My reflection in your eyes

One

Jennie stares at her own reflection in the mirror as her fingers tap against the wooden table in front of her. She brings them up to pull at the strands of her hair and then down again, reminding herself of the three hours that her stylist spent working on her hairdo.

It looks great, actually, chocolate, shiny curls falling delicately on top of her exposed collarbones. Her makeup is on point too, elegant and subtle but fierce at the same time, showing all the sides of herself that she has learnt to love with the passing of time.

Jennie bites her lower lip and taps on the table more insistently. Her gaze runs from the white flower pot contrasting with dark brown wooden, to the lights of the mirror, to her eyes again as her thoughts race without mercy.

Is it enough? Does she look beautiful enough? What if she goes down the aisle with her heart bursting against her chest and then there is an empty space...

"You look beautiful, Jennie".

The brunette turns her head quickly at the affectionate, teary tone of her best friend, who is looking at her as if she was letting her child go to school on her own for the first time.

"Thanks, Soo", she swallows, trying to overcome the nervous lump in her throat, "is everything okay? I mean, the setting, and the people, and...".

"The place is gorgeous, your mom is small talking with every single guest, and your love is just as anxious at you, also looking surprisingly good".

Jennie lets her shoulders relax, a small smile growing in her face as a warm rush fills her chest.

"Everything will go perfectly, Jen. This is your happy day. Make sure to enjoy it thoroughly".

The tallest brunette opens her mouth to answer, still in a sweet dizzy spell, extremely thankful for her friend's comforting words, but a loud squeal interrupts her.

"Oh my god, you look amazing! Look at you! Gorgeous! Oh, I'm so happy".

Jennie giggles softly as Rosé brings her hands to her own face, visibly tearing up.

"Thanks Rosie. I'm glad that you feel that way".

The silver blonde takes some quick steps to embrace her friend's neck loosely, mindful of the hours and hours of production, and starts sobbing affectionate words as she stares at Jennie through the mirror.

"I can't believe that this is happening. After so many years... but I knew. I knew. We both knew, Jisoo, right? It was like written in the stars".

The shortest brunette chuckles and puts her hand on top of the blonde's left shoulder.

"Meant to be, indeed", she concedes, and lets a comfortable silence extend for a moment before speaking again, "I have to check on the fourth pink, though, for what I know she could be hanging on the chandelier already, or cussing somebody off. And I thought that Jennie was going to be the difficult one".

The tallest brunette giggles at Jisoo's words, her cheeks covered by a pinkish heat, and squeezes Rosés hands so as to anchor herself.

"I was difficult too", she mumbles, almost apologetically.

The shortest brunette gestures with her hand nonchalantly, but leaves the room with a wide smile.

"Yes", the silver blonde murmurs, "but it's your wedding day. You have every right to be. Now show me that stunning dress.".

-

Seven-year-old Jennie sits as straight as she can in the green plastic chair with her legs barely brazing the ground. She's looking intently at the folded paper under her tiny fingers as she traces new lines, cat-like eyes absolutely focused in the process.