Jennie's What? - j.k

- 9 -

Jennie stared at me.

Her hand loosening around mine, the grip of her fingertips hanging on the cloth becoming distant, to the point where I discovered confusion and realization flash through her eyes. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her eyes never leaving mine.

I took a breath, my chest feeling like it was running out of air, looking at her like this - talking to her about this, a topic I have been avoiding ever since we were first years.

"Are we friends?" I asked, almost in a whisper only she could hear. "Best friends. Friends who always fucked each other when it is one beneficial to one?"

Her mouth gaped a little, and even though she didn't want me to catch her expression for she quickly composed herself, like she always does, I saw it. She stayed back, both of us looking at each other as if both of us were processing what was happening.

"Where is this coming from?" Jennie asked, tilting her head in confusion - though curiosity at the same time.

"It's a question I should've asked the moment we slept with each other back when we were first years," I let out, breaking eye contact for a moment, not liking the way she stared right back at me - though I looked right back at her while I could. "You are very confusing."

I stated this gently, not wanting any fight but rather, a talk.

"We are dating other people," she reminded me, and it was enough for me to close my eyes briefly. "You are dating Noze, you said."

"I don't see how that answers my question," I turned the topic back to what we were talking about because bringing up the dating thing hence my question of what we are, are too far off an answer. She was doing it, she was avoiding it. Like I knew she would. "I was asking where this kind of friendship stands. Are we friends with benefits?"

She only stared at me, not giving me any answers or whatsoever - I knew she was thinking because if she was not, the question should've been answered very quickly as if she was in a courtroom. And that alone, the fact that she had to think about what we had, what not normal friends does, strike a stab in my heart - a sign that she was unsure of what we have.

"I. . ." she trailed me waiting for an answer.

"I am very confused," I opened up to her, breaking down my stare and looking down my nails. "I am very confused with you, because. . .we do things friends don't normally do and you always make me feel things. You make me feel special, and then there are times that you don't, just like that - in a blink of an eye, and you get unreasonably jealous when I am with other people, which does not allow me to create friendships with them."

There was silence.

"I am crossing out the fact that you don't like me, you, at the very least, like me a bit, right?" I asked, looking up at her - only finding her eyes bore into mine. "Because. . .you wouldn't sleep with me if you don't like me. . . ." I was stating possibilities, making it better for the both of us, and I sound a bit pitiful because I was doing this, but here I was.

"We shouldn't talk about this kind of thing here." my eyes glazed at her with the word thing. "We will talk about this tomorrow, after the Chanel runway."

I watched her from the corner of my eye, Jennie going through her things before she made a move to stand up - making me chuckle the slightest, and she seemed to notice this.

"I find it funny how you always get mad at me when I run away from my problems, and look at you - you're the one running away from the discussion we are having. Is this a problem for you, Jennie?"