Knocking loudly on the door, Jennie stood underneath the shaded roof of the porch, staring at the white wooden door, the paint peeling slightly, and breathed in the smell of the flowering, overgrown garden behind her. Her pink bike was leaning against the pale grey wooden slats of the house, and her bag was slung over one shoulder as she patiently listened for the slow footsteps walking downstairs, before the rattling sound of the chain being drawn back reached her ears, followed by the turning of a lock and the squeak as the door was finally pulled open.
"Expecting a break-in, Beethoven?" Jennie asked, a look of mild amusement.
"Ah, Jendeuk," Jisoo dryly greeted her, stepping aside, a look of mirth in her eyes, "would you like to come in?"
Brushing past her, Jennie quietly laughed at the new nickname, hanging her bag and her jacket up on one of the coat hooks near the door, listening to Jisoo shut the door - this time foregoing the locks - plunging them into darkness. Without the bright sunlight and balmy weather inviting itself inside, Jennie shivered slightly in the hallway, her bare arms rippling with goosebumps, and peered around the gloomy place.
"A blind woman living alone makes for an easy target if you can't defend yourself," Jisoo smoothly explained, stepping past Jennie as if she could clearly see where she was standing.
Following her down the hallway, squinting as she tried to make out the dark outline of Jisoo in the dark, Jennie's eyebrows rose slightly. Auckland wasn't a big town, and it certainly wasn't a troublesome town - for her - and she couldn't help but wonder what it was like for a blind woman. A woman who couldn't see if someone was following her home at a distance, or if they were waiting in alleyways late at night to jump her and steal her money. She wondered if that was why Jisoo didn't go outside very often; people must take advantage of her and thought her blindness made her incapable, but Jennie knew better than to underestimate her. "Are people bothering you?" Jennie haltingly asked, frowning slightly as she followed Jisoo down the hallway.
She almost bumped into her when Jisoo abruptly stopped, listening to the sound of her hand brushing against the wall, until a click sounded and the kitchen was plunged into light - for Jennie's benefit. Jisoo carried on walking into the kitchen, her movements surefooted and surprisingly graceful, filling the silver kettle up with water, pulling two floral teacups from the cupboards and lining them up on the counter. "No, it's just kids being harmless. Knocking on my door to try and get me to answer. Throwing rocks at the shutters," Jisoo sighed, "it's irritating more than anything. I'm just cautious though."
A disapproving look flickered across Jennie's face, and she pressed her lips together in a grim line. "Can I help you with anything?"
"You could sit down," Jisoo laughed, looking in Jennie's direction, her sightless eyes drifting past where Jennie was standing.
"I meant-"
"I know what you meant," Jisoo curtly replied, "but come on, I'm practically the town's Boo Radley. I half brought it on myself by becoming such a recluse."
Softly sighing, Jennie walked over to the table and pulled a chair out, making sure it didn't screech across the tiles, and sat down. Looking at Jisoo, she couldn't help the small smile that curled the corners of her lips - skin so pale that it was almost translucent, lavender shadows beneath her eyes that might not have been so noticeable if she'd had a bit of colour in her cheeks, dark hair falling down to her lower back in soft waves that made her seem well suited to shadows and hiding away as she hunched her shoulders slightly. She had the look of someone who was used to staying indoors - perhaps almost craved the solitude it brought her. "Well, you certainly look like him. A few more years and you'll be a bonafide hermit. In twenty, you might even become a legend around town. They'll be saying you're a witch who kidnaps little kids from the forest, and drowns them in the sea on a full moon."
Letting out a loud laugh, Jisoo smiled as she shook her head, drifting over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of milk. "Well that sounds like a lot of hard work. They have high expectations for a blind woman," Jisoo mused, "I'm not sure I could be bothered with the fuss of it all, to be honest, but my mother did always say I lack my family's drive to challenge myself. To reach my full potential."
"Well based on the sound of your piano playing, I don't think that's true. The piece last night was beautiful," Jennie softly told her, the melody she'd heard drifting towards her on the beach coming back to her. It had been a gentle song, and it had taken Jisoo a few trials and errors before she'd perfected it, and Jennie had stayed to listen to her play it all the way through three times before she'd gone home for dinner.
