lover | (chaesoo)

there'll be happiness after you

"Rosie! Are you ready to— hey, why aren't you ready yet?"

Jisoo gave me a questioning look when she walked into the living room of her one-bedroom apartment, head tilted to the side with her brows furrowed as she looked between me and my hand sitting on my luggage handle.

There was a look of clear and utter confusion painted on her face, but that expression completely changed into one of sadness when she saw my other hand holding on tightly to my passport.

She was decked out in head to toe merchandise from our (her) favorite soccer team, holding on tightly to two tickets she managed to snag for the both of us. South Korea versus Germany, the ticket says.

"And why do you have your luggage and passport out?"

The tone she used on me broke my heart. It was like a child asking about when their pet dog would wake up after watching them being run over by a truck.

And I feel like the parent that has to break down the truth that their pet dog isn't ever going to wake up ever again.

I know that she knew the answer, but I'm forced to break it down to her.

I sighed deeply.

In my version of an ideal world, Jisoo would see me with all my things and just help me get a taxi to drop me off at the airport, no questions asked. She would think that something happened and that I didn't want to talk about it, skirting around knowing something was wrong but not being courageous enough to push for the reason now.

She would help me out with my luggage out of the apartment, help me in putting it inside the trunk, hug me goodbye, tell me to call her when I land safely back home, and simply leave it at that.

But of course that isn't what happens.

Because here I am now, standing in the middle of Jisoo's living room with my luggage and my passport out, being questioned for why they're all out in the first place.

I knew this was going to happen, so of course I've come up with a lie as to why I suddenly had to cut this trip short.

"Work thing. They called me up last night, said they needed my help," I said as I looked down at my feet, tapping it gently against her wine-stained carpet.

Usually, when Jisoo hears me talk about work, she simply leaves it as it is. No further questions asked, not much opinion shared, and just accepts whatever I tell her no matter what it is. It had been the same for years, anyway. So when I told her that I needed to go back home because of work, I expected her to just nod and let me go.

It surprised me when she didn't.

I looked up from tapping my feet on the ground to see that there was a look of annoyance on her face, something I rarely see directed at me, but one I can recognize, nonetheless.

"Rosie," she said sternly. The tone made me grip onto my luggage handle tight. "You're telling me that they couldn't find anyone at all to do the job? And that they need you, of all people, to fly back across the globe to help them with their problem?"

I hummed, trying my best to be nonchalant about it even when my heart was beating out of my chest. I was so afraid she could hear it too.

"Yes."

The annoyed look on Jisoo's face quickly turned into one of anger, her free hand suddenly balled into a fist as she took heavy breaths. The sight made me gulp, scaring me because I've never seen this side of her before and I don't know what I just brought upon myself.

Still, I stood my ground. I stood there, still gripping onto my luggage handle as I watched her stare back at me with fire in her eyes. I expected her to yell at me, tell me I'm a terrible liar, or worse, call me out on my terrible attempt at a lie. I watched as her chest heaved with every breath she took as her eyes looked straight at me, and how her knuckles had turned white from how hard she had balled her fist.