Blanket Of Stars | jensoo

and so it begins...

I leave the light on and lean over her from behind the couch so if she wakes up we won't head butt each other.

From this angle I can see her face perfectly and I have to say, she's beautiful.

The times Jennie has heard me have been when I was angry so I think back to how I felt when I saw Jin's smug face informing me he had a dollar too.

"Wake up," I say directly into her ear, firmly.

My decision to stand behind the couch was for the best, her body lurches forward and I feel bad for scaring her. Her breaths are laboured as she darts her eyes across the room, the faint smell of smoke alerts her senses and she rushes into the kitchen.

I had a similar incident once, similar in the way it's not really similar at all. I pressed the zero button on the microwave one time too many, my popcorn was set to be on for three hours.

Thankfully I remembered seven minutes later when the movie was starting and my hands were empty.

I didn't have the popcorn because it was ruined but atleast I didn't start a fire.

I want to ask her why she'd put a hot pocket in the oven in the middle of the night, when I used to wake up hungry in the night I'd just have cereal, or if I was feeling particularly daring, a sandwich.

She doesn't talk much and she doesn't really go anywhere. I'd tell her to get out more if there were anyplace cool to hang out around here. I'd tell her to get out more if I didn't like her being around me so much.

I pick up the cushion Jennie knocked onto the floor when I startled her and I think that being careful not to scare her hasn't helped me, the only times she ever hears me is when I'm angry or when I speak stronger than I ever usually would. Jin used to tell me that sometimes he had to hold his breath to hear what I was saying. I laughed at him.

I miss him.

Jennie emerges from the kitchen 5 minutes later, the smell of air freshener following her from behind the door.

She frowns at the cushion placed neatly on the couch and blinks tiredly before making her way up the stairs with me a few steps behind her. I like my view.

I rush to get through the door before she closes it, I haven't tested that one out yet. I probably should have done that first but I didn't want to be a cliché.

I probably should have. Everybody is a cliché. Intentional or otherwise. We're so alike, every one of us. Small things are different, living habits, personal preferences over food, but when it comes down to it we all want somebody to notice us, for our lives to be changed, to have that connection with that one person.

My eyes close when she takes off her shirt right infront of me, I can't look, that would be wrong.

I want to, though. My eyelids are twitching.

I really shouldn't look...

The sound of her clothes falling to floor article by article fills the silence in the room, I don't hear her pick them up and fold them. I used to, I couldn't sleep if I knew my room was a mess.

I open my eyes and make sure to keep them at above her neck, the hand infront of my eyes obscuring my view from the rest of her body. She's making it difficult not to look when she keeps suddenly moving. I think she's putting on boxers. Something I'm grateful for, I imagine talking to someone you don't know when you're naked to be awkward.

Especially someone you can't see.

Something black is pulled over her head, her hands pulling it over her torso and covering her abs. I pull my hand back and watch her switch on a lamp before walking back over to me, her hand narrowly missing my shoulder as she flicks the main light off.