"I wondered if you were listening," Jisoo murmured, filling the cups with boiling water and adding a splash of milk. Jennie noticed that she was smiling slightly, gently biting her lower lip as if she was trying to hold it back, and she smiled in response, watching as Jisoo finished making the tea and slowly carried both cups over to the table. Reaching for two coasters, Jennie gently placed a hand on one of Jisoo's hands, causing the other woman to jump, coming perilously close to spilling tea everywhere as it sloshed inside the cup, and took the tea off her, setting it down on the coaster. Gently taking Jisoo's hand in her own, marvelling at the softness of her long, slender fingers - she definitely had hands made for playing the piano - Jennie placed it on the other coaster so that Jisoo didn't have to fumble around for it. "Thank you," Jisoo murmured, the expression on her face unreadable as she sank down onto a chair, "so, what'd you think?"
Tilting her head to the side as she observed her, flushing slightly as Jisoo stared back at her with her piercing eyes, Jennie smiled, "about the song? It was ... breathtaking."
Jisoo pursed her lips slightly, before she nodded, "okay."
"Okay?" Jennie laughed, "what, you don't think so?"
"Well ... I just play what gets stuck in my head. I've never had much feedback on my playing. Not since I was still taking lessons," Jisoo shrugged, "it's unusual, but I'm glad I can have someone who's objective. You probably feel the same with your writing."
A wry smile crossed Jennie's face, "well my sister and friends weren't very objective; they were more ... supportive."
"Rightly so," Jisoo said, taking a sip of her tea, "I loved your article about that entertainment company and the mistreatment of their trainees. That's something the public should be aware of."
Jennie choked on the sip of tea she'd just taken, coughing as she quickly set her cup back down, "you read my articles?"
Quietly laughing, Jisoo shrugged, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as a dimple appeared in one slightly pink cheek. "I was curious when you said you were a writer. I looked you up. I thought you said you weren't a journalist."
"I'm not anymore," Jennie haltingly replied, wincing slightly. She didn't want to tell Jisoo she'd been fired - they barely knew each other, which didn't diminish the fact that they got along well, but it didn't mean they were ready to spill their whole life stories to each other - and she cleared her throat as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It's, uh, well ... I worked for a magazine in Seoul for a while ... which you obviously know because that's where the article was printed."
"Mm," Jisoo murmured, "well personally, I loved it."
Jennie laughed, shaking her head as she smiled down at her lap, before peeking up at Jisoo. "Why? Do you have a personal vendetta against the company?"
"Yes," Jisoo replied, a wry smile on her lips as she looked at Jennie, "the CEO and I have our differences."
"Oh," Jennie murmured, unsure of what to say. She didn't want to ask what kind of business Jisoo was in to have crossed paths with the CEO. "I've never met her. I tried to schedule an interview, but she's a tough woman to get ahold of. Apparently she didn't have enough time, so I managed to get ahold of the company's CFO instead."
Some unreadable expression flickered in the depths of Jisoo's eyes, and Jennie tilted her head to the side as she watched her with interest. "Yeah, that sounds like her," Jisoo muttered, "no time for anyone but herself. At least you didn't get bullied into pulling your punches in the article. I'm surprised she didn't ruin your life after it was published though. She's a ruthless woman when it comes to her business."
Jennie let out a quick laugh, thinking about how there was nothing left to ruin now - she'd ruined it herself - and she sighed. "Well, I'm sure anyone would be protective over what they've worked hard on."
Shrugging, Jisoo abruptly climbed to her feet, making Jennie wonder if she'd said something wrong, walking over to a cupboard and fumbling inside, before she walked back over to the table with a packet of biscuits and set them down on the table, nudging them towards Jennie. "Tea is always better with biscuits," she murmured, sitting back down.
Eyebrows rising slightly, Jennie gave her an amused look, pulling a crumbling shortbread biscuit out of the packet and placing it beside Jisoo's hand, so the blue plastic wrapper was brushing her skin, and watched as Jisoo deftly pulled one out, taking a demure bite as she stared unblinkingly at Jennie. The silence stretched on for a few moments, and Jennie fumbled, finding herself tongue-tied in Jisoo's presence, despite the calm and relaxed manner of the other woman, leaning back in her chair, the skirts of her purple dress neatly splayed across her thighs.
"So, uh, how old were you when you started playing piano?" Jennie asked.
"Three," Jisoo replied, "how old were you when you started writing?"
Jennie paused for a moment, a pained smile on her face, before she answered, "thirteen."
"You sound upset about that," Jisoo pointed out, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she stared intently at Jennie, almost as if she was trying to see the expression on her face.
