Loving You In Silent

5

The café grew quieter as the night stretched on, the chatter around us fading into a soothing hum. The warm glow of the lights overhead softened the edges of everything, and for a moment, I felt like we were in our own little bubble-just Jennie and me.

Jennie, still leaning close, had fallen into a comfortable silence, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table. I watched her absentmindedly, noticing the way a few strands of hair fell across her face, the way her lips curved into a faint smile even as she wasn't saying anything. Every little detail seemed magnified under the golden light, and I couldn't stop the quiet ache blooming in my chest.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked softly, my voice breaking the stillness between us.

Jennie looked up, her eyes locking with mine. There was a pause, like she was deciding whether or not to answer. Finally, she gave a small shrug, her smile turning a little more introspective. "Just... how nice this is. It's been a while since I've had a moment like this-where everything feels calm, you know?"

I nodded, understanding her more than I wanted to admit. Calm. It wasn't a word I often associated with moments like these, especially when my heart was racing faster than it should. But somehow, Jennie did have that effect on me-she made everything around her seem easy, even when nothing about how I felt was simple.

"I guess it is nice," I murmured, my eyes dropping to where my hand was resting on the table.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jennie tilt her head slightly, like she was studying me. "You're really quiet tonight," she said, her tone teasing but gentle. "Something on your mind?"

I hesitated. Of course there's something on my mind, I thought, the words rising up before I could stop them. You're on my mind. You've been on my mind since the day we met. But I swallowed them down, shoving the feelings back into the corner of my heart where they belonged. "Just tired, I guess," I said instead, forcing a small smile.

Jennie didn't look convinced, but she let it go, leaning back in her seat with a soft sigh. "Well, I'm glad we're all here tonight," she said, her voice lighter again. "I think we needed this after the craziness of the past few days."

"Yeah," I agreed, my smile more genuine this time. "It's been fun."

As if on cue, Rose leaned over from where she'd been talking with Jennie's friends, a sly grin on her face. "Are you two having your own secret conversation over here?"

Jennie laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "We might be," she teased, nudging me with her shoulder. "You jealous, Rosie?"

"Not at all," Rose shot back, rolling her eyes but smiling. "I'm just glad Lisa's actually talking for once."

Jennie turned to me with a look of mock offense. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, though there was a spark of amusement in her eyes.

"I think it means I'm quiet," I said, playing along, though I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Quiet is nice," Jennie said suddenly, her voice softer again as she looked at me. "I like it."

My heart skipped a beat at her words, but before I could figure out how to respond, one of Jennie's friends called out to her, pulling her into another conversation. I exhaled quietly, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a little.

Still, Jennie's words lingered in my mind. I like it. I knew she probably hadn't meant much by it-Jennie was the kind of person who said nice things easily-but hearing her say that about me felt... different. Special.

---

The night carried on, and before we knew it, the clock was inching toward midnight. The group decided to call it a night, and we all stepped out into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling around us. The café had been warm and cozy, but outside, the crisp breeze was refreshing, cutting through the lingering drowsiness of the long day.

We waited for rides to arrive, everyone chatting in small clusters. I stood a little apart, letting the quiet settle over me.

"You okay?" Jennie's voice broke through my thoughts. She had wandered over to where I stood, her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm.

"Yeah," I said quickly, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets. "Just tired."

Jennie raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You said that already."

I looked away, embarrassed. "Well, it's still true."

She laughed softly, moving closer so we were standing side by side. The quiet stretched between us again, but this time it felt different-like something was waiting to be said.

Finally, Jennie spoke, her voice quieter than before. "Lisa?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She looked up at me then, her expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. "Why do you always keep to yourself so much? I feel like there's this whole side of you that you don't let anyone see."

I froze, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. How could I explain that I kept to myself because I was scared-scared of saying too much, of feeling too much, of letting anyone get too close?

"I don't know," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I guess it's just easier that way."

Jennie frowned, her eyes searching mine. "Easier doesn't always mean better, though."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. "Maybe not," I admitted. "But it's safer."

Jennie stared at me for a long moment, like she was trying to understand something I couldn't put into words. Then, to my surprise, she reached out and took my hand, her fingers curling gently around mine.

"Maybe you don't always have to be so careful," she said softly. "At least... not with me."

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. I looked down at our hands, at the way her fingers fit so easily between mine, and I felt something crack open inside me-something I'd been trying to keep locked away.

"Jennie, I-" I started, but I didn't know how to finish.

She smiled, giving my hand a small squeeze before letting go. "It's okay," she said quietly, as if she could hear all the unspoken words in my head.

The sound of a car pulling up broke the moment, and Jennie stepped back, her usual bright smile slipping back into place. "That's our ride," she said, gesturing toward her friends.

"Right," I said, my voice sounding strange even to myself.

Jennie lingered for just a second longer, her gaze holding mine. "Goodnight, Lisa," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Jennie."

I watched as she climbed into the car, her laughter ringing out as one of her friends said something funny. The door closed, and the car pulled away, disappearing into the night.

I stood there alone on the sidewalk, my hands still tingling where hers had been, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel it-all of it. The confusion, the longing, the impossible hope that maybe, just maybe, Jennie saw me the way I saw her.

As the city lights stretched on around me, I made another silent promise. Maybe she's right, I thought. Maybe I don't have to be so careful. Maybe it's okay to let someone in.

But even as I thought it, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Nothing about Jennie ever was.

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