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"Where are you going?" Lisa asks, twisting to face the door. Jennie and Chaeyoung look up from their phones at that, and Jisoo attempts to smile, knuckles straining as she grips the sleeves of her sweater.
"Bathroom," she grits out. Lisa's eyes clear and she nods, turning back to the movie playing on Jennie's computer. Jisoo exhales.
She'll admit; she didn't believe in it until it slapped her in the face, and she wonders, then, if it's the universe's way of punishing her. Jisoo always thought it was one of those things, pretty if you want it to be, foolish otherwise. And she found it foolish, an idea for the hopeless romantics to cling to.
Foolish, that is, until she's locking the bathroom door behind her, and near-translucent petals are tumbling from her lips to wear like scars across the clean tile. Foolish, until there's knocking on the door and buzzing in her ears and suddenly it all doesn't seem quite so silly, but it sure isn't pretty, either.
"Unnie?" Lisa rattles the doorknob.
Really, Jisoo glares at the silky handfuls of petals that betray too much. Couldn't leave me alone long enough to fall in love on my own?
She reaches over, anyway. Slides the lock away.
Lisa stumbles in and gasps. An overreaction to make up for the disbelief on Jisoo's part. She falls to her knees and scoops up a fistful of rose, mouth falling open.
Jisoo observes Lisa and the strands of auburn hair that are slipping out of the blue clips Chaeyoung bought earlier. She wonders if there is a word that means synonym and antonym at the same time, because, if there is, then it would describe the relationship between true love and Hanahaki perfectly.
"When did this start? Have you been keeping a secret from us? Who is it?" Lisa whirls to face Jisoo, her knees on either side of the elder's. She wrings her hands around the petals. You're squeezing the love out, Jisoo wants to joke, but she doesn't think Lisa would find it very funny.
"Who is it?" Lisa repeats, her knuckles popping out white. "Unnie."
"I'll tell you when I figure it out," Jisoo whispers. She feels stupid and raw, even more so when Lisa tilts her head up so their eyes can meet. Lisa's are big and brown and scared. "I really don't know, Lise."
"Okay," Lisa slowly lets go of her chin and starts cleaning away the mess. Jisoo can't miss the doubt in her tone, or even try to play it off as worry. "Just know that we're here, unnie. You can tell us anything."
"I know," Jisoo blinks away the sting in her eyes and swallows down the tickle in her throat. Neither have any place in the stiff, cool air of the bathroom. Lisa's back is to her, and Jisoo isn't sure if she can hear her, or if she is even bothering to listen. "I know."
Oh, she thinks later, watching as Lisa dances to the songs softly teasing from their old radio, preparing a bowl of fruit.
Oh, she thinks when her heart jumps at Lisa's bright grin, and she realizes she just might have to go back on her word after all. Oh.
"I thought you didn't believe in Hanahaki."
Jisoo jumps, her phone clattering to the floor. Jennie leans over the back of the couch, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. It's an odd combination that turns Jisoo's stomach. She swallows, glancing away.
Jennie softens at something she can find in Jisoo's expression, even as she tries to smooth it all away. There's steady hands on Jisoo's shoulders, and Jennie sighs.
"Jisoo," she starts out, something trembling in her voice that Jisoo wants to curl away from. "It's Lisa, isn't it?"
Jisoo nods.
"Look," Jennie walks around the couch to sit next to Jisoo, their knees knocking together. She takes her hand and breathes deep. "I'm saying this as your leader, alright? Get the surgery. There's too much to risk as an idol. What if young girls get the idea you should die for love? Think about your voice, your body. You could destroy your career. Think about the group."
Jisoo frowns, watching Jennie play with her fingers. Their silence is always restless, a bit impatient. She clears her throat. Jennie looks up.
"Say something as my friend, okay? Forget Blackpink. Forget the world. What would you say?"
Jennie chuckles, but it's dry and meaningless; filler. "Get the surgery anyway. Any person who puts you through pain like this isn't worth it."
There's a hollow air about Jennie, and Jisoo admires how well she can hide her feelings, scrape them away and toss them out like the seeds of a pumpkin. Who did this, she wants to ask, but the words dissolve away on her tongue.
"How could you?" slips out instead.
"Easily," Jennie replies. "It's Hanahaki. I knew it wouldn't end well for me, and I had dreams."
Jisoo bites her lip.
"You must think me selfish," Jennie continues. "But it saved me. Just, just think about it, okay, unnie?"
She stands up, smiles weakly, and strides out of the room before she even receives her answer. Jisoo stares after her and understands why she is the leader she is.
You must think me selfish.
Jisoo wonders what Jennie's flowers meant, if she even let them grow long enough for their colors to sink in.
If this is all about being selfish, Jisoo muses, then I'll be in love.
There's something scratchy and slow crawling up her throat, a terrifying nudge of agreement from the love growing, beautifully and painfully, inside of her.
"Tell her," Chaeyoung pleads, because Jennie still can't resist those eyes.