Closing her eyes, Jennie drew in a shaky breath and sighed, running her fingertip around the rim of her cup as her eyelids fluttered open. She could feel Jisoo's eyes on her, even though she knew Jisoo wasn't actually looking at her, and felt pressured to say something - anything - so that they could move past it. "My parents died then. I didn't- my writing didn't come from a good place. It wasn't something I enjoyed doing ... I just- I had to. I had to do something."
"Then why do you write now?" Jisoo asked, her curiosity evident on her face as she slowly reached out for the packet of biscuits, and Jennie prodded it towards her until her hand brushed against it.
"I write because nobody listens," Jennie sighed, sounding weary as she sank down in her chair, "not that it does any good. I doubt my words have ever made anyone stop and listen."
A faint smile appeared on Jisoo's lips, lighting up her eyes slightly, "they made me stop and listen."
"That was just a stupid story," Jennie mumbled, her cheeks turning red as she ran a hand through her hair, "no one cares about anything real. My articles are about as useful as a chocolate watch when it comes to making people pay attention to the real world."
"Well, all watches are useless to me, so," Jisoo shrugged, and Jennie let out a surprised laugh, her eyebrows rising slightly as her face lit up with a smile.
"You're quite strange," Jennie said, giving Jisoo a warily amused look as she reached for another biscuit.
Delicately arching an eyebrow, Jisoo's lips turned down slightly at the corners, and she cocked her head to the side, "because I can't see?"
Sighing, Jennie rolled her eyes, "no, I'm talking personality wise, not physically. You just ... you're witty and sharp, and I like that. People tend not to be so forward these days and they care more about looks than they care about people. You don't seem like a shallow person, and you're more upfront. I like it."
Draining her cup of tea, Jisoo climbed to her feet and carried her cup to the sink, before beckoning for Jennie to follow after her. Quickly draining her own cup, she climbed to her feet and followed after her, back down the hallway, which was bathed in a soft yellow light flooding in from the kitchen behind them. She watched as Jisoo grabbed hold of the bannister lining the staircase and began to walk upstairs, her footsteps echoing in the quiet house, and Jennie walked closely behind her. There were no photos on the walls, and with grim realisation, Jennie became aware of the fact that there was no one here to look at photos. Only Jisoo, who couldn't. It explained the bareness of the place, from what she had seen so far. The only personal touches she'd seen so far were the small pots of herbs lining the windowsill above the kitchen sink, and it was some small miracle that they were still alive, what with the shuttered windows and the general darkness of the house.
Upstairs, Jisoo opened a white wooden door leading into a dark room and walked inside, hesitating for a second before she turned around. "I'm not sure where the lightswitch is in here."
Letting out a quick laugh, Jennie fumbled along the wall, and at the flick of a switch the room flooded with light, revealing a spacious bathroom. Unsure of what they were doing in there, she hovered inside the doorway, taking in the large shower, the row of counters with a big sink and a neat row of moisturisers and perfumes. It was all white and grey and the marble floor spoke of Jisoo's wealth, although Jennie hadn't picked up on it before. It didn't show in the way she dressed, and it didn't show in her behaviours or the peeling paint of her house, but the sheer size of it for one woman, who for all Jennie knew was unemployed, should've tipped her off about her obvious wealth. Instead, it had been the mention of the CEO, CL, and now Jennie couldn't help but wonder about what Jisoo did. Pushing her questions aside for the time being, she took a cautious step inside, watching as Jisoo turned and stared into the massive mirror above the sink.
"Come here," Jisoo told her, and Jennie quickly crossed over to her, standing beside her and looking down with a confused look on her face. Oblivious, Jisoo continued, her eyes sightlessly trained onto her reflection in the mirror. "Look."
"At what?"
"The mirror."
"Okay," Jennie hesitantly laughed, staring into her own eyes and grimacing at her lipstick, which had been half worn away, probably ringing the rim of her teacup downstairs.
Jisoo smiled - to herself, Jennie assumed - and turned her head slightly in Jennie's direction. "What do you see?"
Frowning, Jennie looked at Jisoo, "myself?"
"Yeah, but what about yourself?" Jisoo asked, giving her an exasperated look that made Jennie want to laugh again.
Turning back to the mirror, she saw herself biting her lip, her lips turned up at the corners and her eyes crinkling. "My lipstick is messed up from the tea. My hair is tangled because of the bike ride over here. I've got a little scar just above my left eyebrow - I hate that scar - and I can see that too."
