Work Text:
1
Lisa sighed drearily, the hot coffee splashing in her cup dangerously as she carelessly waved her hand around, setting her purse down and plopping down onto her chair. She sighed once again, eyes protesting the bright lights of the room that seemed to blind her wherever she turned, and sipped on her coffee lightly, yet to feel the caffeine buzzing through her body like a drug.
“Rough night, huh?” She hears a familiar voice speak, and she can’t even be bothered to open her eyes because she’s very aware of who it is, and that person is obligated to deal with her grumpy and sleepy state all day anyways.
“Mmhm. Spent all night trying to put together that stupid IKEA wardrobe by myself. Fuckin’ nightmare.” She said, lifting her head and somehow peeling her eyes open, meeting a bush of wavy black hair and chocolate eyes as she did so. Jisoo’s smile as she sipped on her own coffee kind of pissed off Lisa - how was she always in such a good mood? Couldn’t she respect Lisa’s grouchy state, and therefore be grouchy as well?
“I’m kinda regretting moving here now. What if I change jobs in like, 2 months, and I have to move to a new place again?” Lisa continues nevertheless, opening her laptop that was showered with cat pictures and stickers all over, and weakly pressing the on button with a groan.
“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you moved.” Jisoo’s point does make sense, but Lisa’s not in the mood for that, and she shoots her an annoyed glare before pulling her chair closer to the table, ready to start working again.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, dude.” Jisoo speaks after she’s met with silence and realises Lisa is actually annoyed. “Every major media company ever is within 2 blocks from here. You moved so you don’t have to commute, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Lisa mutters after sipping on her coffee again. Opening her to-do lists and programs, she already feels overwhelmed, especially when she checks the tons and tons of glitches and bugs on the company’s website that she has to fix.
“Jesus Christ.” she mumbles under her breath, the way she knows only Jisoo can hear, as her tired eyes run over the paragraphs of code that pop up on screen. “I was joking about the changing jobs thing, but God fuckin’ damn. I’m considering leaving this place already.”
Jisoo does nothing but snort into her coffee in response, and Lisa doesn’t even have time to roll her eyes with the amount of work she has to take up.
What she does have time to do, however, is take notice of the empty seat on her right, the space feeling oddly quiet.
“Hey.” Lisa speaks up, turning her head to Jisoo in confusion. “Where’s Jennie?”
“Oh, they switched her team, ‘cause we got a newbie. She’s there, with Doyeon and the rest.” Jisoo offhandedly points to a table in the very corner of the room, where Jennie sat with one earphone in, smiling apologetically at Lisa when she noticed the two staring.
“Newbie?”
“Yeah, you haven’t heard? Joy met her at a Starbucks, apparently they live in the same building, too. According to her, the girl’s super fucking cute.” Jisoo explained, and Lisa furrowed her eyebrows.
“Nah, no one told me. How could they just switch my partner like that? Shouldn’t I be given a notice, or, like, something?”
“They’re not obligated to give you shit, Lisa. You know they rotate teams all the time.” Jisoo says, and just at that moment, Lisa’s head turns to the figure walking through the door and her heart stops.
Okay, fucking cute was an understatement.
Lisa could feel her eyes almost opening at their own will, heart bursting with what Lisa assumed was the large quantities of caffeine kicking in, happiness springing through the entirety of her body like a lit firework, suddenly feeling more alive than ever, as the girl made her way over to the table. Her breath got caught in her throat just by looking at the dashing blonde -
She was beautiful.
No, beautiful was insufficient. An understatement, surely.
She was gorgeous . She glowed, shined brighter and prettier than all the piercing lights of the office that gave Lisa headaches on hangover mornings combined, shined lighter than every star across the whole sky. She was dashing, and Lisa was pretty sure she could see bits and pieces of the sun in her warm eyes. Something about her was so light, so beautiful, so dreamy - something about her made you want to stare at her forever, to never tear your gaze away from her figure because you could just never get enough. She couldn’t be real.
Something about her made Lisa happy - happier than she’d been in a while. It’s almost like she was sunshine personified, staggeringly beautiful and carrying happiness with every step. And that’s why Lisa hadn’t even noticed the girl had already made it over to her desk and tried to greet Lisa who just blinked at her in awe. Fortunately, a jab in the ribs does the trick and she awakens from the trance, met with a shy but dashing smile and an outstretched hand.
