Jenlisa Oneshots

i got faith in you and i (so put your pretty little hand in mine)

Contrary to popular belief, Lisa will argue that poetry is not an exaggeration. (If anything, it can't fully convey the sheer magnitude of her love for Jennie; the term "magnitude" itself is limiting.)

Right now though, those three magical words are the best poem she could come up with.

For good measure, and just because she can, Lisa breathes the three words again, "I love you."

At the smile Jennie gives her, a smile she always wears when she feels her lungs swell with nothing but tenderness and affection for Lisa, she huffs a disbelieving laugh as if she can't believe how much they've grown all these years - happier, stronger, and better.

Once the quiet giggling subsided, Jennie senses Lisa grow serious. From the way she feels, more than see, Lisa's jaw set and her shoulders square, she knows the younger is steeling herself for a heavy question. She waits, and Lisa snakes a hand under her pillow, finding a small velvet box. She grips it tightly underneath where she knows Jennie won't see as she gathers her courage. It isn't long before Lisa quietly inquires, "Why do you love me?"

Jennie raises a brow at the unexpected question, a surprised sound between a giggle and a sharp inhale lets out from the back of her throat. At Lisa's childish pout, the older coughs to disguise her laugh, swallowing a coo at her display of dramatics, "Sorry. Uhm." Jennie hums thoughtfully as she pauses to think.

Loving Lisa had been an easy thing. There were no mind blowing realisations or big moments. It just... happened. Slowly, she concludes. Perhaps it was from the little moments, like a loose faucet leaking small droplets of water, until Jennie suddenly finds herself drowning in her love for Lisa.

In spite of that, there were still no specific reasons.

"I just do. I didn't have a checklist or anything about the person I wanted to love. I told myself, 'Fuck it, I'll feel it when I meet them.' And I was right. When I met you, I instantly knew you were gonna crawl yourself into my heart and make a home out of it," she speaks in a slow, faint tone, as if she's processing the words herself whilst voicing it out. "Somewhere along the way, it's like I'd somehow written it in the stars that I am to love you as you are to love me. Even when I didn't believe that it came true at one point."

Lisa doesn't know how or what to respond to that, so they just lie face to face in the darkness, letting Jennie's words sink in. The quiet sound of crickets hidden in the shadows and both of their heartbeats thundering through their ears return, making an odd, yet alluring combination; it's both peaceful and soothing. Strangely enough, Lisa's mind still isn't satisfied.

She still has a few more questions, but she resists. Jennie, sensing Lisa's hesitation, because of course she does, gives her an encouraging smile and softly prompts, "Say it, baby. I promise I won't run away." Lisa simpers at the assurance.

(The promise had been their thing ever since they were 18. When Lisa had confessed and Jennie did the first thing that she'd thought of. She ran, because she genuinely believed Lisa had been joking. There was no possible way that the most enthralling force of a woman would love Jennie the way Lisa claimed she did. Her weeks after that day were then spent drowning in regret and sorrow, feeling the burning hole in her heart in the shape of Lisa. And what she did next was such a "Jennie thing" as per Lisa's words. She ran. This time, towards the love of her life. Now seven years later, Jennie is still keeping her promise, because the thought of breaking it and having a life without Lisa looks very much like hell on earth.)

God, she loves this woman so much, it actually hurts.

Lisa takes a few moments to breathe deeply, she can feel her death grip around the tiny box. At this point, Lisa's nerves were getting the best of her that the only thing grounding her was the stupid little jewelry box. She's had the ring for who knows how long, only chickening out on account of her nerves and self-doubts. It's been long overdue, really. These past months, she has been awfully aware of how the words were settled comfortably at the tip of her tongue, always waiting for her to spit it out and get it over with. Whenever she would watch Jennie fuss over her new dress for the dull fancy parties that she always drags Lisa to or how adorably grumpy she would be in Lisa's sweater in the mornings as she leans against Lisa while waiting for her regular dose of caffeine, the younger finds herself startled by how desperately she wanted to get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of their lives together right there and then.