"See? It's impossible not to care about how you look, even if you're not shallow - and you don't strike me as a shallow person," Jisoo laughed, walking towards the counters and bracing herself against them. She reached up with one hand and gently pressed the fingertips of her right hand against the mirror, and in her reflection, Jennie saw a flicker of pain, but Jisoo whirled around just as quickly, leaning back against it as she stared in Jennie's direction. "I'm not shallow, I just can't see myself so I don't have to give a shit about how I look. But god I used to. I was so vain. So shallow and snobby. I come from big money, and I was spoilt. Not with a loving family, but I had everything I could ever want. I was perfect back then - I was thirteen when I went blind - old enough to know that I could sweet talk my way out of trouble, and if that didn't work, my mom would bail me out with money."
"Going blind ... well to say that was the shock of a lifetime would be an understatement. But it put things into perspective," she laughed, the sound bitter and humourless, and Jennie flinched slightly, standing there in silence, "I didn't give a shit after that. I guess somewhere along the way, that somehow meant that I wasn't shallow anymore."
"I'm sorry," Jennie murmured when Jisoo fell silent.
Turning back around to face the mirror, Jisoo braced herself against the counters, her dark hair falling into her face, but Jennie still saw the way her face tightened. "Yeah, well, unless your name's Chaelin, you have nothing to be sorry for," Jisoo muttered, using Jennie's words from the day on the beach.
"Chaelin," Jennie hesitantly echoed, wondering if Jisoo meant Lee Chaelin.
"My mother," Jisoo curtly replied, "well, adoptive mother, turned step-mother. Whatever she is, she's my mom."
Jisoo pushed herself off the counters and brushed past Jennie, her hand gently grazing Jennie's, making her pause for a moment, before she walked out into the dark hallway. Jennie followed behind, switching the light off and closing the bathroom door, before she followed Jisoo down the hallway, her footsteps loud on the wooden floor, compared to the quiet padding of Jisoo's bare feet. She was surprised they didn't go back downstairs, and Jennie smiled when the light was turned on in the room Jisoo brought them to, revealing a large black grand piano dominating the far side of the room. The big windows were still shuttered, but the room felt big and open, the piano drawing Jennie towards it like a magnet. Jisoo took a seat on the dark leather sofa pushed up against the wall on the other side of the room though, and Jennie followed after her, leaving a small gap between them as they sat down.
"So, any questions yet?" Jisoo asked, giving Jennie a wry smile, "or are you still insisting on not being invasive?"
"Hm, well I do have questions, but it's a yes to not being invasive."
"Hmph, well, I guess I'll ask one then," Jisoo said, pursing her lips slightly as she stared at Jennie.
Freezing as if she'd been caught in a spotlight, Jennie blinked in surprise, her hands subconsciously curling into fists, leaving crescent moon shapes on her palms. She wouldn't like - she was a terrible liar - but she also didn't really want to get into the thick of things with someone she barely knew. "Shoot."
"What do you look like?" Jisoo asked, sounding curious as she frowned slightly, her head tilting to the side. "Seeing as you're the only person I've had a long conversation with who hasn't asked if I want to feel their face."
"Oh," Jennie quietly exclaimed, blinking in surprise. Whatever question she'd been expecting Jisoo to ask, it wasn't that, and she stumbled slightly, realising that she'd never had to explain her looks to someone before. Usually she had to explain her interests and hobbies, not her looks. "Um ... I've got brown hair. I've got brown eyes. Five foot three. Twenty-three, but I'm told that I'm very naive so people tend to think I'm younger. I, uh, yeah, I've got that scar I told you about. I wear glasses too, so that's ... yeah. Um, that's about it."
Jisoo listened with rapt attention, drinking in the details, and her eyes fluttered closed, her dark lashes brushing her cheeks, and Jennie smiled slightly, wondering if she was trying to imagine what Jennie looked like in her mind's eye. And then they opened again, and she was staring at Jennie with her piercing eyes, lips curled up into a smile and a slightly arched eyebrow.
"Are you pretty?"
"Well, I, uh-"
"Yes or no. You're allowed to think you're pretty. I mean, I know I was pretty, but god knows what I look like now. I like to imagine that I'm still pretty though."
