One Shots {Chaelisa}

{breathe}

A/N: Credits go to dxbshevd at Ao3 :)

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A sharp gasp for air and a frazzled, rapid rustling of the sheets have Chaeyoung snapping her eyes open abruptly. Chocolate irises, wide and alert, stare at Lisa who is sitting up in the bed, chest heaving and lips parted in a wretched grimace — seemingly riding through the aftermath of a horrible nightmare.

The darkness only offers a sliver of evening glow through the window to illuminate the dew on Lisa's skin and the way her shirt clings damply to her torso — shining perfectly upon the wrinkle of her brow to convey her distress.

Trepidly and hesitantly, Chaeyoung reaches a hand over from her prone position beside Lisa and places it around the wrist that is propping her up in her seated position.

"Lisa?" she whispers, but she receives no answer. She only watches Lisa continue erratically breathing, a shaking hand rising to cover her face as she dips into a territory Chaeyoung has not seen her fall into very often. She can count on one hand the number of times she has seen Lisa overcome by sobs.

Those tears are a dismal thing. They wrack Lisa's body, leaving her silently weeping with shivering shoulders and desperate gasps for breath. A feebleness is evident in Lisa when she cries that leaves Chaeyoung's heart ruthlessly wrung as she is forced to watch on. There is an evident tension in the way Lisa cries, too, as if she is straining diligently to hide it. As if she's not allowed to feel this way — isn't allowed to cry — because she is supposed to uphold a sense of strength and stability.

Roseanne slowly rises, inching closer to Lisa as if she is a meek, skittish animal that may jump and run if approached too quickly. She leans in farther and farther until their bodies are flush. Gently, Chaeyoung urges the hand off of Lisa's face, slowly peeling it away and hushing her to reassure her that everything is okay.

"Hey," Roseanne mutters tenderly, "Look at me."

Lisa's eyes roam around the room as if contemplating if she has the courage to look at Roseanne at all. Chaeyoung wonders if the nightmare was about her; if something had happened to her... or, worst of all, maybe she had inflicted something awful onto Lisa within the nightmare. Either way, Lisa seems fearfully reluctant to face Chaeyoung, and the blonde can't help but worry and question why.

"Haven't had one of these in a while," Roseanne says in an effort to ease Lalisa's lingering terror and tension. She huffs a gentle chuckle, but the attempt at lightheartedness is not reciprocated. Lisa remains rigid, terrified, and borderline devastated. "Can you look at me, Lali?"

,,Lis?"

Steadily, Lisa pivots her head until their eyes meet in the darkness. Chaeyoung can't see much, but with what light is proffered, she sees enough to send her into a state of reparation, needing to fix this because the look on Lisa's face is about the most devastating thing she has ever seen.

"Come here, baby." Chaeyoung says softly as she pulls Lisa into a tight and secure embrace where she seems to gradually dissolve to putty in tightly clinging arms though she continues her stammering and quivering which leaves Roseanne holding onto her tighter, hushing her and scratching at her back soothingly.

Lisa nestles her face in the crook of Chaeyoung's neck, holding onto her for dear life as if letting go would mean Roseanne would dissolve into mere dust and float away in a flurry to never be seen again.

"You were- I couldn't- it was," The Thai bellows, muffled in Roseanne's skin, so panicked as she coughs and wheezes for air to regain a semblance of composure. "It was awful, Rosie. I can't-."

Chaeyoung releases a doleful sigh, turning to leave a gentle kiss against Lisa's head.
She cringes as she hears Lisa cough again, breath startingly strangled and ragged.

"Just breathe," Roseanne says within a long exhale to spur the same kind of relaxed breathing from Lisa. She inhales deeply, feeling the jut of her chest's inhale press against Lisa's who mirrors the same motion shakily before Roseanne emits the air into the darkness of their bedroom.

She feels air escape slowly from Lisa's mouth into her skin, feels the way her body moves through the cycle of relaxed breathing until she is in a deeper repose.

"Good, just like that baby," Roseanne lovingly encourages, going through the same motion once more until she is content with the way Lisa is breathing against her. "That's it."

Lisa grows placid in her arms, devoid of any more trembling or weeping. She exhales deeply into Chaeyoung's skin.

Roseanne unwinds her arms from the embrace, pulls back, and cups Lisa's face in her hands. Her thumbs brush at the little glistening tears and streaks that mark Lisa's cheeks, offering her a reassuring simper.

"You're alright," Chaeyoung says, smoothing down messy, black bangs until her palm caresses down the length of Lisa's face to rest there again.

One kiss to Lisa's forehead, then her nose, then her lips. All so gentle, only meant to pacify and shift a feeling of warmth and security that Lisa so obviously needs. There are traces of worry lingering in Lisa, parts of her that remain stiff and nervous — leaving Roseanne unsatisfied to leave her in this state.

"You're here... with me," Chaeyoung reminds, instilling the prompt of reality in Lisa's lingering state of delirium. She reminds Lisa that they're just here, in the middle of the night, in their bed, in their apartment. Nowhere else. Just here.

Lisa reluctantly nods within Roseanne's grasp, leaning forward to press her forehead against hers. "Here," Lalisa wavers with another small nod and a sniffle, much too exhausted to form any other words other than that to express her new state of tranquility.

It's then that Chaeyoung smiles lightly, letting herself fall back gently against the pillow once more and urging Lisa to follow. Upon Roseanne's chest lays a languid Lisa, warm and secure, with an arm wrapped around the blonde.

No matter how many nights Roseanne spends in this position, flush somehow against the younger girl, she never grows tired of it. Feeling her mold against her, taut and perfect, courses a feeling of inexplicable contentedness that tingles and swells in the best possible way. It's as if Lisa is a piece of her, fitting so perfectly against her, and Chaeyoung would be damned if she isn't thankful for every single moment shared like this.