The Fault in Our Sunrise (A JenSoo Fanfic)

iii.

One thing about Jennie is that she loves sunrises. She loves waking up at 4 am and making coffee. She loves putting on a hoodie and stepping out to the balcony to wait.

She loves to sip her coffee while watching the sky turn from pitch-black to having streaks of blue.

She loves when the first light of the day finally reveals itself, promising a new beginning. Hope.

She loves to feel the cold morning breeze to her cheeks.

And I love to see it all. I love seeing her fall in love with sunrise. I love when the wind blows her hair in the morning. I love when the first light of day reflects in her eyes.

Jennie Kim is my sunrise. To me, she is hope.

Even now, when she says another woman's name, she is my sunrise.

I wish I could say I cursed Jennie Kim using all of the curse words known to humankind as soon as I heard the name. I wish I could say I clawed her eyes out of their sockets out of hatred.

But the truth is, she could pull my poor heart out of my chest and it would still beat just for her.

"Wendy, huh?" I ask with a chuckle after a long stretch of silence. "As in the girl on the logo of a fast food restaurant?"

Jennie and I laugh. And even though my heart is aching at the idea of Jennie Kim being in love with someone else, it's still a good laugh.

"Seriously though," I say, clearing my throat. "How did it happen?"

"Honestly? It just did. We kind of just clicked the moment we met, you know? Kinda like the two of us."

I force a small smile, thinking of the look Jennie would've had on her face the first time she met Wendy.

I imagine Jennie's smile when she saw Lisa. They weren't really close back in college; Lisa thought Jennie was loud, and Jennie thought Lisa was messy.

Knowing my best friend, she wouldn't have looked at the Thai if her attention wasn't called. Lisa must have been the one who made the first move to approach her and say hi.

I imagine Wendy to be sporting a bob cut and wearing a plain white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. She probably likes Doc Martens. She probably sings or plays some instruments, or both.

I think of her as a female version of every guy Jennie dated in the past. Jennie has a type and she sticks to it.

My stomach clenches at the idea of them shaking hands, their skin touching for the first time ever. Jennie must have felt a spark.

I feel a sting on my chest as I imagine the smile on her face upon hearing Wendy's name for the first time ever.

"You know what's funny?" my best friend asks, bringing me back to reality. "Right from the moment I first talked to her, she reminded me of you. It's like meeting you in the form of another human being, you know? Like finding myself right here with you, my home."

I can't help but laugh; she's being serious right now, so she doesn't appreciate it.

She doesn't know, though, that this laugh masks the pain that I feel down to the very core of my being.

I do find it funny; I have been around her for what seems to be her whole life. Not once did she ever look at me as anything more than her best friend.

And she meets this girl — who sounds absolutely nothing like me — she meets this girl in Thailand of all places, and just decides that she reminds her of me, and suddenly she loves her.

I feel like I'd been slapped in either side of my face.

I'm not a religious person, but some people say God is the author of our lives. If this is true then I must not be His favorite character.

"What are your thoughts?" Jennie asks.

I clear my throat in a desperate attempt to stop myself from crying. "It's funny."

"What's funny?"

This. Everything about this is funny, I want to say.

I want to shout to the void. I want to shake Jennie harshly. I want to scream I'M HERE right to her face. Just in case she missed it.

It takes every fiber in my being to stop myself from doing so.

I hide my hands behind me just to make sure I wouldn't shake her violently. "I don't know, Jen. I just..."

Great. Here is the woman I would've followed to the ends of the Earth. She just told me she's in love with someone else, and I can't even confess my feelings.

"You didn't expect it, right? You thought I was straight."

"No. It's not that. To be honest, I kind of knew."

She arches a brow at me. "Was it always so obvious?"

"Well, not really. But I guess I've just known you inside and out. I know things even when you don't say them."

She lays her head on my shoulder and fixes her gaze on the first light of the day. "Yeah, I get that. That's how I am with you, too. I know things. Even the ones you've yet to tell me."

I don't doubt her one bit. This woman knows me better than I even know myself.

But despite everything she knows about me, there is just one thing that she doesn't. I couldn't say it before because I was a coward, and I can't say it now.

Even if I worked out the courage right now to say it, I'm afraid it's too late.

I'm glad she can't see my face right now. I can silently cry while having my worst fear realized: for Jennie to eventually love someone and it'd be too late for me to confess about how I truly feel for her.

Even now that she's hurting me without even the slightest idea, God she is so beautiful.