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Jennie is awake when her bedroom door swings open.
It’s not that she’s afraid of thunderstorms, not really. She just has twitchy nerves, and she’s convinced the thunder sounds louder from the twentieth floor of YG’s apartment building. Up here, she’s in the sky. Lighting flashes and strobelights her whole room, growing and shrinking shadows in a second. Wind howls. Thunder rumbles. The sound surrounds her completely, crashes over her like a tidal wave. Up here, she’s in the heart of the storm.
She’s always had sensitive nerves, always been the easiest to startle. The kids in elementary school called her a scaredy-cat. Whatever. She can live with that. She hasn’t been in elementary school for a long time now.
She’s a big girl, and logically she knows she’s perfectly safe tucked deep into bed, in the heart of a multimillion dollar apartment complex, with her three best friends in rooms just down the hall. Logically she knows if she just relaxes, she’ll be able to get lost in the drumming of the rain and be well-rested for a busy schedule tomorrow.
Logically, logically, and her body refuses to listen. She’s not afraid of thunderstorms, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still startle her.
She’s crammed noise-cancelling earbuds into her ears, curled up around her plush bear and turned away from the window. She can’t stop it, though. The way lighting flashes up the inside of her eyelids, and her whole body tenses in anticipation of the cracking blast about to come, waiting, waiting, waiting…
When the thunder hits, every time the thunder hits, she feels it in the jolt of her heart and the shake of her shoulders. She can’t stop it.
She’s just resigned herself to a long, miserable, sleepless night when her bedroom door leaks dim light in from the hall.
“Wha-“ she props herself up a little, peering at the silhouette slipping into her room. She pulls out the earbuds.
Long legs, long arms, bouncy tiptoes and Lisa slides on top of Jennie’s covers. Jennie is absolutely certain. It’s Lisa’s weight, Lisa’s scent, Lisa’s quiet, excited breathing. Lighting flashes, and Jennie gets a split-second of bangs, wide eyes, wide smile. The world fades black, thunder booms, and Jennie flinches.
“Lisa-ya,” she whispers, flipping over to face the other girl, heart still pounding from the latest blast. “What are you doing?”
She feels, more than sees Lisa’s shrug, shoulders rustling over the topside of the blanket.
“I got scared, Unnie.”
This is bullshit.
Jennie knows as soon as the words leave Lisa’s mouth. Storms don’t scare Lisa. Nothing scares Lisa. If Jennie’s childhood title was scaredy-cat, Lisa’s would have been daredevil. The Thai girl is fearless: heights, insects, loud noises, the ocean; the deep, the dark, the unknown.
Lisa is not scared of a thunderstorm.
“I don’t believe you,” Jennie prods, poking Lisa’s side and causing her to squirm. “Get under here, you’ll freeze.”
“Really,” Lisa protests, scooching up the bed to get her feet, legs, torso under Jennie’s blanket. “Really, really, Jennie-unnie, I was scared of the thunder.” If Jennie looks hard, she can almost see the whites of Lisa’s imploring eyes, shining in the dim grey of Seoul’s light pollution.
Thunder cracks again and Jennie cringes and Lisa doesn’t. After a slight but noticeable delay, Lisa has enough savvy to pull the covers up by her chin and shiver a little. “See? Scary.”
The pocket of air under the duvet is getting warm from the heat of two people now, and Jennie shifts down closer to Lisa, head easily settling into the pillow facing her.
“I don’t believe you,” Jennie says again, quietly, because Lisa isn’t scared of anything and Jennie is scared of everything, and there’s a reason Lisa’s here right now and Jennie wants to hear her say it.
Instead of responding, Lisa jerks her ice-cold feet against Jennie’s calf, causing her to writhe away, shrieking once, before slapping a hand over her own mouth. Thunder rolls. This time, Jennie doesn’t flinch.
“Shhhh!” Lisa admonishes, grinning bright teeth into the dark. “You’ll wake everyone up!”
Jennie shoves back at her, playfully. “What about me? Ya! What about me, what if I had been asleep? You can’t just sneak into other people’s rooms and wake them up!”
Jennie’s not trying very hard to push, and Lisa’s stronger anyway, and so when Lisa rolls completely on top of Jennie, squashing her into the mattress, no one is really surprised.
Lisa, giggling, presses her face into the pillow next to Jennie’s head, lying spread-eagle like a starfish over all of Jennie’s limbs. Jennie lets out a low groan.
“Can’t...breathe…”
Lisa mutters something inaudible into the pillow. Her hair is in Jennie’s mouth. Thunder booms again and Jennie’s heart skips and her body tries to shake but it can’t because Lisa is weighing her down.
“What?” Jennie asks, squirming, trying to dislodge the other girl.
Lisa speaks again, and the sound is muted by the pillow, and the sound is reverberating in Jennie’s chest. Lisa places her hands on either side of Jennie’s head and pushes herself up, freeing Jennie to take a deep breath. Their faces are very close.
