Don't Wanna Be Your Girl || Jensoo

Chapter 26

The soft pad of bare feet upon the polished wooden floorboards pulls Jennie's attention from the tofu bacon—a cheeky indulgence—frying in the pan and she can't smother a grin as soon as she catches sight of Jisoo's hair.

It's a nest first thing in the morning. More so since Jisoo had the length cut shorter, the ends falling just above the tops of her shoulders.

("The classic bisexual lob" was Joy's approving verdict when they all met for drinks at Baloney's last week to celebrate the end of finals, before handing out a tray of shots and telling everyone to "drink up, bitches."

Then, sparing a sideways glance at Jennie's disapproving pout, Joy had amended with a slight roll of her eyes, "Strong, independent bitches who get shit done. The future is female. Down with the patriarchy. Whatever. Get this tequila down your throats.")

So, yes, Jennie loves Jisoo's new style. Loves to comb her fingers through the darker roots to the lighter tips, gently working out the tangles, an attempt to arrange the messy ombre waves into some semblance of order. She loves how Jisoo's eyelids slide to half-mast under the attention; the quiet, throaty hum it earns; the way Jisoo always pulls her in by the waist, smiling, for an unhurried kiss before Jennie's done, one that deepens gradually and leaves them both panting softly into each other's mouths.

Lost in the haze of those thoughts, it takes Jennie a moment to notice the downturn of Jisoo's lips, the troubled furrow of her brows while she stares at her phone.

"Jisoo?"

When she receives only a distracted noise in response, Jennie takes the pan off the heat and switches the burner off. She crosses the kitchen and cups a gentle hand around Jisoo's elbow to draw her focus.

Jisoo jolts a bit at the touch.

"Is something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh." An absent shake of her head. "Sorry. It's—well, fuck." She sighs and turns the phone around. "See for yourself."

Without her glasses or contacts in, Jennie has to squint and peer closer to scan the body of an email. Reads: inbound flight details from Chicago O'Hare; a reservation for the Hyatt in the city.I'm looking forward to seeing you, Jisoo. It's been far too long.

Jennie blinks. Lifts her gaze from the screen to watch the emotions that flit across Jisoo's features in quick succession: a hint of panic, dismay, frustration, finally settling into a moue of displeasure. A full face journey worthy of Titus Andromedon.

"Your mom's coming to your degree show tomorrow?"

Jisoo sags against the breakfast bar and nods.

The kitchen is quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the 'faken' still lightly sizzling in the pan.

Which makes Jisoo's sudden, emphatic "fuck" all the more startling.

She tips her head back, blows out a rough breath before she looks at Jennie again. A scratchy burst of morose laughter escapes her. "Didn't think she'd actually accept the invitation. I mean, shit, she made zero effort to come to any of the others."

"Jisoo, maybe..." Jennie wets her lips. Braces herself, knowing this suggestion probably won't be well received in her girlfriend's current mood. "Maybe she wants to make amends?"

Predictably enough, Jisoo's chest puffs out as she pulls in a deep breath through her nose, about to unleash what Jennie presumes will be a barrage of expletive-ridden vitriol.

"I don't know your mom," Jennie says quickly, preempting the tirade, "but she's flying halfway across the country to see you." She raises her eyebrows. "Doesn't that suggest something?"