stalked (jenlisa)

chapter twelve

Jennie's still in my arms when I wake. Finally. This feels right. It may be a couple more weeks before I can make a move without her rejecting me, but I could wait. Even longer if I had to. I didn't want to pursue her whilst she was so emotionally damaged, but we were to be anyway. It was inevitable. What would it matter if it happened sooner rather than later?

The girl in my arms groans softly and stirs, her eyes opening a little before the sunlight hits them and she shuts them tight again, turning into my chest where it's darker.

"Hi, Jen." She just groans. "Come on, you should eat something; you didn't last night."

"Water," she whispers with a dry mouth.

"Okay. I'll be right back."

"No." She gasps and grabs onto my shirt.

"Jennie, I have to get out of bed to get you water."

After a moment's hesitation, she nods and releases me. I get out of bed and see her pull the sheets over her tighter when I do. I make quick work of getting a glass of water for her and bringing it back.

"I have your water, Jennie. Sit up."

Jennie does as I say, and she looks just as bad as she did last night, if not worse. I had never grieved before or seen someone in grieving. The whole concept seemed a little dramatic for me, but I would play the role of the dutiful girlfriend, or friend even, for Jennie's sake and help her through this.

She takes small sips from the glass, sitting and staring at nothing. Her eyes are still red, but now they look soulless. Maybe as dead as her boyfriend.

"I'm so sorry, Jennie," I lie through my teeth. Jennie just nods and takes another sip. "Is there anything I can do?"

"There's nothing anyone can do." Jennie's voice is deeper and raspier than it usually is. Adorable. "His family will plan the funeral and I'll help with what I can, though I think I'd prefer to just turn up."

"You do whatever you feel comfortable doing, Jennie. I know it hurts but you need to let yourself grieve."

"I should probably take a shower," she says.

"Yeah, you should," I agree.

Jennie eyes me curiously and a tiny little smirk appears on her face. "Are you saying I stink, Lisa?"

"Of course I am, you reek," I tease and she laughs. A full laugh, not a half-hearted one and it makes me feel infinitely better seeing her happier, for even a split second.

"Okay. I'll go shower if you go down and make breakfast."

"Deal." We shake hands and both leave to complete our tasks.

I get to work making pancakes since I already knew Jennie liked them.

She's upstairs showering. Go take a peek.

Can't do that. Not yet. Need to keep making pancakes and forget about the fact that Jennie is upstairs, naked, with water running down her.

Make the pancakes. This is the mantra I repeat over and over to keep myself from running up the stairs and bursting into Jennie's bathroom. It works because before I even realise it, Jennie is downstairs, and the batter is in the pan.

"Hey," she says as she approaches, sitting on a stool.

"Hi. You feeling better?"

"Yeah, a little."

She looks a lot better. Refreshed. Her eyes have a little sparkle back in them and her face isn't dry from all the tears. Her hair is wet down her shoulder. She looks beautiful. I love seeing her like this, bare-faced and just woken up. It makes our relationship more intimate, as it should be.