Amidst the Misery

Chapter 9: To Keep You Close, To Love You Most

Lisa gently pushes her back on the couch, ignoring her plea to remain still.

“Your coffee date was last night, you missed it,” Lisa explains patiently as she adjusts Jennie into a sitting position, settling her against the back of the couch and rewrapping the blankets around her.

Jennie wracks her brain trying to put the pieces together but then feels exhausted from the effort to concentrate on anything other than breathing. It feels like being drunk but not drunk enough to numb the insistent throbbing pain. “Are they mad? They wanted me to talk about Lisa,” she asks, tipping her head back atop the couch cushion, closing her eyes. She’s hot.

Lisa laughs and shakes her head but Jennie doesn’t see it, nor does she realise her last thought was said out loud.

“When you didn’t show, Rosé cancelled on me to go hang out with Jisoo for an impromptu date night. O was happy she didn’t have to change out of her mom sweats.”

“Ok,” Jennie sighs, relieved as much for her friends’ nonplussed reactions as for her own desire to remain in home clothes. But the temporary peace soon washes away. When she opens her eyes again they immediately widen in alarm, “Who punched you in the neck?”

Jennie’s suddenly lucid. She feels herself getting upset, a frown and fist forming at the sight of a small purplish patch just above the collar of Lisa’s silk blouse. She reaches out to clumsily hook her finger in the collar for a better look, jerking Lisa forward.

Lisa wordlessly wrests her hand away. Jennie can’t quite understand the blush and sigh she receives, or the mumbled, “Who do you think.” She struggles to make sense of her culpability because she’s too busy declaring, “I’ll fight them!”, and punching her fist in the air. Or so she thought, but is then doubly confused to find her arm still lying listlessly by her side. Her throat suddenly feels like sandpaper from the rasp of her mini-roar.

“There’ll be no war,” Lisa whispers and unwraps her fingers, tracing soft lines in her palm to calm her.

It comes to Jennie when Lisa next goes to smooth out her pout, the pad of two fingers flattening the downward curve of her upper lip then lingering on her beauty mark. She recalls in one moment of clarity the jumbled events of only a few days ago, the dinner, the storm, the revelations, Lisa kissing her, making love to her, running away, Jennie running after her, the snow and chill. So that’s why I’m cold. If she had her full wits, she’d realise it’s also likely that her body finally buckled under the weight of the emotional juggernaut of their weekend.

As the events replay, Lisa shuffles out of her coat and lays it over the couch’s arm. The cushion shifts next to Jennie and before she can question the movement her head is lifted off the couch and then pressed into a warm chest, Lisa’s arm coming around her shoulder and rubbing her back in soothing circles. Jennie re-closes her eyes folding herself into the warmth and indulging the comfort.

“They hadn’t heard from you today either so they worried,” Lisa says softly into her hair. Then a beat after, “I worried. Jisoo gave me her spare key to check in on you. Why didn’t you text me?”

Her question is greeted with silence as Jennie dozes off for the next few minutes. When it seems like it will go unanswered, Jennie speaks up, eyes still closed.

“Space.”

“What?”

“You … need … space,” Jennie labours to explain but her chest feels suddenly heavy, each word a mountain climb to convey, “I … give … space.” She lifts her head off and leans her upper body imperceptibly away from Lisa as a gesture to respect the wish for distance.