and kissing her softly. "We can talk it through later," she promises, dropping her hands from Chaeyoung's face in favor of helping her stand and guiding her towards the stairs. "You're in need of a bath."

"I can't—," Chaeyoung starts before Lisa shushes her gently.

"You won't have to."

___

She leaves Chaeyoung on their bed, slipping into the bathroom and Roseanne listens to the soft sounds of the dark haired woman moving around in the other room, the water starting as she draws a bath, the cabinets opening and closing as she gathers linens. Eventually she reemerges, whatever irritation or fear pushed aside in favor of that soft look that she reserves for Chae.

"Come on," she hums, gesturing for Roseanne to raise her arms.

Roseanne can do nothing but comply. Hands in the air, she watches as Lisa carefully gathers the material of her shirt and tug it over her head in one fluid motion, pausing to fold it before she lays it on the bed beside Roseanne.

"Stand up," Lisa requests softly, already working the fly of Roseanne's jeans. When she does, Lisa rolls the material down Chaeyoung's legs, hesitating slightly when she sees the bruises blooming along her thighs and calves. She presses a fleeting, gentle kiss to each purple blossom before she rolls Chaeyoung's jeans the rest of the way down, helping her wife step out of them.

She folds the jeans and tosses them on the bed to join Chaeyoung's shirt before she guides the blonde into the bathroom, bagging her casted arm before she helps her out of her bra and underwear. Lisa lets Chaeyoung use her as a steadying arm as she steps into the bath, sinking into the water with a groan.

"Lis—," she mumbles, biting off a moan. "God, this feels so good."

"Figured you'd been training too hard if you ended up with this,"

Lisa responds dryly, gently nudging Chaeyoung's bagged and duct taped arm. After a moment that Chaeyoung misses, eyes fallen shut soon after settling into the tub, Lisa murmurs, "Lean back."

She does as instructed, dropping her head back into Lisa's waiting hands. And then warm water is running over her head, the droplets that threaten to run down Chaeyoung's forehead and into her eyes are stopped with a deft hand. Lisa wets the rest of Chaeyoung's long hair quickly, letting her rest the full weight of her head in her hand.

She works in silence through the process, picking up one of her expensive, sweet smelling shampoos that she knows Chaeyoung loves the most. When she gently scratches Roseanne's scalp, combing through her hair and checking for tangles, Lisa's more than a little amused by the sound that Roseanne makes in response.

Leaning over, Lisa starts the hand shower and rinses Chae's hair, aiming the water away from her eyes as best she can. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," she finds herself saying. "When I got the call I—I thought—."

This time, Chaeyoung's ready—her words don't catch in her throat and so she soothes, "Hey, I know."

She opens her eyes to see Lisa looking down at her with this awful, haunted look in her eyes; it's a look that Chaeyoung has become accustomed to, but a look that she wishes she could erase altogether. She tries her best with the words she has now, here, in this humid bathroom with Lisa still carefully rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. "I just want to get better and, I'm so clumsy-" she shakes her head lightly, "I am so, so sorry Lili. I never mean to scare you like this."

Lisa nods, her expression carefully neutral, but Chaeyoung is familiar enough to recognize the sheen of unshed tears in her dark eyes. She nods once more, more forceful than the last before she rolls her shoulder and gives Roseanne a shaky smile, growing steadier by the second. "I'll have to see if Irene can get us a frequent flyer discount at the ER," Lisa jokes, breaking the tension.

Roseanne snorts, reaching back to flick water at Lisa with her good hand. "Another joke like that and I'll pull you in."

"Is that a promise?" Lisa, scrunching up her nose as she looks down at her wife, water droplets clinging to the few strands of hair that have escaped her bun.
For a moment, this is all there is.  

Chaeyoung, grinning up at Lisa, smile wide and bright and dimples deep. Lisa, watching her with the softest look on her face, her hands gentle as she starts to condition her hair. For one brief, shining moment, they exist in this wonderful, insulated bubble—together and safe from the rest of the world.

At some point, the rest of the world will seep in, under the door and through the windows. They'll have to talk this out for about the hundredth time and it probably won't stick. It'll be the same fight, different day.

But right now, it's good.