Letterman (Chaennie)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"So." Jennie says awkwardly as they reach the front door. Her voice comes out too rough, but she fails to notice it. Her mind is stripped down to the girl standing in front of her. Nothing else matters. 

Not the fact that her chances of making it in on time for curfew are dwindling the longer they stay here. Not the fact that her parents could be watching them from inside the house. Not the fact that Rosie's friends are only a few feet away, lingering on the sidewalk and pretending not to be watching Jennie and Rosie say their goodbyes. Not the fact that she can hear Lisa tapping her foot against the pavement absurdly loudly to show her impatience—though, the sound is a bit of a mood killer.

"So." Rosie repeats, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She sounds a little eager, a little shy, and Jennie nearly melts at just hearing her voice.

"So." Jennie nervously bounces up and down on her heels. She stops immediately once she realizes what she's doing. She should say something.

Do something.

(Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her, kiss her—)

Yet, all rational thought seems to escape her the longer that she gazes into Rosie's pretty, brown eyes. Jennie sways closer without thinking, pulled to Rosie like a magnet, but she stops herself from closing the short distance between them when she catches how Rosie's eyes widen. In surprise? In alarm? Her mind runs rampant with a thousand possibilities, each one worse than the next. Does Rosie not want to kiss her goodnight?

She struggles to shake the thought away, feeling a twinge of hurt at the idea. She tells herself that she's being irrational—they had been doing just fine during dinner—but the doubt still lingers.

She's pretty sure that they're far past being friends now, but they're definitely not dating either. At least, not for real. She wants to kiss Rosie so badly, wants to touch her, wants to hold her and never let her go, but what if that's not what Rosie wants?

Jennie stares hard at Rosie, wanting to pry open the girl's head and get a peek at her thoughts.

Rosie glances up at her from beneath her lashes, lip pulled between her teeth, and her eyes drift to Jennie's jaw. They land on Jennie's neck—on the sore, bruised spots she sucked into the flesh of Jennie's throat less than an hour before—and Jennie feels a jolt deep within her abdomen. "Sorry for marking you like a common harlot."

Jennie barks out a laugh. "Don't worry. I forgive you."

The knot in her chest loosens as Rosie giggles at her joke. She finds herself trailing after the sound, leaning in close, so close, her head growing light in a way that should be concerning. She discovers that she doesn't care all that much.

"Good. I thought you'd be mad forever." Rosie smirks and it's almost flirty, the way that she does it. Jennie swallows. Fuck.

"Hey!" Lisa yells, effectively breaking them out of their moment. Jennie snaps upright and turns her head to see the blonde waving her arms back and forth obnoxiously. "I know young love is important and all but so is curfew. If you two could stop eye-fucking each other and get a move on, that'd be great!"

Rosie coughs awkwardly and dips her head, but that does nothing to conceal the dark blush rising on her cheeks. Jennie would usually appreciate the color, savor it, but she's far too embarrassed to pay attention.

They were not... eye-fucking.

Jennie gulps, her head swarming with dangerous thoughts, heat spreading right beneath her skin. They're not fucking in any manner of the word, but the thought of it makes her—