“I said,” starts Lisa, black hair falling around her head and brushing over Jennie’s face so it cocoons them in their own world, “I knew you weren’t sleeping.” Her voice is low, and Jennie feels it all over.
“How?” she challenges. The heat under the blanket is uncomfortable now, but Jennie couldn’t move even if she wanted to.
“I just did,” Lisa replies, slowly, like she's choosing her words carefully. “I just do. I know. We must be connected or something, y’know? Like magic.”
Jennie searches the dim space above her for Lisa’s eyes. She’s expecting them to be shining with a joke. Instead, they’re locked on hers, serious.
This is also bullshit.
Jennie jerks her hips and pulls at Lisa’s waist with both hands. Off balance, Lisa slips back onto the mattress, but immediately cuddles close.
“Not fair,” she whispers, lips close to Jennie’s ear. “I was distracted.”
Jennie’s heart pounds for an entirely different reason. Suddenly, the storm seems very far away. Lisa’s arm snakes over Jennie’s waist.
“Lisa,” Jennie says, willing her pulse to slow, willing her temperature to drop, willing the thunder to stop so she can tell Lisa to go back to her own room and actually mean it.
“Mm.”
“You know I can’t fall asleep during thunderstorms.”
Lisa shifts closer, buries her face in Jennie’s neck. “Mm. Maybe.”
“So you came to help me sleep.”
Jennie feels Lisa smile against her skin. “No. What if I just like your room more than mine, huh? Not everything is about you, Nini.”
Jennie fights the grin at her nickname, tangles Lisa’s fingers in her own. “Liar.”
She lets her breathing even out, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the next flash of lightning. When it hits and her body tenses on instinct, Lisa’s arm around her waist tightens. Jennie screws her eyes shut, focusing on Lisa’s thumb brushing back and forth over her skin, just below her ribcage. It grounds her. Lisa wrapped around her...it makes her feel safe.
“I worry about your heart,” Lisa mumbles quietly. She’s so close that Jennie feels the vibrations of every word. “When you get scared, I get scared.”
As if to prove her point, something squeezes in Jennie’s chest. A good kind of squeeze, though. Not pain, just comfort.
“My heart is fine,” Jennie soothes. She’s almost sleepy.
“Sometimes it’s not,” Lisa says. “Sometimes, like, after rehearsal, when you get dizzy? You think no one notices, but I do.” Lisa shifts closer, pulls tighter, hooks a leg over Jennie’s. “I looked it up. The internet said it could be heart problems.”
Heat floods through Jennie’s body. She can feel it in her face. “ Lisa,” she says, because she doesn’t know what else to say.
“Your health...your... you,” Lisa stammers helplessly. “I just want to help.”
“You do help, Lili,” Jennie squeezes Lisa’s hand. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”
“Really? Never?” Lisa’s voice is fragile with hope.
Lightning. Thunder. Jennie doesn’t flinch.
“Never.”
“Good,” Lisa breathes. She presses her lips into Jennie’s neck. A split-second, but it’s a kiss all the same, and Jennie shivers and hopes Lisa can’t tell. “If there is ever something wrong with your heart, you can have mine.”
Jennie’s brain goes blank.
And then she’s violently squirming away.
“Ya, no! Lisa! The aegyo! Get away from me! That was so–” she’s laughing, and Lisa’s laughing, tickling her mercilessly. The moment is over, but this sort of feels like a better moment anyway, and the storm fades away into the steady patter of just rain.
“I’m sorry!” Lisa cries dramatically in english, trying to pull Jennie back, kicking out the blanket. “I’m sorry, come back!”
“Help! Jisoo-unnie, Chaeyo–” Jennie squeals, fending off Lisa’s outstretched arms. “Help!”
Lisa lunges and claps a hand over Jennie’s mouth. “Shhhh.” Everything goes still for a moment, as they both strain to listen to the sounds of the dorm. No footsteps.
Jennie licks Lisa’s palm.
“Ah!” Lisa jerks away in disbelief, eyes wide enough to see in the semi-dark. “You licked me!”
Jennie grins up at her, all teeth.
“You–” Lisa pounces, pulls Jennie back from the edge of the bed to the center. It’s okay. Jennie’s not trying very hard to escape, and Lisa’s stronger anyway.
~
Sometime later, they lie together side-by-side, listening to the gently pattering rain of a fading storm.
Jennie imagines how they must look from above: two girls, half-underneath the same duvet, heads on the same pillow. Lisa’s fingers interlaced with hers.
“Lisa-ya,” Jennie whispers. The night swallows the sound. Sleep pulls at her eyelids. “Thank you.”
Lisa doesn’t respond, and Jennie can feel her even breaths next to her ear. Asleep, then. Asleep, and Lisa hasn’t let go of her.