“Hey, I’m Roseanne! I’m new here.” She says, voice a bit shaky from what Lisa assumed was nervousness.
“Are you… uh, alright?” Her smile falters a bit and hand drops ever so slightly at the lack of reaction, but Lisa quickly snaps back into reality, stretching out her own shaky hand.
“Um, hi, yes! I’m, uh, fine.” She shakes the girl’s hand. It’s warm - not overbearingly warm, not feverish hot - a nice, familiar warm, like a hug or a nice mug of cocoa. Yeah, she might as well be crafted of sunshine.
The awkward silence makes Lisa remember she forgot something.
“Oh! I’m, uh, Lisa. Lalisa Manoban, but you-you can call me Lisa. At your service.” She nervously chuckles at the end, and Roseanne nods, smile still plastered on her face. The blonde lets go of Lisa’s hand (her hand feels strangely empty without Roseanne’s in it) and sits down next to her.
“I’m… I’m your partner, I guess. You… I’m the, uh, head software developer, and I assume you-you’re a graphic designer?” Lisa’s cheeks heat up the longer she speaks because of the way her tongue seems to tie around itself and she trips over her words, but it seems like Roseanne doesn’t mind as she smiles politely and nods, opening her new laptop that the company had set up for her.
“Yeah, I am. Well, I look forward to working with you, Lisa.” She says, and god damnit, Lisa loves the way her name sounds so nice coming out of her mouth. The younger turns back to her work, cheeks still flaming, and Roseanne speaks again.
“Also, you can call me Rosie.” She says, and Lisa turns to face her. The girl jokingly bows her head and tips her nonexistent hat. “At your service.”
God fucking damnit, Lisa thinks as she feels Jisoo burning holes into her back from her own table where she disappeared to after Lisa had managed to finally speak to Rosie.
I’m done for.
2
Despite what Lisa might’ve said a month ago, Rosie was a much better partner than Jennie.
Lisa loves Jennie to death, but she has to give credit where it’s due - Rosie gets her coffee better than Lisa can even get it for herself, the homemade cookies she brings in sometimes are the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted, her random, weird, but funny jokes can fix a weary Monday and maybe, just maybe, her face is very nice to stare at. Because, no matter how many days seem to pass by, Lisa still feels oddly entranced by how beautiful and shiny Rosie is, at all times.
And she isn’t the only one either, because when Rosie meets Lisa’s equally annoying (Rosie says endearing and funny) friends Jisoo and Jennie, their eyes go glossy whenever they look in Rosie’s direction, and somehow, the mood is a hell of a lot brighter whenever she’s around, no matter how bad things may be.
Lisa obviously isn’t kind of mad about it because she obviously didn’t think it might be some kind of soulmate bond between them that makes her feel that way.
Whatever.
Because Rosie is such a people magnet, and everyone’s eyes gloss over in awe when they look at her, she’s now holding Lisa’s hand as she carefully drags her out of the club where she’d been persuaded to come for Jennie’s birthday, her other hand warm and soothing on Lisa’s back.
Lisa stumbled and stuttered and giggled and tripped over her own feet every few seconds, heart and body buzzing with alcohol as she made her way down the street, eyes blurry but heart content.
She liked this. She liked the breeze of cold wind on her face as opposed to the suffocating air inside the club, she liked the way her mind was entirely at peace, no worries of work or rent clogging her mind, she liked the way she was relaxed, she liked the way everything was funny, she liked the way Rosie made her so happy just by being there and she liked the warm presence next to her, reminding her at every single step she’s not alone.
Somewhere amidst the giggling and laughter and incoherent thoughts, Rosie had guided her to a plastic chair on the verge of breaking down, and they sat at an equally tarnished plastic table in front of an old, closed market that had been shut down since probably decades ago, staring into the night as a single streetlight that hung over them illuminated their faces.
It had been then that Lisa had turned her head towards Rosie.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the light blurriness that still stained her eyes, or maybe it was that damn streetlight that was turned in Rosie’s direction; Lisa knew one thing. This was the most beautiful Rosie had ever looked.
