Fleeting Flames - Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader

Part 23

Weeks later, the apartment felt colder, emptier, without Jenna's presence. She had left for yet another movie shooting. Her scent still lingered faintly on the couch, and her washed coffee mug sat forgotten on the dish drainer—a small reminder of her departure. The familiar warmth she brought to your space was noticeably absent, leaving a hollow ache in its place.

You sat at your desk, surrounded by piles of work that seemed never-ending. Deadlines loomed over you like dark clouds, and the cluttered apartment only added to your growing frustration. Jenna's things were everywhere—heels scattered near the door, jackets draped over the back of chairs, and a stack of books she'd been meaning to unpack still sitting untouched by the bookshelf.

Normally, her things around the apartment made you feel closer to her, but tonight, they only reminded you how far away she was. Jenna's laughter, her sarcastic commentary, the way she'd pull you into a kiss just to get you to stop overthinking—all of it was missing.

To make matters worse, every call with your mom left a heavy knot in your stomach. She looked thinner now, her usually bright smile dimmed by something she wouldn't name. "I'm just on a diet," she'd insisted every time you asked, but the unease in her voice said otherwise.

One night, as you tried to make sense of your thoughts and a cluttered apartment, you tripped on one of Jenna's heels. It came out of nowhere, the sharp edge catching your foot and sending you stumbling forward. The shoe clattered noisily against the floor as you barely caught yourself on the edge of the couch.

The frustration you'd been suppressing finally snapped.

"Why does she even need so many fucking shoes?" you muttered angrily, your voice echoing in the empty room. You kicked the heel aside, your hands shaking as you leaned against the couch. Tears stung your eyes as the weight of everything—work, worry, and the ache of missing Jenna—pressed down on you.

You stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily, staring at the discarded shoe as though it had personally offended you. Then you sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

You took deep long breaths, and forced the tears to go away, today wasn't the day you'd breakdown while all alone.

—-

A few days later, when Jenna returned, her footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floors as she entered the apartment. The sound of the door opening barely registered as you sat in the same spot on the couch, staring blankly at the TV.

"Hey, I'm back," she called softly, dropping her bags and making her way toward you. Her warm brown eyes softened as they met yours. "Missed me?"

You smiled weakly, nodding. "Of course."

But she saw through it immediately. Jenna always did.

She sat down beside you, her hand reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, looking away. "Nothing. I'm just... tired."

Jenna frowned, shifting closer. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out. What's going on?"

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "Everything. I'm worried about my mom, Jen. She keeps saying she's fine, but she looks thinner every time I see her. And work has been insane, and I'm just—" Your voice cracked, and you covered your face with your hands, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

Jenna pulled you into her lap, her arms wrapping tightly around you as you broke down. "It's okay," she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. "I've got you."

For what felt like forever, you cried, releasing weeks of pent-up stress and worry. Jenna didn't say anything, just held you, her fingers running gently through your hair.