i know, you know, we know

Chapter 15

Lisa wakes to fingers gliding into her hair, lips pressing a barely-there kiss on her forehead, a tender whisper of what might be her name. She inhales deeply in response, still too sleepy to return the affection that leaves a pleasant warmth in her belly, eyelids still too heavy to greet the new day. The sheets brush softly against her skin, sliding and shifting with the slow and quiet movements from beside her. She feels an arm wrap gently around her waist, neither pulling nor pushing, its weight comforting atop her groggy bones. It all leaves her feeling like she's dreaming of something immeasurably tender and delicate, and she dips into consciousness just long enough to recognize a scent that reminds her of kindness and home and love.

Jennie.

The name tugs gently at her heartstrings, and Lisa follows the direction of the pull, nuzzling the silk sheets until her nose skims skin, the scent surrounding her, wrapping her, holding her in place right between dreams and reality. She feels sleep-warmed skin graze her body and her heart gives a little tug again. Lisa surrenders to it, pressing ever so slightly closer. The arm around her waist holds her closer in response, and she feels another whisper of a kiss, this time pressed against the top of her head.

For a moment, everything stills. Lisa basks in the quiet, melting against the body holding hers, heartbeat calm and slow, chest light and airy. The morning is patient, and Lisa doesn't rush to wake; it feels like she's at the center of the universe, like she has all the time in the world. Jennie traces light patterns on her shoulder, kisses her again like she can't help it. Lisa's heart gives a sleepy but happy hum, and she presses herself closer, tucking a small smile in the crook of Jennie's neck.

"I love you," she hears Jennie murmur as if it's only for the morning to witness. A secret sighed into the gentle glow of a waking world. A confession uttered in nothing but quiet awe.

Lisa lets the words settle like a warm blanket over her body, wanting to keep the moment in her pocket for her to take wherever she goes. She breathes, slow and deep, and when she starts to feel a little more awake and a little less weightless, she lifts her chin, lips searching for skin.

"Love you," she whispers, words deeply felt and muffled against Jennie's neck.

There's a soft inhale somewhere above her like it still surprises Jennie, like it's still something new, like it still takes her breath away. She feels a hand cup her cheek, the touch soft and warm and careful as if she's something fragile, and it coaxes her from the comfort of Jennie's neck. Lisa doesn't resist, and when she feels cracked but adoring lips press against hers, she feels happiness, warmth, and love all the way down to the soles of her feet.

Jennie doesn't deepen the kiss but lingers for a heartbeat or two. Lisa slips her arms around her waist when she pulls back, wanting her closer and smiling when Jennie follows the motion easily. Legs and arms and souls entangle, faces tucking into each other's necks, hands and toes and heartstrings curling around everything that matters.

"Good morning," Lisa sighs softly, slowly, fondly.

Jennie shifts impossibly closer. "Good morning, Lili."

"You okay?"

Jennie gives a soft hum, the sound almost too quiet to be heard. "I'm happy. You make me so happy."

Lisa's breath gets caught somewhere in between elated laughter and awestruck tears. Something inexplicable and deep and alive blooms in her chest, and she can't tell if it's pride or love or pure, unadulterated happiness, but she knows that it tastes sweet at the tip of her tongue, knows that it's because of Jennie, knows that it's something special. For one incredibly selfish moment, she wonders if it's really okay to want what they have forever.