One-shots (Jensoo)

To the Bone (5)

The silence in the Kim mansion had grown into a palpable entity, thick and suffocating, ever since Jisoo had walked away. For Jennie, it was a constant ache, a phantom limb. She saw Jisoo everywhere and nowhere. In the polished gleam of the grand staircase, in the faint scent of lilac that clung to the air in certain wings, in the fleeting glimpses of a familiar silhouette across manicured gardens.

Jisoo, once the bright spark in Jennie's world, had become a ghost. Their interactions had dwindled to mere necessities of their roles. Jennie, the heiress; Jisoo, the maid. A nod, a curt instruction, a hurried apology for occupying the same hallway for too long. Eye contact was a forgotten luxury, a forbidden bridge. Jennie would find herself holding her breath when Jisoo entered a room, her heart performing a frantic drum solo against her ribs, only to deflate when Jisoo's gaze meticulously avoided hers.

Jennie's mother, a woman of quiet observation and astute intuition, noticed. The once effervescent spirit of her daughter had dimmed. The vibrant laughter that used to echo through the corridors was now a muted whisper. She saw the way Jennie's eyes would dart towards Jisoo, a flicker of a longing that was quickly suppressed.

One evening, as Jennie was tracing the intricate patterns of her silk robe, her mother entered, a cup of warm chamomile tea in hand. "Jennie, darling," she began softly, her voice a gentle caress. "Are you well? You seem... distant lately."

Jennie's breath hitched. She wanted to pretend, to deflect, to protect Jisoo from any further burden. But the weight of her own unhappiness was becoming unbearable. She took a shaky sip of tea, her gaze fixed on the swirling amber liquid.

"It's... it's complicated, Mom." Her voice was a low murmur.

Her mother sat beside her, her hand finding Jennie's. "Complicated things are often best shared, my dear. Especially with your mother."

The dam finally broke. Tears welled in Jennie's eyes, blurring the opulent surroundings. She didn't name Jisoo, not directly, but the story of a broken heart, a love lost, poured out of her. She spoke of a shared past, of stolen moments, of a connection so profound it felt etched into her very being. As she spoke, her voice cracked with the raw pain of their separation, and she alluded to the fact that Jisoo was the one who had pulled away.

Her mother listened patiently, her expression a mixture of sympathy and understanding. When Jennie finally fell silent, her shoulders heaving, her mother squeezed her hand. "Oh, Jennie," she sighed, her voice filled with a compassion that Jennie hadn't expected. "I understand. It hurts, doesn't it? When someone you love causes you pain, even if it's in their attempt to... protect."

Jennie looked up, surprised. "Protect?"

Her mother nodded, her gaze steady. "Think, darling. Think from Jisoo's perspective. The world we live in, it's harsh. It's full of judgment. For someone like Jisoo, the daughter of the head housekeeper, to be involved with you, the Kim heiress... what do you think they would say? What would people whisper?"

Jennie's brow furrowed. She hadn't considered that fully. "They'd say... they'd say she was using me. Like a.. a gold digger." The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

"Exactly," her mother confirmed gently. "The world is quick to cast stones, especially when lines are blurred. They'd see it as an opportunistic gain, not a genuine connection. And perhaps, for Jisoo, the fear of that label, the fear of the consequences for both of you, became too much to bear. It's a heavy burden for anyone, especially for someone with fewer resources to fight against such tide."

Jennie pulled her hand away, a flicker of defiance igniting within her. "But mom, it's not true! What we have... it's real. It's more real than anything else. I'm willing to prove that. I'm willing to fight for it." Her voice, though still tinged with sadness, held a newfound resolve.