A loud laugh fell unbidden from Jennie's lips as she gave Jisoo an incredulous look. The least of what Jisoo was was pretty - it seemed like a plain compliment to pay her - and Jennie stared at her with wonder, taking in the prominent cheekbones, the thick eyebrows, perfectly bowed lips and the sharp jawline. And then there were her eyes, looking as deep as the sea on a pale summer's day, and Jennie didn't think twice before she spoke.
"You're actually the most beautiful person I've ever seen," she blurted out before she could stop herself, freezing with her mouth open as she felt the blood rush to her face, turning bright red.
"Well ... thank you," Jisoo said, biting her lip as she tried not to smile, "I'd return the compliment but well ... I'm blind."
Nervously laughing, Jennie ducked her head down, fiddling with her glasses as she tried to escape Jisoo's intense stare. "No problem," she meekly replied, her cheeks still slightly rosy.
"So, are you or aren't you?"
Hesitating, Jennie shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I guess so."
"So, pretty, smart, funny, kind ... what the fuck was your asshole ex thinking?" Jisoo asked, giving her a soft smile.
"Yeah, well, that's just one of my many mistakes," Jennie sighed, "my sister wasn't very fond of him. I think I should've trusted her judgement - she's a detective."
"Older or younger?"
"Older."
Jisoo let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly, "yeah, older siblings have the annoying tendency of being right about things all the time."
"Brother or sister?" Jennie asked, venturing a question.
"Brother," Jisoo curtly replied, giving her a tight smile, "now, how about that story you came here to tell me?"
Blowing all the air out of her lungs, Jennie let her eyes wander around the room, taking in the stack of books on an end table beside the arm of the sofa, their spines holding a smatter of dots - braille, Jennie realised - and she drummed her finger on the arm of the leather sofa.
"Okay, well seeing as you don't know much about the town's history, there's this one I heard when I first moved here, about this man who used to live in a house a few miles outside the town limits. He used to go hunting all the time, and he had this big dog - I think it was a German Shepherd - and like, he really loved this dog. He got married and they had a kid, but he always had this dog too. One day, in the middle of winter, he went hunting and left his dog at home, only to come home to find his wife not home. Turns out she left him, but that's another story. So he goes into his house, and there's his dog with his muzzle covered in blood. So at this point the man's a bit wary because his wife clearly isn't home, so he went upstairs and into the baby's nursery, finding the door already ajar. When he goes in there, the baby's crib is overturned, the room's a mess, and there's no baby. He still had his shotgun with him and his dog had followed him upstairs, tail wagging and happy to see his master, but instead of a scratch behind his ears, he ate a bullet instead. Shotgun's ... well, their bullets spray, so it wasn't a pretty sight, and it was loud too, and at the loud shot, a baby started crying, frightened by the sound. The man paused, and looked around the room, and beneath one of the blankets that had fallen out of the crib was his baby. Behind one of the torn down curtains was a wolf. Turns out the wife had packed her bags and left the door open when she bailed. The wolf invited itself inside, and of course, it was starving from the winter, and a small defenceless baby was the perfect target, only the German Shepherd was there to protect it. The dog killed the wolf, the man killed the dog, and then he spent the rest of his life feeling guilty about it."
Jisoo was silent for a few moments, her forehead scrunched with surprise as she pondered over the story. Eventually she smiled at Jennie, "real or fake?"
"Real," Jennie smiled, "always real."
"Hm, it's a bit morbid," Jisoo hummed, "interesting though. I didn't realise I was living in such an interesting place. I mean, not that I would know. I leave my house once a week for groceries, so it's not like I'm in the business of socialising."
"Once a week? So that's where your tan came from, huh?" Jennie snorted.
Jisoo arched an eyebrow at her, "I have a tan?"
"Ah, well, no, you- you don't," Jennie explained, giving her a sheepish look, "as a matter of fact, if you got any paler, you could probably bli-"
Pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing, Jisoo raised her eyebrows expectantly, "blind someone? Wouldn't that be ironic."
