black ribbons (jensoo)

chapter ten

They reached Jisoo's apartment in a haze of promise and alcohol and burning glances across the back seat of a cab. They didn't say a word to each other for the whole journey, but it was as loud a silence as Jennie had ever known. It felt like she'd let out a sigh of relief as the curtain came down and hadn't breathed since, trapped in airless anticipation, unable to think of anything but how badly she wanted to be here, now, sat in the back seat of a car with a girl who was both dangerously close and not nearly close enough.

She was holding the cash out to the driver before they'd even stopped moving. Jisoo led the way up the dark stairwell, shadows playing across her bare back, and the designer almost tripped over in her haste to follow. After so long observing, learning Jisoo's body as best she could without ever being able to touch, she ached to make those muscles move for her, respond to her fingers, her voice, her mouth. Jennie remembered how she'd felt the last time they'd climbed these stairs, poised on the edge of something without quite knowing how she'd got there; this time, she knew that if Jisoo so much as looked at her, she'd throw herself off. It was risky and reckless and terrifying, and Jennie couldn't remember wanting anything more.

Jisoo wavered as they reached the top, turning her keys over in her hands. 'Are you sure?'

'Jisoo, open the damn door.'

She almost didn't recognize her own voice, husky with gin and longing, but it did the trick. The door opened, the apartment dark on the other side, a breeze gusting past from an open window somewhere beyond - and then it was closed again and Jennie found herself pressed against it. She felt a split-second bite of cold metal against her skin as Jisoo's keys brushed her neck, and then the warmth of hands cradling her jaw and lips on hers, open-mouthed, sure to the point of desperation.

There's not enough time right now for the way I want you to touch me.

Oh, just you wait.

Jennie moved on instinct, tracing patterns she'd mapped out in her head every night for weeks. Keys fell to the floor as she shifted her weight, backing Jisoo slowly into the wall, hands finding hips, you want to be touched, then let me touch you. The movement barely broke the kiss. Jisoo's tongue was licking into Jennie's mouth, hands scrabbling to get purchase on the gold sequins and pull her closer, Jennie equally determined to pin her there. In Jennie's imagination there hadn't been clothes in the way, and she sought out skin, bending to nudge her forehead against Jisoo's neck and her lips against a collarbone.

'You designed the damn thing,' murmured Jisoo into her ear, more felt than heard, head tipping back against the wall with a soft thud. 'You know how to take it off.'

'Do you want me to?'

'Nothing against the dress, but -' Jisoo broke off, losing her breath for a moment as Jennie pressed a kiss into her neck. 'I want this. I want you.'

Jennie looked up to meet the ballerina's eyes, huge and dark in the mingled moonlight and lamplight from the next room. 'Where?'

'Down the hall.'

Jennie drew back reluctantly and let Jisoo lead her away from the kitchen, away from the room with the shelf of pointe shoes, to the bedroom at the back of the house. In the moment it took for Jisoo to kick off her shoes and flick on a bedside light, keeping her balance with the careful grace of the moderately drunk, Jennie picked out white sheets in the gloom, and city lights through a window cracked open to let in the smell of autumn smoke and approaching rainfall. Her feet ached, much as she would never admit it to a ballerina, but she decided to enjoy the sensation of being taller for once. 'Turn around.'

She unpinned Jisoo's hair curl by curl. She could have pulled the updo apart in seconds but she found herself caught up in the rarity of having time, and let herself enjoy watching the dark coils unravel wave by wave, and feeling Jisoo shudder when fingers grazed skin.