stalked (jenlisa)

chapter twenty-seven

It's been a week now and Jennie still hasn't gone back to normal. I felt completely helpless and had no idea how to fix it. Being sensitive around her and treating her like a princess wasn't working and neither was keeping my distance.

She never said anything. She never rejected me or pushed me away and she told me she loved me every time I said it to her. But she never initiated affection and she never told me she loved me first.

She was different. She's hiding it and pretending, but I know her. The way she acted with me before everything was exposed and now is very different. But even after I found out the truth, she still loved me. She begged me to forgive her and latched onto me every second she could, it was only after the thing with her mother that she started acting different.

Could she really have been fine with me torturing her but killing her abusive mother that she had kidnapped was crossing the line?

It didn't make sense. Her mother was a monster and she deserved to die. But Jennie still loved her. Not in the way she loved me. She still feared her and didn't like to get too close, but she loved her nonetheless. Now, it was like I replaced her mother as the monster. Perhaps she did still love me, but she wouldn't get too close, not of her own accord.

But did she fear me or hate me? And how would I go about fixing things?

Honestly, I'm not all surprised that she's having a hard time with what I did to her. I was feeling sick to my stomach myself, but not because of her mother, the other things I did to her were cruel. They satiated me at her expense, but I did care about Jennie, I had just been caught up in everything.

The lies, the betrayal, Jisoo, all of it fuelled my anger until I turned impassive. It didn't matter how much she begged, once she gave me full authority to punish her as I saw fit, darkness took over.

After it was over and the blackness dissolved back into the back of my mind, a surge of feelings flooded me. Regret, shame, anger, and insecurity. I was completely overcome with it when Jennie rejected my touch and made her sob.

She assured me she loved me and my mind eased a bit, but her actions spoke louder, and something was not right.

It was confusing though. She had no protests about moving in with me and had even taken the first steps for selling the house by contacting a real estate agent and putting it on the market. She returned to work and her internship and came home to me every night. It was everything I wanted, but something wasn't right.

Any time I confront her she tells me everything's alright and that I'm overthinking, but it's easy to overthink when she doesn't speak to me for most of the day, and overthinking made the darkness grow.

Touch her.

Jennie and I are in bed now on the eighth night of living together. I'm facing her back, fixating on the small section of her lower back that had been exposed when she shifted and her shirt rode up.

Cautiously, I stretch my arm out, my fingers grazing over tiny hairs and goosebumps. Jennie doesn't move under my touch.

Maybe that's why she has a stick up her ass. Because we haven't touched her in so long. We need to help her.

I flatten my palm on her skin and dip my fingers into her pants. Her hips shift but she doesn't speak. I reach my other arm out and close my hands around her waist before pulling her backwards, toward me and closing the distance between us.

She fits nicely into me. Her back against my chest and my chin on her head. Finally, she turns around. I wasn't prepared for her to kiss me. We hadn't made out recently and her lips barely puckered whenever I leaned in, but now, her tongue is straight in my mouth when I've barely had the chance to part my lips.