The streetlight flickered, it was old and probably illuminated more faces than Lisa could ever know, and that’s why everything around it was still half swallowed in darkness, but Lisa swore she could see Rosie so unbelievably clearly, as if it was midday. Lisa saw her glowing, shining in the dark like a star, like a bright lightbulb, like a shiny diamond under the burning sun. She swore she could see stardust falling off her shoulders and tiny stars entangled in her hair, making her look like a goddess of some sort -
Or maybe it was the alcohol.
But it didn’t matter, because Lisa figured she liked seeing her like this. She liked messy hair Rosie, who had bits and strands of long blonde hair sticking out everywhere. She liked shiny crop top and skirt Rosie that made her look like a disco ball - the clothes were wrinkled and pulled up in some places, but that’s what made her look even nicer. She liked the heels knocked off Rosie’s feet and when she rubbed them because they hurt too much. She liked messy makeup Rosie, whose lipstick was long gone and mascara left light stains below her eyes. She liked Rosie who, despite having to deal with her extremely drunk friends and way too many people hitting on her, still brightly grinned in her direction when she caught her staring.
“What ya staring at?” Rosie teased, arching an eyebrow as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Lisa fondly smiled, and then giggled, making eye contact.
“Nothin’.” She mumbled, and giggled again. Nothing was funny, but she was happy, and you don’t need to have an excuse to laugh, right?
“Hm?”
“I said I’m lookin’ at you.” Lisa said, louder this time.
“Why? Have I got something on my face?” She asked, and the teasing tone wasn’t missed, and Lisa knew she knew damn well she had nothing on that perfect face of hers.
“No. You’re just… very pretty, Rosie posie.” Lisa tilted her head and grinned, giggling louder when she saw the faintest blush appear on Rosie’s cheeks.
“Thank you. I think you’re prettier.” She responds. God, does this girl ever miss a beat?
“Maybe I am.” Lisa says, even though she doesn’t believe that one bit, and the conversation dies out quite nicely as they drown in comfortable silence, the only thing breaking the peace being the honks of cars and hollers of drunk people every so often, and Lisa’s quiet hiccups.
She looks over again as the wind brushes over Rosie’s face and tangles through the strands of her hair.
She looks heavenly.
Yeah, that’s the word. That’s the best one she can think of to describe Rosie. Heavenly. She looks like she jumped straight out of the Silver City.
Lisa had figured out she liked a lot of things that night, but her favorite was the girl sitting next to her in a half broken, white, plastic chair, gorgeous by doing nothing but breathing.
Yeah, okay. Maybe she liked Rosie a tiny bit. Who cares.
3
Nobody really knows when, or how the two became best friends.
It just happened. One day they started coming into work wearing matching socks and showing them to anyone who would care enough to laugh, wordlessly exchanging emotions to one another, oddly calling in sick on the same days and sharing every bit of food they got their hands on, and everyone simply accepted it.
Turns out being in love with your best friend wasn’t exactly ideal.
So of course, the next best move was trying to move on by desperately starting relationships within a month of talking over Tinder, and pretending to be surprised when they cheat on you three months into the already unstable relationship.
Lisa feels bad for crying about it and being upset in the first place; even though she knows this is exactly how she’s supposed to be feeling, she has no right to be sobbing over this when she always liked a certain blonde better than her girlfriend. No matter who, or what it may be - she just always seemed to like Rosie better.
That’s why she was wetting Rosie’s oversized grey sweatshirt right now, weeping into her shoulder as the older held her so carefully and gently that Lisa felt she was about to melt into a puddle. Maybe she wasn’t so upset that she turned out to be nothing more than a side chick - in reality, she wasn’t. She was upset that she was crying into Rosie’s shoulder right now, shaking in her arms, so helpless, knowing that she could never meet those lips that spewed soothing words in a kiss, knowing she wasn’t Rosie’s comfort place like Rosie was hers. Or maybe she was - but not in the same way.
Never in the same way.
She would never feel the jitters Lisa feels whenever she looks at her, she would never nervously sweat in both anticipation and odd excitement whenever Lisa fed her like when she fed her, she would never feel that warmth in her heart and the pit of her stomach whenever Lisa landed a peck on her cheek - she would never, because she was always so endearing with everyone, and Lisa was no exception.
