Lisa
"Five minutes," she says quietly. I can't believe my luck - I'm torn between giving Jisoo the biggest, creepiest hug in the world or sprinting to see Jennie before Hae-in shows up or something else crazy happens.
"Thank you, Jisoo," I breathe, and that's all I manage to utter before I rush inside the apartment. Jennie is nowhere to be found in the living room or kitchen, so I make a quick dash for the bedrooms. The first is open and empty; the second has the door securely closed and I know, without the confirmation of actually seeing her body, that Jennie lies inside.
My breathing becomes shallow as my heart beats frantically. I suddenly don't feel prepared for this. How will I get her to listen to me? What if she screams at me and demands I leave? I should have rehearsed a speech or something...
But my minutes are ticking down. Do I really only get five, or was Jisoo only bluffing? It won't do to risk it; I push open the bedroom door and peer inside without another thought.
Jennie is lying on the bed, but her rest isn't peaceful. She tosses and turns and thrashes in her sheets. She's still fully clothed, the cast on her hand a deep maroon colour which stands out among the pale fabrics.
My heart lurches at the sight of her, and before I know it my feet are propelling me forward. As I draw closer I see that her cheeks are stained with dried tears, a few stray strands of her hair matted against the sides of her face. She whimpers, but there's no doubt that she's really asleep.
I crouch beside her bed, afraid to get too close. I'm afraid she'll wake while I'm near and go ape shit at my presence.
"Jennie?" I whisper. Her head turns, but it's the result of her restlessness, not her actual return to consciousness.
"Jennie," I try again.
I reach out to touch her shoulder, tentative and slow, while continuously wondering if this is a good idea.
"No," she suddenly says. Her voice is quiet, but I have no doubt of what she's said. I freeze, my hand poised in the air, and wait for an outburst or an attack.
"No," she says again. I quickly withdraw my hand.
"Jennie..."
"Stop it!" she goes on, agitated now, but one look at her face reveals she's actually still asleep. I can't help the small wave of relief I have, although I feel shitty for it.
"Jennie, you need to wake up," I say, softly shaking her shoulder. "I think you're having a nightmare."
"Lisa." She barely pants the word, and suddenly she's latching onto my shirt with her uninjured hand. She tugs it towards her hard, stretching the fabric when I resist the pull.
"Jennie..." I softly coax. I try to gently pry her fingers from their death grip, but this only makes her hold on tighter. She's calling my name again, tugging me to her, and I suddenly find myself sitting beside her in the bed, unable to resist when she buries her face into my side and settles down against me, peaceful at last.
I shouldn't relish her touch this way, especially when she's asleep. I'm being so fucking selfish it makes me sick.
I'm scared to touch her, so I keep my hands a few inches away. I have no right to just swoop in and pretend she's mine, as if I actually deserve her.
But I don't want to move, either. So I sit there and begin to ramble.
I tell her how sorry I am for everything I've done. I tell her how thankful I am for having her in my life these brief two weeks - how she helped me realize what I'm doing, and how to better myself as a person - but I can't regret anything that led me to meet her. But I do regret the way I handled the situation, and I do regret that we haven't been able to have an actual conversation. And while I don't deserve her, nor expect her to forgive me, I think she deserves the entire story so that she can properly move on from this experience.
I tell her these things even though she can't hear me - even though it makes no sense. But I can't stop myself, the words just pouring forth like sea-sickness. It comes and comes despite my inner pleas, my inner yearning for it to stop and all go away.
She stirs beside me, and I think I hear her voice so I pause. It comes louder this time.
"Lisa?"
The tone is clearer than before, but I assume she's still asleep.
"Hmm?" I say, mostly to appease her unconscious mind.
She shifts back a bit, and I suddenly see her brown eyes, dim in the faint light that's offered from the street lamp outside.
"What are you doing here, Lisa?"