"Fat load of help," Jisoo spits. The petals are darkening into a pleasant sort of pink. Chaeyoung pulls in a sharp breath, but she has always been the romantic among the four of them. "Sorry, Chaeng."
Chaeyoung pulls Jisoo into a careful hug. If there is one person in the whole world Jisoo doesn't want to look fragile in front of, it's Chaeyoung. Pretty, gentle Chaeyoung. But here she is. Chaeyoung's sweater smells like vanilla. She runs slender fingers through Jisoo's sweaty hair. "It's okay."
Lisa pays for the ice cream, and Jisoo has to remind herself that's just Lisa. Lisa links their arms and clumsily eats her ice cream left-handed, and it's a bit (a lot) harder. Lisa's eyes sparkle like there's nowhere else she'd rather be, and Jisoo's heart flutters and throbs too far up her throat.
"Chichu," she sings, lips this close. "Don't look so serious! We're having fun!"
Jisoo laughs, and she could fly, if she wanted. Lisa beams like she's forgotten, or perhaps like she wants nothing more than to forget.
Lisa leans over and takes a messy bite of Jisoo's cone, ice cream smearing across her lips, and pretends she doesn't see when Jisoo coughs a single petal into her palm.
Sometimes a person can go years with flowers stealing the air from their very lungs. Sometimes a person can stand it a month.
Two weeks: Jisoo is wheezing after five minutes on the treadmill.
Jennie's face tightens. "At least we're on a break. You're lucky. Unnie--"
Jisoo slams the door in her face.
Lisa hangs in the doorway, all thin limbs and baggy sweatpants. She's frowning, and Jisoo hates that.
"What is it?" Lisa shakes her head. "Come in, then."
She scurries in and flings herself across the bed. She rests her head against Jisoo's stomach. Jisoo tries to stifle any sound, but Lisa quickly pulls away anyway, and the room dips that much cooler.
"Unnie, do you want me to be honest?"
Jisoo turns her phone off and tosses it to the foot of her bed. "Probably not, but you're going to say it anyway, aren't you?"
"Well," Lisa pauses. "Yeah."
"Shoot."
The words come out crowded. "I don't think you're taking the fact that your life is in danger seriously enough."
Jisoo stiffens. She counts her breaths as she looks up at the ceiling, where the Pikachu stickers Lisa slapped on months ago are peeling off around the edges. She's not surprised she fell in love with Lisa, somewhere in between the late nights spent talking under the full moon like every cliché rolled into a scratchy blanket and cold toes, the swish of light hair into starry eyes, and the hiss of cola against the crunch of shared chicken. She's not surprised someone like Lisa, glorious, brave, passionate Lisa, could never love her back.
Maybe, deep down, she's not even surprised that she couldn't bear to shed the burden of loving so deeply, so wholly, that a physical manifestation of that love is, perfectly and swiftly, killing her.
"Lisa," she breathes. "I don't think you know. How much it would hurt, letting go of her."
Lisa sniffles. Folds herself in half and buries her face in Jisoo's shoulder. "She's not worth it. I can tell that much. I can't lose you to her, you know that, don't you?"
"She is worth it," Jisoo cradles Lisa closer. "You can't even fathom."
"I know you don't deserve this."
So love me back, Jisoo bites back, because it's rotten and guilty any way she cuts it. Love me back.
Jisoo coughs red rose petals into her morning rice.
"Fuck!" Jennie exclaims, fork dropping to her plate. Jisoo doesn't need to lift her head to know what's in front of her, but she does anyway. Chaeyoung angles away, but her shoulders shake. Lisa's gaze is glassy and red-rimmed, this Jisoo can tell even as she looks down at her lap. Jennie seems caught between screaming and sobbing and letting it all go. "Jisoo. You...you can't live like this."
"I know," Jisoo replies, and gags behind her raised hand, eyes stinging. She manages to choke back the rosebud until she's safe behind the locked bathroom door.
First the bud, then the bloom, then the thorns, she remembers hearing once, and feels the first sensations of doubt flicker in her aching stomach.
Jisoo doesn't choke out a petal for six days.
She takes in a sigh of relief and lets Lisa play with her hair, do her makeup. Lisa carefully slicks gloss over her lips and pulls strands of Jisoo's hair to float about her face. Jisoo focuses on the strength of Lisa's hands, and tries not to meet her eyes.
Lisa gently nudges her chin up. "Pretty, unnie," she purrs. Her eyes are so bright, and something awakens, roars in Jisoo's chest. "Someone's going to be lucky one day."
This hurts. Not the insinuation, not the tone of Lisa's voice, not even her reckless words. It's the affection, the undeniable warmth of Lisa's gaze, and Jisoo can barely pry a sorry from the mess in her throat before she runs.
It's beautiful and it's red, and it's covering the bathroom floor in regret. Jisoo counts three buds and doesn't even bother with the petals.
Lisa taps the door frantically, gently. "I'm so sorry, Jisoo. That was dumb. Open the door, unnie. I'm sorry."
