Letterman (Chaennie)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Jennie sits in her living room, laying on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table as she stares blankly at the television screen. 

It's late at night and she's watching some shitty cartoon. Well, no, that's a lie. She's not exactly watching it, more looking ahead disinterestedly, letting her eyes unfocus so that her vision blurs.

Honestly, she's not really sure what she's looking at. The cartoon is fine. It's about... vampires and werewolves fighting? Dogs battling with cats? God knows what. She doesn't care. If she thinks about it, it doesn't really matter, not when Rosie is so far away, so far away from Jennie, off somewhere hating her guts.

It's only been about a day since she last saw Rosie, less than twenty-four hours, and yet it somehow feels as if it's been fucking years.

The knowledge that she's hurt Rosie's feelings eats away at her, gnaws just beneath her skin, and though she may look relatively comfortable, in actuality she's in utter agony.

She wishes that Rosie would talk to her, return her texts or calls, maybe even come by the house to see her, but she knows that won't happen.

She doesn't know what she did wrong.

But, if she's honest, she does. If she really thinks about it, she had done everything all wrong. First, she had shown up with Kai—fucking Kai, if there was anyone truly to blame, it was her damn ex-boyfriend—and then, when the time had come to fess up about her love for Rosie, she had choked.

Though she's angry, she can't find it in herself to blame Rosie for jumping to conclusions. If she was in the other girl's position, she probably would have reacted the exact same way.

Of course, Rosie is mad at her. She has every right to be. Of course, she wants nothing to do with Jennie after that whole interaction. Jennie sighs, running a stressed hand through her hair. Fuck. She just wants to go back in time to the night when she and Rosie went on that date, where they were kissing in the bathroom and everything was so perfect. She was happy, then. They were happy.

Hell, Jennie would even travel back to the time when they weren't happy. She would rather have fighting and bickering than silence. She just can't stand being ignored.

With a small huff of frustration, Jennie grabs the remote and shuts off the television, deciding to go to bed before she can hit a downward spiral.

She trudges up the stairs and starts to peel off her clothing the second that the door clicks shut behind her, suddenly hit with a strong wave of exhaustion. Though she's spent the day sitting on the couch, doing basically nothing, her body is heavy from a need for sleep. She barely manages to change into her pajamas, pulling on a baggy shirt and loose sweatpants, before she passes out on her bed.

As she sleeps, she gets caught in that wonderful state between a dream and unconscious, and is able to imagine that Rosie is lying in bed next to her. That Rosie is whispering in her ear, lulling her to sleep with soothing touches and gentle kisses along her heated skin. That Rosie has forgiven her, has come back to her, and has come back to stay. That Rosie loves her. But, when the morning light comes, the bed is empty and Jennie is all alone. She wakes up crying.

It takes her a ridiculous amount of time to get out of bed, shower, get ready for school, and walk downstairs for breakfast. Her feet move as if they intend to fuse to the floor and trap her there. She wonders when she got so pathetic.

Was it only yesterday or had it been a slow process, something that had begun weeks ago and she had only just noticed? How long has she been in love with Rosie Park? Days? Weeks? Months?