the twelve months of christmas | JENLISA

chapter 9; august

"Stapler," Jennie instructed, holding out her hand while she stood on a step ladder.

"The day we decided to decorate together was a stroke of genius," Rosé sighed, handing over the stapler and then continuing to organize the folders Jennie needed in her filing cabinet.

"Mhm," Jennie hummed distractedly, hanging the final poster she'd picked up at a second-hand shop last month with Lisa. It was a set of three vintage posters of old book covers that Lisa had assured her would look good.

And she'd been right of course.

"Cool posters," Rosé commented as she labeled each folder for easy access.

"Lisa found them," Jennie replied, getting down from the step ladder and ignoring the way her stomach sank a little when she said her name.

"Why aren't you getting that happy look on your face?" Rosé asked, suddenly alarmed.

"I don't have a look," Jennie argued, moving over to the bookshelf and starting to reorganize the books she'd already organized this morning.

"Usually when you talk about Lisa you're obnoxiously happy, like shitting butterflies happy."

"No, I'm not," Jennie said defensively, aggressively stacking books on a desk.

"Yes, you are," Rosé laughed. "And now you're reorganizing something that was utter perfection a second ago."

Jennie huffed and flexed her hands at her sides. "She's been avoiding me for weeks and I think it's because she slept over and made me waffles and I have no idea what to do," she rushed out, starting to stack books back on the shelf.

"Well, if she made you waffles, the silence probably isn't because of the sleepover. When I slept over at Jisoo's the first time, I was out of there before she could even open her eyes," Rosé admitted sheepishly.

"If she had only gone radio silent for a few days, I'd agree with you. It's been two weeks. We haven't gone two weeks without talking since... last December when we met," Jennie sighed, continuing to stack books in hopes of distracting herself from the pit in her stomach.

"Have you asked Irene?" Rosé asked, her eyebrows scrunching in concern. "Maybe she's sick."

"She's not sick. She's been at work. Irene assured me she's healthy as a horse," Jennie mumbled.

"Well, then why don't we pay her a visit at work?" Rosé huffed, sliding the folders into the filing cabinet and slamming it shut. Jennie shrugged and finished stacking the books, the bookshelf looking the exact same to how it looked before she'd touched it. "We could ambush her at her house."

"Did that. She didn't even open the door. She said she was busy."

"Okay, well, she won't say no to me," Rosé grumbled. "She owes you an explanation. You two are sort of... well, you're exclusive, and she needs to treat her... basically her girlfriend better."

Jennie's head whipped around and she fixed her friend with a look. "We're not dating," voice sharp, an edge and a bite to her words.

"Bullshit," Rosé groaned, tired of this song and dance, one that she was very familiar with. "You spend every waking minute together. You brought her to one of your adult night classes because you wanted to spend time with her. She talks about you non-stop. You have great sex, and you've slept over. You're basically dating. What's the issue? Is she a bad cuddler?"

"She's great- I mean," Jennie replied, her jaw snapping shut. "We're not serious. We didn't go into it looking for anything serious."

"Just because you didn't go into it looking for something serious, doesn't mean the two of you didn't take a different turn while on the road to not serious," Rosé sighed while she reached out for her friend's hand.