Just this once | JenLisa |

Just this once | JenLisa |

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WpMetadataReadComplete Tue, Dec 3, 20245h 39m
Rosé sighs. "I don't know how to explain it, but why would your father suddenly appear after all this time and demand you marry a stranger? And not just any stranger, but a mafia boss?" Rosé's right. None of this makes sense. My father, who barely ever showed up in my life unless he needed something, suddenly dragging me into this mess with Lisa? And a mafia boss, of all people? - Lisa immediately pulls me under the blanket again. "Just until the fever breaks," I mutter. "Sure, Jen. Whatever you say," she whispers, her voice barely audible as she drifts off again. And despite myself, I stay. When I stir awake sometime later, the room is dim, and Lisa's arm is still draped over me, holding me in place. I blink groggily, realizing I hadn't meant to fall asleep here. Lisa shifts slightly beside me but doesn't wake. Her breathing is soft, and her fever seems to have broken, but she still clings to me like I'm some kind of lifeline. I sigh quietly, rubbing my eyes. "Just this once," I remind myself again. I stir awake, feeling something wet and warm against my stomach. Still half-asleep, I absentmindedly stroke the soft head. "Good puppy," I mumble. Wait. Puppy? My eyes snap open, and there she is-Lisa, grinning mischievously, her chin resting on me. "Of course," I mutter, glaring at her. Lisa winks. "Morning." I groan. "Do you ever act normal?" "Where's the fun in that?" she teases, propping herself up on her elbows. - As I murmur against her lips, "This doesn't change anything," Lisa pauses for a moment, her breath warm against my skin. She hums in response, the sound vibrating through our connected bodies. The heat radiating from her body feels intoxicating, and I relish it, but I remind myself that love isn't on the table right now. "Just... this once," I say, punctuating my words with a gentle press of my lips against hers once more. "Yeah, just this once," she replies, a hint of mischief creeping back into her voice.
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#240
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The scent hits first. Dark rose, white pepper, and something sharp underneath - like cold metal at midnight. Jennie Ruby Jane walks through the glass doors of Kim Corp's headquarters, and time bends. Staff straighten up. Conversations drop mid-sentence. She doesn't look at anyone. She never needs to. Her heels click against imported marble as if announcing a verdict, not an arrival. Her face is unreadable - not emotionless, just carefully engineered. As perfect and untouchable as the perfume empire she built from scratch. Jennie is not warm. She is gravity in a black suit. ⸻ On the 28th floor, Lisa hears the footsteps before she sees her. Always five minutes early. Always in black. Always smelling like heartbreak in a bottle. Lisa turns slightly, pretending to read the numbers on her iPad. Her fingers hover above the screen, frozen. Don't look like you've loved her for years. Jennie walks past her. Doesn't speak. Just pauses for a half-second - enough to flick her gaze toward Lisa's direction - then disappears into the corner office. Lisa doesn't breathe until the door closes. ⸻ It's been 4 years. 4 promotions. Hundreds of sleepless nights building the very campaigns that made Jennie Kim ahousehold name across Southeast Asia. Lisa is the youngest Marketing Director in company history. She's sharp, strategic, respected. Instead, she's exhausted - from carrying numbers on her back by day and emotions on her chest by night. Jennie never touches her. Never says her name unless necessary. Never lets her get too close. But somehow... never quite lets her go, either. ⸻ Rosé says Lisa's addicted to the pain. Jisoo just calls it career suicide in slow motion. Lisa doesn't answer either of them. She just keeps showing up. Keeps designing campaigns around the way Jennie moves. Keeps writing scent descriptions that read more like love letters. Keeps pretending her chest doesn't ache every time Jennie smiles - just slightly - at someone who isn't her

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