Amiss Jennie X Y/n

Chapter 20

There's something about sitting down for a meal together that just heals the soul. No matter how chaotic life gets, how many problems weigh on your shoulders, sharing food with family—even if it's a mix of steps and halves—somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. It's not about the fancy dishes or the perfect setup; it's about the quiet little moments in between bites, the warmth of being surrounded by people who, in their own way, care.

Tonight was one of those moments. We were all at the table—me, my mom, my stepdad, and my stepsisters. It's funny how, even though we're not all connected by blood, there's this strange sense of comfort in the way we just fit together. I watched as my stepdad leaned over to refill my mom's glass of water. It was such a small gesture, but something about it felt so genuine, like a silent act of love that spoke louder than words ever could.

Then there's Lisa—always cheerful, always with that easy-going energy. She was digging into her food, grinning at me like she was just happy to be there, happy to eat, happy to be around everyone. And then Jennie... god, Jennie. She was just quietly mixing everything on her plate, totally lost in her own little world. But there was something about her in that moment—effortlessly cute, like she didn't even have to try. The way her eyes flicked up at me for a second, curious but soft, like she knew I was watching. I caught myself smiling without even realizing it. She's adorable. Pretty, in that naturally graceful kind of way. I don't know, it's hard to explain, but she just is.

It's moments like these, tucked away in the quiet corners of ordinary days, that remind me life isn't all that bad. Maybe even good. Maybe, just maybe, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

There we were, gathered around the dinner table—plates full, chatter floating in the air, and the scent of pasta mixing with the comfort of being surrounded by people who somehow became family. My stepdad was halfway through his plate, still chewing when he turned to me with that casual, almost too-casual tone.

"So, Y/N... how's school?"

He asked it like it was nothing, just another dinner table question. My mom looked over too, eyebrows raised, silently waiting for my answer while she gently stirred her glass with a spoon like she was preparing for tea, not the mild chaos about to unfold.

"Oh, it's good," I said, keeping it simple, playing it safe.

But then he raised his fork again, pointing it at me like he was about to deliver a plot twist.

"I heard you've got yourself a girlfriend. That's quite fast, huh? Not that I'm surprised—look at you, you've got the looks."

Cue the moment. Lisa and I both choked on our food at the exact same time, like synchronized swimmers in a pool of marinara. I grabbed my glass of water while she coughed up a bit of spaghetti, trying to breathe and laugh at the same time. Across the table, Jennie—who had been suspiciously quiet until now—glanced sideways at me, fork mid-air, an eyebrow slowly lifting like really now?

"Oh—no, it's—I don't have a girlfriend... I mean..." I started fumbling, trying to piece together words like a toddler discovering language for the first time. And of all the people I had to sit next to, it had to be Jennie. Jennie with the calm expression and sharp hearing, Jennie who notices everything. I swear she leaned in just slightly, not enough to be obvious, but just enough to hear me drown in my own awkward panic.

"I really don't know," I finally muttered, then chuckled like I was laughing at a joke I didn't quite get. Because honestly? I didn't know what I was saying anymore.

"Well," my stepdad said, already halfway through another bite of pasta, "as long as she makes you happy, then we're fine with it."

Smooth. Cool. Supportive.