Jisoo ignores her, and her legs quiver as she kneels. She picks up a full rose, wobbling just before its prime. This is as good as it gets, she thinks, and spits a mouthful of blood into her hands. Gold-pink lip gloss smears everywhere.
Six days, apparently, to gather, draw themselves into this.
I'm sorry, too.
Jennie barely brushes her knuckles against the door before letting herself in.
She's...softer than usual, if Jisoo dares to consider it. Not all sharp movements and quick conclusions, if that counts for anything. She perches on the edge of Jisoo's bed and rubs slow circles into Jisoo's back. Her silhouette is traced in bronze by the light coming in from the hallway.
Jennie is quiet for a while. This is new, Jisoo keeps in, because she doesn't want it all to break and fall away again, not yet.
"I heard you a couple days ago," Jennie starts out tentatively.
"Yeah," Jisoo responds after a loop of tense silence.
"It's only been a couple months."
"Yeah."
"Jisoo."
"I know."
Jennie inhales, exhales. Closes her eyes. Looks too sad for her own good, though she struggles against it. "I'm trying to look at it from your side. But it's progressing fast and I can't keep delaying preparations for a comeback."
Jisoo rolls onto her back. "Jennie. Stop. Talk to me like a person."
Her leader lets it all out in a ragged breath. "Jisoo, I love you. As much as I can, anyway. And the surgery is the only way I can make sure I won't lose you. If we all pooled together our money--"
"I couldn't," Jisoo cuts in. "Jennie, I couldn't. I don't want to be..."
Her eyes widen. Jennie's narrow slightly, but she doesn't read angry. Just tired.
"To be like me," Jennie finishes. "I understand."
She closes the door with all the care of someone who can't show they're hurting, and Jisoo's heart pinches even more.
The roses drag up blood this time around, and Jisoo knows she won't be singing for a long, long while.
Not like I had lines anyway, she figures, and feels disgusted with herself. The overwhelming red is sickeningly pretty.
"I feel like you're keeping something from me," Lisa jokes when Chaeyoung's fingertips linger on Jisoo's back a moment too long, but it's not as funny as it could have been, maybe something to do with the hurt Lisa can't quite hide away.
And maybe it would have been fine, maybe they could have forgotten and carried on, but Jisoo can't look away, galaxies on the tip of her tongue and panic, panic rising up alongside blood and flowers. Her silence says too much, of course, and Lisa can read her like a magazine.
"Wait," Lisa's eyes widen further, and Jisoo can feel the puzzle pieces snap together for her. "Jisoo. You don't--"
She doesn't let her finish; Jisoo pushes away from the table and stumbles to her room.
There is too much blood.
Jisoo should be scared, but she is only empty.
i'm so sorry, Lisa messages her.
don't be, she replies.
come over, she texts Chaeyoung, because her head is swimming and it all blurs into one and Chaeyoung understands. All she can see is red. A dark ruby she can taste. Thick and potent. quick.
Why couldn't I fall in love with Chaeyoung? she asks herself. Perfect, caring Chaeyoung, who would love her back like that. Why someone so prominent and vibrant and unfairly, unthinkably strong? Someone who could never love her even halfway?
Because Lisa, she reminds herself. Lisa, Lisa, Lisa.
Chaeyoung bursts in and nearly screams and holds Jisoo up like she can't let her touch the floor, chanting her name like a prayer: Jisoo, Jisoo, Jisoo, but Jisoo isn't thinking about that.
She's thinking about Lisa and her radiant smile and how cruelly beautiful she is, with the sunlight dripping from her cheekbones and so much love, so much love, and none of it for Jisoo.
She's thinking about the darkness swallowing her up, but she's wanting Lisa's laughter, her summertime voice, to snip away a piece of and carry with her.
When Jisoo does wake up, it could be from a sleep, if not for the blood still spilled across the floor, staining carpet and soaking into petals. Lisa is clasping her hand, head bowed. The room spins, but slows like a halo around Lisa.
Jisoo can almost breathe freely; it's a paralyzing sensation.
Lisa stirs, blinking back to the room, eyes murky and dark. She strains to smile when she notices Jisoo sitting against the headboard. Her hand tightens around Jisoo's for a moment.
"You scared us," she whispers. "We were really scared Jisoo."
"Lisa," Jisoo pulls her hand away and wraps it around her neck. "What...I can breathe. Did you--"
"Yeah," Lisa interrupts. She brings Jisoo's hand back up to her lips, and hesitates before brushing a bittersweet kiss across her knuckles. Jisoo isn't sure if Lisa is more hesitant to hurt herself, or to hurt Jisoo, and wonders if it even matters. Probably not. "I-- I could fall in love with you, unnie. I really could."
Her voice is hopeful, if desperate. I don't want love out of pity, Jisoo almost blurts, but, then again, she'd hate to lie.
Because she does. She wants Lisa's love any way she can get it.
Lisa watches her. Big, concerned eyes. Glistening.
Jisoo smiles back and swallows hard, hard enough to send away the petals still collecting in the hollow of her throat. It's enough.