french fries & milk ice-cream// JENLISA ONESHOTS

i'd like to be a gallery (put you all inside my show)

She's going to fail this class-again.

The white robe hasn't even come off of the girl's shoulder and Jennie already feels like she can't breathe. She looks down, fumbles with her charcoal, accidentally staining her brand new t-shirt, like an idiot-all the while willing herself not to blush.

(And it's not like she's wearing it on purpose; it's not like she's been thinking about it all weekend; not that she has extensively considered wearing something with cuffed short sleeves that'll show off her biceps while she works, just in case the model happened to be the same girl as last semester. Nope. Not at all.)

She barely hears Professor Dara's instructions, too busy glaring at the white sheets of paper on her easel, too busy trying to keep it together.

It's just a class, she tells herself.

This is art school; this is why she's here.

She can handle a class.

Of course, that's when someone-fucking Chaeyoung-starts coughing, and Jennie looks up, distracted, just for a second, just out of reflex. Just because Chaeyoung can't keep it quiet, right as the model-

Her breath catches in her throat.

Smooth, naked skin.

All lean and muscles.

The girl drags the white, fluffy fabric down her shoulder, exposing a long line of freckles running down her spine. Jennie feels her whole body tense, watches as the girl slides out of the bathrobe with ease and confidence. She undresses herself like it's nothing, turns toward Jennie's side of the room, a hand on her hip, her fingers looking lean and strong, and-

Fuck.

Jennie swears at herself internally.

This is so unprofessional.

She's supposed to be treating this as an assignment. She's supposed to study proportions and shading and lines. Not make eye contact with the hot model in her Life Drawing class and imagine in vivid detail what it would be like to be fucked against the door of the supplies closet.

"Kim."

Dara's eyes are narrowed, mouth a straight line.

Jennie blinks hard, shakes herself out of it. "Sorry, what?"

"I believe I told you to move to the front multiple times already." Dara's tone is cold. "You can't see anything from back there."

Not true, Jennie thinks.

She can see plenty. She can see way too much, actually. Any closer and she will actually get a heart attack.

Biting her lip, she glances across Dara's shoulder, accidentally making eye contact with the girl again.

She's got really pretty eyes.

Golden with flecks of green and brown, all gleaming and teasing and-

Jennie nearly chokes when she notices the way the girl is grinning at her. Smug and confident, hand still on her hip, fingers tapping the bone almost like she wants Jennie's attention there.

Fucking hell.

She's going to fail this class.

Again.

"Today, Kim."

Professor Dara's voice is sharp.

With a shaky breath, she grabs her backpack off the floor, hurrying to push all her supplies, her charcoal and pencils, in as quickly as possible. She can hear Dara gasp at the lack of care, but Jennie ignores it. She's blushing-she knows that she's blushing. Her easel is heavy, difficult to carry. She needs to push past everyone to get to the front, past Irene and Chaeyoung and Jisoo, who are all biting back their grins.