And those thoughts alone make her weep more.
However, Rosie is Rosie, and whenever Lisa is in her presence, she feels so much better. It felt like Rosie infinitely radiated positive energy from her entire being, and she didn’t have to do anything but stand there to make Lisa feel better. Yet she did more. She soothed her, told her how anyone would be lucky to have her, how she’ll be alright in the end and how she’ll find the one.
I found the one, I just don’t think I’m her one, Lisa bitterly thinks.
But the bitterness never stays long. It’s always passing, because Rosie’s hands find themselves in Lisa’s hair, and Rosie’s perfume (which Lisa had never smelled before, and couldn’t seem to find in any other store, but lord, did it smell fucking heavenly ) engulf her whole being, and she’s suddenly fine. Rosie mended all her wounds, no matter how large and how bad.
Rosie always seemed to make it alright.
Lisa always joked it was fucking magic, and Rosie always laughed it off.
Almost like Rosie was made to always make it alright by default.
4
It’s a nice, quiet October night in Lisa’s apartment where Rosie and Lisa rested together on Lisa’s tiny couch - her head placed on Rosie’s thighs where the blonde lightly scratched at her scalp and reassuringly ran her fingers through her hair.
They watched some Netflix sitcom in comfortable silence as the rain poured outside, tapping on the windows calmingly. Lisa was calm as always - you couldn’t really be that mad, sad, upset, or nervous around Rosie. Her presence itself was almost unbearably calming.
“That’s us.” Lisa made some passing comment when she saw two girl characters hugging on screen, and Rosie chuckled, humming in agreement quietly.
Annnnnnd, the characters kiss. Oops.
Lisa unconsciously swallows.
“Totally us.” Rosie breathes out, and Lisa’s breath gets stuck in her throat once again. Where had the joking tone gone?
“Huh?”
“I said, the two kissing - it’s us.” She repeats, as if it’s nothing, and Lisa visibly tenses, which Rosie seems to either not notice or ignore.
Lisa nervously laughs, assuming it’s a joke. Rosie says nothing.
A few minutes pass. It’s forgotten. Lisa sighs, seeing a man propose to a woman on the TV. It seems like the universe had decided to very evidently remind her of how lonely she is.
“Man, I want someone to love me that much.” She mutters as the camera focuses on the shiny ring.
“I love you that much.”
Lisa’s heart stops.
“Right.” She snorts, and hopes she doesn’t sound as nervous as she is and also hopes Rosie can’t somehow hear her beating heart.
“I’m serious.”
Fingers still thread through her hair. How is Rosie so fucking calm ?
“Yeah, obviously. But I mean, like, love me… that way, you know.”
“I love you that way.”
What?
Lisa suddenly lifts her head and looks at Rosie in disbelief, who is as indifferent as she’d ever been.
“You… huh?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you.”
She says it so casually, so indifferently, on such a boring October night as the rain pours and the apartment overheats, that it makes Lisa want to rip her hair out.
She can’t believe her ears.
“You… can’t be serious.” Lisa laughs in disbelief, and her voice cracks roughly 7 times throughout the 4 words that form the sentence, because there’s no fucking way her ears are working right now.
“Want me to prove it?” Rosie moves closer. Lisa swallows.
“H-How?”
Rosie pulls her in by the neck, lips connecting softly. That’s when Lisa feels it.
Her eyes are open, and fuck.
Rosie is glowing. Like, actually glowing.
Her skin shines as bright as ever, her face blindingly white and shining like a fucking block of silver, and Lisa can’t believe it, because she can practically feel the light between their lips too. It feels like some sort of exchanging energy - she can’t even explain it but it feels so fucking good and it sends a shiver down her spine as she pulls Rosie even closer and kisses back fiercely.
Lisa feels her body lighting up too. She feels fucking immortal. Her hands jitter and the hairs on her body stand up and she feels like she’s flying because Rosie’s lips are so soft and her perfume is so strong and her hands are so pretty and it feels like everything in the world is right.
The high ends abruptly when Rosie pulls away, and Lisa wants to wipe that stupid smirk off her face. If I knew it was that easy and would feel this good, I would’ve done it months ago!
