it's always ourselves that we find in the sea || jensoo

Chapter 36

A couple of weeks passed by, and Jennie could feel the tension growing, which wasn't to say that things weren't good, it's just that there were a lot of moments where neither of them knew what to say. Jisoo still had the cast on, and wouldn't be getting it off for another week or so, which meant that she'd been frustratingly hindered in her piano playing and spent most of her time sulking in bed. Three emails had come through from Dara's assistant, but Jennie didn't even bother opening them as she focused on nursing Jisoo back to health. She tried not to be too overbearing, even when Jisoo got frustrated at her inability to do something for herself, but she was always there, quietly folding freshly laundered towels or vacuuming hard to reach corners. She tried to give Jisoo her space, usually hovering downstairs or in a different room, unless Jisoo wanted something or was in a good enough mood to let Jennie slip into bed beside her and whisper stories to her in the dark room.

The only time Jisoo left the house was for the rehabilitation program she'd been enrolled in. She hadn't wanted to do it - that much she made very clear - but after a week of no changes in her right hand, which was free of a cast, she caved in and let Jennie make arrangements for her. She'd been four times so far, working with an occupational therapist, a speech-language pathologist, physiotherapist and a psychologist. While at home, Jennie helped her practice what she'd learnt. Still, her hand shook when she tried to raise a fork or cup to her lips, there were words that she couldn't for the life of her remember, leaving gaps in her sentences, and her steps were halting and clumsy, leaving her pale skin with a mottled collection of bruises. They were assured that it was normal for her brain to take some time to mend itself, and that it didn't mean that the oxygen deprivation had permanently damaged her brain, but still, Jennie could see the stiff anger inside Jisoo.

She spent hours laying propped up against a pile of pillows, either in bed or on the sofa, covered in layers of blankets to keep her warm, and she'd stare blankly straight ahead, her lips pressed together in a thin line and her shoulders slightly hunched. Her words were locked away inside her, and Jennie wasn't sure what she was thinking, which unnerved her more than anything else. Jisoo's feelings had always been very close to the surface, ready to spill out of her fingertips on piano keys or fall from her lips in an easy admission of what she was feeling. It had been refreshing to find someone so open and honest, but she'd closed herself off now, isolating much of her thoughts from Jennie. Half of the time, it was like living in a house with someone who wasn't home, as Jisoo retreated into her mind, oblivious to any of her surroundings. Other times, it was like living with a timebomb, each moment ticking by with an ominous feeling that any second now things were going to blow up.

Still, Jennie tried her hardest to make things normal, and as she carried in two cups of tea - one half-filled so as not to spill over from any trembling movements - she gave Jisoo a small smile, setting the cups down onto the nightstand and perching on the edge of the bed. If Jisoo had heard her come in, which she undoubtedly must've, she made no signs to acknowledge her, until she jostled the mattress slightly.

"I just got off the phone with Lisa," Jennie told her, "she was thinking of coming up again this weekend."

"Sure," Jisoo mumbled.

"If Chaeyoung comes too, I thought that I could cook dinner for the four of us. I'm sure Minzy will look after Ruby for a couple of hours. That'll be nice, right?"

"Yeah."

Her tone was flat with disinterest, as if she couldn't care less what they did, and Jennie swallowed the lump in her throat as she shifted closer to Jisoo. Looking down at the cast laying on the bed, which held the large loopy writing of a twelve-year-old who had pestered Jisoo into letting her sign it, as well as a small, neat name in Jennie's handwriting, followed by a little heart. Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips over Jisoo's exposed fingers, hoping it was comforting. She couldn't bring herself to look at her as she spoke - she could rarely look at her without feeling guilty these days - and she struggled to find the words.