The Quiet Contract

Paris of JenLisa

Jennie POV

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was the first thing I noticed. It was soft, golden, and warm, but it did nothing to calm the rush of emotions coursing through me as I woke up. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, my mind hazy from sleep.

Then I felt it—the weight of her arm draped across me.

I turned my head ever so slightly, and there she was. Lisa. Lying beside me, still fast asleep, the faint rise and fall of her chest visible beneath the blanket that had slipped down to her waist. Her face was so peaceful, so utterly serene, and I found myself staring at her, taking in every detail. The curve of her lips, the way her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks, the tousled mess of her hair that somehow made her look even more beautiful.

And then it hit me.

The memories of last night came rushing back, vivid and relentless. My cheeks burned as I recalled the way she'd touched me, the way her lips had claimed mine, the way we'd lost ourselves in each other. It was overwhelming, and for a moment, I buried my face in my hands, trying to contain the flood of emotions.

I wasn't the type to get flustered easily, but this...this was different.

Lisa had always been different.

I lowered my hands, peeking at her again, and a small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. How could she look so perfect, even in her sleep? It wasn't fair.

For a long time, I just lay there, watching her. The world outside was quiet, the kind of stillness that only exists early in the morning. It gave me time to think, though I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

The past few days had been nothing short of a nightmare—hurtful words, sleepless nights, doubts that gnawed at my heart. I had been so angry with her, so convinced that she had lied to me, betrayed me. But now, as I looked at her, I felt all of that melt away.

It wasn't just the recording she had played for me, though that had helped. It was the way she'd spoken to me, the way she'd looked at me, the way she'd begged for my forgiveness.

I believed her.

Maybe I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, but deep down, I knew it was true. Lisa had been honest, sincere, and vulnerable in a way that left me no choice but to trust her. And now, as I lay here beside her, I felt something I hadn't allowed myself to feel in days—peace.

I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow to get a better look at her. My fingers itched to reach out, to brush the stray strands of hair from her face, but I hesitated.

"What are you doing to me, Lisa?" I whispered, the words barely audible.

I wasn't sure if I was talking to her or to myself.

She stirred then, a soft murmur escaping her lips, and I froze. For a moment, I thought she might wake up, but she simply shifted, her arm tightening around me slightly before settling again.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, my gaze dropping to the clock on the bedside table. It was just past 6 a.m. Too early to be awake, but there was no chance I'd be falling back asleep now.

I turned my attention back to Lisa, my mind wandering as I watched her. The doubts and anger I had felt just days ago seemed like a distant memory now. It was strange, really, how quickly everything had changed.

But then again, Lisa had always had that effect on me.

I thought about the past few days, the whirlwind of emotions I had gone through, the pain of feeling betrayed. It had been awful, but as I lay here now, I realized that it had all been worth it. Every tear, every sleepless night, every moment of doubt—it had led to this.