“Told you.”
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again, you sack of shit.”
And as they make out on Lisa’s tiny couch on a rainy October night as a sitcom plays in the background, Lisa knows her eyes couldn’t have been deceiving her.
Rosie was glowing.
She was more beautiful than ever.
5
“Rosie… baby…” Lisa mumbled out through a mouthful of food, hearing Rosie giggle at her failed attempt at speaking properly before she replies.
“Yes?”
“Who… the fuck… taught you… to make food this good? Your dad’s a fucking… ugh…” she stops as she swallows down the food and savors the taste. “...miracle worker.”
Rosie giggles, hitting her lightly with the mitten.
“You give me way too much credit.”
“No, I’m serious! Like how the fuck…” she shoves another huge piece of meat pie into her mouth. “This has to be some fucking… voodoo shit… you’re crazy.”
Rosie loudly laughs. “Is this your first time eating food, babe?”
“It might as well be!” Lisa dramatically widens her eyes, sending Rosie into another laughing fit. “‘Cause this… this is food.” she points at the pie with her fork.
“Aw, thank you.” Rosie grins, and Lisa swears she’d do anything to see that smile plastered on her face forever.
“About your dad…” Rosie visibly stiffens. “When do I get to meet him? You’ve already met my parents.”
Rosie shifts in her chair, noticeably uncomfortable.
“...Well, uh, I don’t know. When he visits, I guess. I can’t be sure.”
Lisa smiles assuringly, dropping the topic since Rosie clearly didn’t wanna talk about it.
“Okay then, when he visits.”
Lisa places a grossly greasy kiss on her cheek, and Rosie blushes, giggling at the gesture and jokingly slapping her thigh with the mitten again.
Lisa has a feeling she won’t meet the dad anytime soon.
+1
Lisa stepped into their shared apartment, taking off her coat and placing it on the hanger, not thinking about anything in particular except that she was really fucking tired and just wanted to place the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and pass out immediately after.
However, her hazy state of mind didn’t last long when she heard loud, pained sobs and cries coming from the bathroom.
Without thinking for even a second, she dropped the bags next to her feet and ran towards the source of the sound, yelling her girlfriend’s name.
“Rosie!”
And there Rosie was. On the floor of their bathroom, shaking, crying, wailing in pain as she sat in a small puddle of blood, large, feathery, white wings protruding through her naked back.
Lisa watched the scene in horror, the blonde rocking back and forth on the floor as if in a trance, tears running one after another. When she looks up and sees a terrified Lisa, even more sobs wreck her body.
“Th-they… they won’t go back…” She cried, and Lisa dropped to her knees, immediately pulling Rosie’s head into her chest, as the taller kept crying into her blouse.
“It h-hurts…” Rosie flexed her back and let out another wail as the wings flexed along with it, and Lisa lightly petted them with a shaky hand, unsure of what to do.
Seems like it was the right call, as Rosie lightly whined, but seemingly not out of pain.
“Th-that… it feels n-nice.” She hiccupped, and Lisa kept gently petting at the wings, doing her best not to hurt the trembling girl in her arms. Dried blood circled the openings where Rosie’s wings came from. Lisa doesn’t even want to imagine how badly that must hurt.
She manages to calm Rosie down and soothe the pain, despite her brain running a hundred miles per hour, not being able to comprehend all of this. The taller tries to flex her back again, and she cries out in pain as soon as she does it, but Lisa pulls her in closer and shushes her, petting her wings again.
“Don’t flex them yet… it’ll probably take a bit to-to get used to it.” She doesn’t even know what she’s talking about, but it seems to work, because Rosie relaxes in her arms.
And even though it’s too much to fucking comprehend, Lisa smugly thinks.
I fucking knew it.
(1.2)
Lisa sat on the now larger couch, watching TV in the darkness of the room as her girlfriend laid next to her, obviously slowly dozing off to sleep, snuggled in blankets and the feathers of her own pearly white wings. She looks down at her angel of a girlfriend, and grins.
“Hey, Rosie? Did it hurt?”
“Hm?”
“When you fell from heaven?”
She gets hit by a pillow, that doesn’t succeed in wiping the extremely smug grin off her face. “Shut up, Lisa.”