She gave Jennie a wry smile and climbed to her feet, waving away Jennie's attempts to apologise for speaking without thinking. She didn't realise how easy it was to put her foot in it, and while Jisoo didn't take offence to her blunders, it still made Jennie wince slightly, knowing that she'd said something that could've been insensitive if she'd said it to the wrong blind person. Jisoo had a dry sense of humour though, and was more than willing to poke fun at her own blindness, if only because she knew it made Jennie squirm as she stumbled over her apologies. As a pale hand was extended towards her, Jennie fell quiet, blinking in surprise as she slowly reached out and put her hand in Jisoo's, letting herself be pulled to her feet. The warmth of those slender fingers was gone almost instantly, and Jennie followed her over to the piano, watching as Jisoo sat down before it and pushed up the fall board, exposing a row of ivory keys, interspersed with smaller ebony ones. Patting the space beside her, Jisoo looked up at Jennie, a soft look on her face, and Jennie practically fell onto the bench beside her, the warmth of Jisoo radiating off her skin. There was a small freckle on her neck and Jennie watched it bob up and down as Jisoo swallowed, giving her a hesitant smile.
"Well, here's my end of the bargain," Jisoo told her.
And then she reached out for the keys, her fingers easily falling into place on the familiar keys, and Jennie watched open-mouthed as they began to move, first softly and slowly, but then quicker as the song progressed, her foot pushing down on the pedals. Her hands were blurs, and her long fingers were splayed across the keys, moving so fast that Jennie could hardly believe only two hands were producing the music. And the music - god, the music was heartbreakingly and gut wrenchingly beautiful, and Jennie barely dared to breathe, feeling as if the very air in her lungs had been stolen from her. It was one thing to hear the distant noted drifting towards her on the beach, but to be beside Jisoo, watching her furrow her brows in concentration, her eyes blankly staring at her hands as they seemed to move of their own accord ... it was magical. Jennie could hardly believe that Jisoo had written it herself, or that she played it all from her memory, without faltering, the place where sheet music ordinarily would sit empty. By the time the song ended, with a few notes still lingering in the air as they faded, Jennie's eyes were wide, and she'd long since stopped staring at Jisoo's hands, choosing to observe the way she hunched her shoulders, her head bowed and her eyes closed as she listened. That was the thing that struck Jennie the most; she didn't have to see for this, she closed her eyes and listened, and Jennie could see the pure unadulterated elation on Jisoo's face as she played, feeling every note that she was playing. She loved this - it was what she was good at - and Jennie's heart felt tight as she watched her.
When Jisoo's hands limply fell from the keys and her head came back up, eyelids parting to reveal green eyes, Jennie couldn't do anything but stare at her, dumbfounded by the sheer beauty she'd just witnessed. Struggling to find the words, Jennie opened and closed her mouth a few times, before she managed to make something come out. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life," she earnestly told Jisii.
Bursting into laughter, Jisoo's eyes sparkled with humour as she reached out to let the fall board fall back over the keys, and Jennie almost wanted to stop her, to beg her for another song, and felt a small flicker of disappointment when Jisoo climbed to her feet again, her fingers gently brushing against Jennie's arm. "You're too kind."
"I'm being serious," Jennie murmured, climbing to her feet, "why don't you record them? I'm sure other people would love to hear this."
"I'm not much interested in being for sale," Jisoo shrugged, "I'm quite happy with my life here. This is it for me."
"Oh," Jennie murmured, looking around at the spacious room, wondering when the last time the shutters had been opened, and thinking about how this was probably the first time the lights had been switched on in there since the room had been decorated. It was almost sad to think about Jisoo living the rest of her life in the dark room, the air stuffy and filled with the sound of music that no one else would ever hear. It wasn't Jennie's place to convince her though, and she held her tongue as she filed out of the room after Jisoo.
She stayed a while longer, chatting with Jisoo about themselves - just harmless facts - finding that time slipped by too quickly when they were lost in conversation. Jisoo liked to talk with her hands a lot, and her face was so expressive that Jennie couldn't help but smile as she animatedly explained about how not long before she'd become blind, she'd been at tennis practice and had run into the a jagged piece of wire sticking out from the chainlink fence, narrowly missing her eye and leaving a small scar beneath her right eyebrow. The wry twist of Jisoo's lips let Jennie know that she thought it was ironic, and Jennie thought about that smile the whole way home, and later on that evening, when she sat down to write, she couldn't envision the character she'd been writing, because big brown eyes, long, slender fingers, and lips that were so quick to quirk up into a sarcastic smile, kept drifting across her mind, accompanied by the sound of the melody Jisoo had played for her. In the end, she gave up any pretense of trying to write and just stared out of the kitchen window, looking at the dark trees and the sliver of the moon that was just visible. Even the sound of the crashing waves couldn't chase away the sound of the music in her ears, and the sights couldn't rid her of the image of a figure hunched over a piano, pouring her heart into her music, that seemed to be painted inside her eyelids.