it's always ourselves that we find in the sea || jensoo

Chapter 21

They were nestled into the bed of an old rusted truck hidden in the middle of the forest, a blanket wrapped around both of them and a flask of tea to share, the occasional drop of rain snaking down through the canopy as they talked in quiet voices. Jennie had found it on one of her many hikes through the woods, the rusted red of the cabin peeking out through the vines and ferns trying to claim it as their own, and she'd quickly uncovered the back end of it, her hands stained orange and the metal creaking as she'd climbed into the trunk of it. It seemed like a nice quiet place to bring Jisoo, somewhere that wasn't the beach or the cliffs, and Jennie had eagerly helped her over tree roots and uneven forest floor, moving branches out of the way for her and holding her hand while Jisoo hesitantly poked around with her stick. It wasn't a long walk, and soon enough Jennie was helping boost Jisoo up into the bed of the truck, both of them settling against the cabin while Jennie covered them with the blanket. They'd been there ever since. It wasn't too cold, and the tea helped warm them while Jennie told her stories.

Screwing the lid back on the empty flask, Jennie brushed a damp lock of hair out of her face. It had been drizzling all morning, the day a gloomy grey, but that hadn't dampened her spirits at all. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and after a family dinner the day before, including Jisoo, Lisa and Ruby, Jennie had spent all morning lounging around the house, working on her novel, before Minzy packed up some leftovers and told her to take them over to Jisoo's house. Chaeyoung had accompanied her and taken Lisa and Ruby back to Minzy's, leaving Jennie alone with Jisoo. She'd popped the food in the fridge, telling Jisoo her one was where after she remembered the confusion of containers for Jisoo, and then suggested a walk. It had been a good decision, she thought, with the damp smell of the forest a comforting smell, and the howling wind rustling the tree branches a quiet song that she hoped Jisoo enjoyed as much as the sound of the sea. If she listened closely enough, the booming sound of waves crashing against the bottom of the nearby cliffs was just audible.

"We should probably go soon," Jennie murmured, cupping Jisoo's head slightly and kissing her on the temple.

"Mm, in a minute," Jisoo quietly sighed, burying her face in Jennie's shoulder, her dark hair spilling around her shoulders.

Quietly laughing, Jennie ran her fingers through the dark locks, feeling warm inside as she gazed down at Jisoo. A small jolt ran through her as her pulse started racing, and Jennie knew that it was because she was trying to bolster her courage to broach a topic with Jisoo. It was something she hadn't been able to stop thinking about since Jisoo had said she loved Jennie. It had changed nothing, in terms of the dynamics of their relationship, and if anything, it made Jennie feel even closer to her, but she'd spent hours toying with the idea of saying it back to Jisoo. The only thing holding her back was her situation.

"Hey, can we talk about something?" Jennie asked, an involuntary shiver running through her at a cold gust of wind that swept through the trees.

Lifting her head off Jennie's shoulder, Jisoo turned in her direction, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Of course."

"I was just- I've been thinking. About us. I was thinking about what happens next."

"Next?"

"Yes," Jennie quietly said, "I just- I've got a whole life back in Seoul. And going back and forth every few weeks is fine , but ... I miss it there. But I like it here. I like it here with you , and this place is starting to feel like home again. But my job-"

"It's not enough," Jisoo said, one side of her mouth curling up into a smile.

Jennie closed her eyes, tipping her head back slightly as she sighed, a small ache in her chest. "No. I don't know. I think that it could be, but I'm not sure if I want it to be. Spending a whole week writing one article ... it's not the career I wanted for myself. I don't feel like a journalist. This isn't why I wanted to write. And my novel ..."