Blackpink Imagines

J.k(Competition 3)

It takes a few seconds for Jennie's words to register and by then, the crowd has already began to disperse. Rosé, you soon find after your eyes scan through the throng of restless students and teachers, is nowhere to be found and although worry grips you for a second, you shake it away almost instantly. You're feeling a bundle of mixed emotions right now and adding 'worry' on top of all that would simply be too much for you to handle. Besides, you know Chaeyoung has friends other than yourself, and would handle everything just fine.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath.

You feel Jennie's eyes on you as you jerk yourself out of your stupor and turn to your 'girlfriend' sharply. Her arm is still around your waist and you catch the hurt flickering through her dark eyes when you pull away from her hold...just to grab her wrist in your hand once more.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you-"

You shoot her a dark look and she falls silent immediately, (which happens rarely but you don't have time to savour that moment - instead you file it away somewhere in your mind to enjoy later) allowing you to drag her into an isolated corridor, where you push her against a locker (which, strangely and coincidentally, is her own) and glower at her.

You two seem to have a certain love for slamming each other into walls and lockers.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you hiss, slamming a fist into the wall in frustration. You suppress a wince at the pain, jerking your hand away as you continue to glare at Jennie.

"Asking you out?"

Jennie's voice is even and she stares brazenly into your eyes, but you're not so stupid as to think she's as confident as she seems. You've known her for longer than most and you can see right through her. You notice the nervousness she's hiding, the fear creeping behind her wonderfully beautiful eyes, the way she bites ever so slightly into her bottom lip (god that was doing things to you).

You could also see the way her gaze flickers over to your bruised knuckles, worry flitting across her face.

"Asking me out would imply you're giving me a choice," you say, shoving your hands into your pockets with an exasperated sigh. It is a habit of sorts, but it also serves to hide your hands from view. You don't want to worry Jennie. A contradictory emotion to your sudden urge to deck her in her face, albeit to also kiss her senseless afterwards.

God, you really needed to get your thoughts sorted and in order. What is wrong with you?

You shake your head, as if by doing so, you can shake away your babbling thoughts and continue with what you were saying moments ago. It doesn't really work, but it clears a bit of your mind. "You just proclaimed me to be your girlfriend in front of the whole school. Without my consent. That's not how I define asking someone out."

"You asked me to be your girlfriend. This is my way of answering."

"What?"

"What?"

The words were the same, but both bore entirely different meanings and were spoken in entirely different tones. One was uttered in disbelief and surprise; the other was spoken almost defensively.

You run an agitated hand through your hair. It's not that you don't like Jennie, because god, you love that stupid, wonderfully beautiful idiot to bits and you would do anything to be hers and hers only (and vice versa). But you had been chasing after Jen for ages, pursuing her for months to no avail and when you finally stop because she's clearly showing no signs of ever recuperating your feelings, she suddenly shows interest.

You really want her to like you for who you are. You want to be with her. But you simply can't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she's only doing this because she wants your attention, because she wants you to buy her coffee and do girlfriend things for her and not because she truly likes you.