In Heat - Jenlisa

Chapter 10 - Melting

That afternoon finds Lisa pacing around her room, wondering why she feels like she might crawl out of her skin. Yes, her nesting materials are in the wash—a chore that had her fighting tears, though she'd rather die than admit that to anyone—and she has a pile of missed classwork waiting on her desk, but that doesn't explain why she feels like this.

It has been hours since she last laid eyes on Jennie, true, but this level of separation anxiety isn't normal or sustainable. She has to learn how to survive on her own.

Maybe the furniture is wrong, Lisa considers, shoving her backpack under her desk to better examine the space. Now that she's looking at it, nothing is where it should be. She'll never be able to sleep with her dresser positioned so far from the corner, and why is her bedframe angled unevenly compared to the wall? She'll need to rearrange the whole thing.

It is while she's relocating all of her possessions (and then some) that she comes across a box that previously lived under her bed. Lisa takes a seat on the mattress, her entire body deflating like a sad balloon. Her heart pounds in her chest as she removes the box's lid with shaking hands, even knowing what she'll find inside.

A small collection of silicone items looks back at her. Taunting her. These are things she's collected over multiple cycles, items that had been hard-won and, in many cases, saved up for over months of working part-time. Some, like the discreet cuffs meant to stimulate the pressure points on her wrists when worn, were more of a necessity than a luxury. After all, Lisa's always been more of a girl for sensation over size. She couldn't care less about what goes in her; just that it fills her up and gets the job done.

Besides the various comfort items, there's the frankly immoral gargantuan pink dildo she'd received as a gag gift, a trio of more reasonably-sized turquoise dildos (all with varying shapes for the utmost satisfaction of their user), and her trusty purple vibrator. A rainbow of embarrassment, but one she wouldn't trade for anything. These are all the things she relies on—the things she needs.

Lisa stares at the box and wonders how the hell she got through heat without any toys.

"What is that?"

Lisa jumps, nearly falling off the bed as she scrambles to right herself and simultaneously shield the box from Jennie's sharp eyes. She ends up landing on the ground, the box spilling around her like the world's worst pinata.

The humongous pink dildo bounces across the floor, coming to a stop at her roommate's feet.

Jennie muffles a snort. Lisa buries her face in her hands, feeling very much like she'd enjoy slamming her head into the wall over and over until she can forget the humiliation of this moment.

Jennie clears her throat. "Lisa."

"I know," she groans, crawling across the floor to collect all of her toys. "I'm picking it up."

She's managed to reach as far as Jennie's shiny black shoes when she hears, "I brought something for you."

Lisa glances up, eyes following the line of Jennie's thigh highs to her black dress and impeccable hair, all the way to her strange expression. Jennie looks...unsettled? Displeased? Lisa can't parcel it out. She's never seen whatever Jennie expression this is.

Meanwhile, Jennie's eyes glint with something unidentifiable that arouses Lisa's suspicions. Something weird as shit is going on here, but whatever it is, it isn't what's bothering Jennie. Her shoulders actually relax the longer they remain in position, Lisa on the floor and Jennie standing over her.

"Something for me?" Lisa repeats, voice coming out a bit breathless. "From you?"

Jennie peers at her like she's said something particularly amusing.

"Yes. For you."

Lisa swallows, trying to keep her voice level as she asks,

"Can I have it, then?"

Jennie hums. "Say please."

Lisa tries to ignore the warmth in her cheeks as she clasps her hands together over her chest and says, "Please, Jennie. Can I have my gift?"

Jennie inhales sharply, but her tone is neutral as she replies,

"You may."

Jennie then produces a plain box from behind her back. Lisa, still happy in her place at Jennie's feet, accepts the box with raised eyebrows. It's made of thin cardboard, from the feel of it, like the sort of containers people use for takeout...or that the local cafe uses for pastries. Did Jennie go to town?

Sure enough, when Lisa raises the box to eye level and inhales, she's met with the scent of freshly baked batter and sugary icing. Vanilla, if she's not mistaken. It has saliva pooling in her mouth, her craving for cupcakes roaring back to the surface. This is just cruel, Lisa thinks, stomach rumbling with anticipation.

"Well?" Jennie interrupts her reverie. "Open it."

Lias doesn't need to be told twice. She nearly tears the box apart in her hurry to uncover its contents, but as soon as she catches a glimpse of what's inside, she freezes.

Anyone who knows her could guess Lisa has tried every single offering at the local cafe at least a dozen times. Unfortunately, while their cupcakes are good, they aren't anything special. They're a bit messy, actually, and heavy-handed on the execution, often crowned by melting icing that any professional knows not to apply until the cake has completely cooled. On top of all that, the flavor profile isn't her favorite.

But these cupcakes? All six of them, arranged in perfect rows with shimmering pink piping? Not a ribbon out of place? Immaculate. Pure poetry, a triumph for any culinary artist. They look like they belong on a professional baking show and are most assuredly beyond the capability of anyone who works at the cafe—or anybody else in town, for that matter.

Which can only mean....

"Did you make these yourself?" Lisa asks, feeling a bit like she's having an out-of-body experience.

"Yes," Jennie answers without hesitation.

Lisa blinks up at her.

"You made a half-dozen pink cupcakes? By hand?"

"Actually, I made seventy of them. The ideal frosting-to-cake ratio took some trial and error," Jennie considers, brow furrowing as she thinks back to some perceived slight the recipe made against her.

Lisa wants to demand why, to protest that Jennie's already her best friend in the world, she doesn't have to do all this—but, as always, her mouth doesn't cooperate.

" Jennie," she breathes. Her hands shake around the box.

Jennie refocuses on her at the sound of her voice, and her eyes are bright as she states,

"You're pleased."

All Lisa can do is nod.

Jennie's face becomes unbearably smug.

"Good. Eat, Lisa."

The word good and her name in the same sentence are too much for Lisa to take. She eats, luxuriating in the immense attention to detail Jennie paid to every aspect of her cupcakes. It is magical. So magical, in fact, that she feels like she's dancing on a cloud or something equally as stupid. Lisa just has to pray it doesn't show on her face.

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A/N: Lisa: Look at her! Such a good friend of mine!
Jennie: I crave death