Jennie
Louis doesn't budge from Lisa's lap. I lose the desire to continue faking my love for the beastly thing and instead focus my attention on the TV, flipping through the channels. I simultaneously praise and curse Hae-in, knowing that Louis is keeping me a safe distance from Lisa but hating it for that very thing.
I find a King of Queens rerun and we begin to watch, chatting lightly again about past stories and experiences. I feel as though I'm learning more about Lisa tonight than I have in all the time I've known her. I greedily drink in every word.
Louis eventually falls asleep. I watch Lisa out of the corner of my eye, my heart fluttering every time I catch her looking at me. She doesn't realize I can see her and finally, when she is openly caught, we both exchange small smiles before my face heats and I divert my gaze.
I've inched so close to her on the couch that our thighs are touching. But nothing more. Finally, I'm exasperated with the cat situation. I peel myself from the couch and head for the kitchen, stealthily searching the fridge until I find a cold beer. I sigh loudly so that Lisa can hear.
"Lisa, will you come here for a second?"
It takes her a moment, but eventually she pries herself from underneath Louis and follows me into the kitchen. I see Louis stalk off in the direction of my bedroom and I silently rejoice.
"What's wrong?" she asks me, frowning.
I hold out my beer pathetically. "Can you please open this? It always hurts my hand."
"Oh, sure." she takes it from me and opens it easily, looking pleased. I refrain from rolling my eyes at the obvious masculinity boost I just gave her.
"Want one?"
"I'm good," she declines. Just as suspected, she has hair all over her shirt and jeans. Huge clumps of it. I don't think she's noticed.
"You're hairy," I laugh. I instinctively reach out to wipe the hair away, realizing too late that I'm brushing close to the danger zone as I do. I don't notice this until Lisa flinches and backs away, out of the reach of my hand.
I pull back like I've been shocked. "Sorry!" I exclaim, wide-eyed. Lisa's expression matches my own. "It's fine," she mutters. She coughs into her hand and looks away.
Awkwardness ensues. I chug my beer, my face hot enough to warm the kitchen, and pray that Lisa will say something to put me out of my graceless misery.
She watches me, her brow creased in worry. "Are you okay?"
I nod. Half my beer is gone. And I never even wanted a beer! I just wanted that damn cat to give us some alone time.
"I'm fine."
We slowly make our way back to the living room, the air around us thinning only slightly. Lisa seems to have just realized exactly how much cat hair is on her jeans as she's taken to fussing over it.
I wonder if this incident refers to rule number two - if Louis is really shedding because he needs to be fed again - but I don't comment and wisely nurse my beer in silence, trying very hard to look anywhere except there.
She curses. "Your entire apartment is going to be covered in hair. Did you just get Louis?"
"Yeah. Today," I confirm.
Lisa mumbles something, and I suspect it's a very disgruntled, "Good luck with that."
She finally settles down, obviously not content with her current hairy predicament but resigned nonetheless. I scoot closer to her and she eases when she sees me approach, instinctively lifting her arm and wrapping it around my shoulder.
I instantly melt against her side. I think of apologizing about the hair. And for touching her crotch. But I reconsider on both accounts.
She turns her head and buries her nose in my hair. Suddenly she's inhaling deeply, causing the familiar tingle to course through my body. I swear I can even feel it in my toes. I turn my head towards her, hoping to catch her gaze, but she misreads my intentions, and I soon feel her lips pressed softly against mine. I quickly pull my face from hers and turn to stare at my hands, my mind swimming with a million thoughts and probabilities and scenarios.
I want her to kiss me. I want it so badly. But I know that I shouldn't want it, and this stops me. At least for the moment.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, and she leans away from me - back to his spot - rejected.
I know I'm running hot and cold. This is surely a much more painful type of torture - it certainly is to me, at least. But I'm not sure what to do about it.
"You didn't do anything," I mutter quietly. She doesn't look convinced.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." And to prove it, I grab her face in my hand and pull her lips back to mine.
Fuck being reasonable. Fuck being smart. I'm allowed to kiss my cute date - Jisoo even said so herself, at one point. It's not like I'll actually do anything with Lisa.
Not that kind of anything.
Lisa responds eagerly, as if she's been waiting for this type of initiation, and before I know it she's pushing me back again, against the armrest. She hovers over me, her knee between my thighs, and her tongue touches mine, slow and caressing and delicious. I grab a thick wad of her shirt and pull her hard against me.
Her searing kiss leaves my thoughts cloudy. I refocus, knowing I can do this. I can stop when it becomes too much. I can stop.
She trails kisses from my jaw to my ear, down my neck, across my collar bone. She nips and sucks my skin and I moan embarrassingly loud. I can feel her smile against me.
I'm practically panting with desire as her fingers skim the skin of my belly, pushing my shirt up. I don't protest when those same fingers reach the fabric of my bra. I don't protest when my body automatically sits up to remove the offending garment. I can stop.
I can stop.
Lisa is kissing my chest, my stomach, the swell of my breasts. Any skin she can reach. Her lips reach my neck again and her breath is hot and moist in my ear.
"God, I want you."
