Chapter 5: The Morning After
The morning light cut through the penthouse in long golden blades, catching dust motes that hung suspended in the air like tiny stars. Jennie stirred first, her cheek pressed against the warm curve of Isabella's shoulder, her hand splayed across the soft skin of her stomach. For a long moment, she didn't move—didn't breathe—just existed in the impossible reality of waking up wrapped around the woman she'd been aching for.
Isabella's chest rose and fell beneath her, steady and slow. Her arm was draped across Jennie's back, fingers loosely curled against her spine. In sleep, the sharp edges of her face softened, the freckles across her nose standing out like scattered cinnamon against pale skin. Jennie memorized every detail: the faint scar above her left eyebrow, the way her lips parted slightly, the tiny crease between her brows that suggested even her dreams carried some weight.
God, she's beautiful.
The thought came unbidden, as it always did, but this time it landed differently. This time, Jennie got to reach out and trace the line of Isabella's jaw without fear of overstepping. This time, she got to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth and watch those dark eyes flutter open.
Isabella blinked slowly, consciousness creeping in like dawn. Her gaze found Jennie's, and a lazy smile curved her lips.
"Hey, you."
"Hey." Jennie's voice came out wrecked, rough from sleep and emotion. "I was starting to think I dreamed you."
Isabella's arm tightened around her, pulling her closer. "Feel like a dream to you?"
"No." Jennie pressed her face into Isabella's neck, breathing her in. "You feel like the first real thing that's happened to me in years."
Isabella's fingers carded through Jennie's hair, gentle and soothing. They lay there in comfortable silence, the city humming beyond the glass, the sheets tangled around their bare legs like evidence of the night before.
"I should steal you away," Isabella murmured. "Just take you somewhere no one knows your face. An island somewhere. Somewhere with no phones and no cameras and no screaming fans."
"Tempting." Jennie laughed softly. "I have a world tour in three months. My manager would have a heart attack."
"Your manager sounds like a drag."
"She is." Jennie tilted her head up, meeting Isabella's eyes. "But she's also the reason I'm still standing. She's been with me since the beginning. She knows everything."
Isabella's brow furrowed slightly. "Everything?"
Jennie's smile turned rueful. "About the loneliness. About the pressure. About..." She hesitated, her fingers tracing a nervous pattern on Isabella's skin. "About the way I've felt about you. She's the one who told me to go to that concert. She knew I needed to see you."
Something softened in Isabella's expression. "Then I owe her a thank-you."
"She'd probably just tell you to take care of me."
Isabella leaned in, pressing her lips to Jennie's forehead. "I plan to."
They might have stayed there forever, wrapped in the warm cocoon of each other, but Jennie's phone started buzzing on the nightstand. Insistent. Demanding. The vibration rattled against the marble surface like an alarm bell.
Jennie groaned. "Ignore it."
Isabella reached for it anyway, glancing at the screen. "It's someone named Manager Lee. She's called four times."
The spell broke. Reality came flooding back in, cold and sharp. Jennie sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist, and ran a hand through her tangled hair. She looked at the phone in Isabella's hand like it was a viper.
"I have to answer it," she said, her voice laced with regret. "If she's calling this much, something's wrong."
Isabella handed her the phone without protest. "Do what you need to do."
Jennie took a breath, then swiped to answer. "Lee? What's going on?"
The voice on the other end was rapid-fire Korean, urgent and clipped. Jennie's expression shifted in real-time—from annoyance to concern to a tight, controlled neutrality that made Isabella's stomach clench. She watched as Jennie's shoulders squared, as her face became a mask of professional composure.
"Okay. Okay, I understand. No, I'm not upset. I'll be there. Just give me an hour."
She hung up and sat there, staring at the phone in her hands like it had betrayed her.
"What happened?" Isabella asked quietly.
Jennie let out a breath. "The music video shoot got moved up. They need me on set in two hours, and the director is demanding a last-minute reshoot because the lighting was apparently 'suboptimal' in the footage we already got." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Apparently my face isn't pretty enough in the current lighting."
"Professional hazard?"
"Something like that."
Jennie swung her legs over the side of the bed, her back to Isabella. The morning light traced the delicate lines of her spine, the curve of her hips. She looked vulnerable and strong at the same time, and Isabella's chest ached with the sight of her.
"I don't want to leave," Jennie said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. "I just found you. I don't want to go back to that world yet."
Isabella moved closer, pressing her chest against Jennie's back, wrapping her arms around her from behind. She kissed the curve of her shoulder.
"You're not losing me, Jennie. I'm going to be right here when you get back."
Jennie turned in her arms, her eyes searching Isabella's face. "Promise?"
"Promise."
The kiss that followed was slow and deep, a promise in itself. Isabella's hands cupped Jennie's face, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to gather at the corners of her eyes. When they finally parted, Jennie let out a shaky breath.
"I should get dressed."
"I'll help."
Isabella watched her dress, leaning against the headboard with a lazy smile as Jennie pulled on her jeans, her shirt, her armor. Each layer seemed to transform her, the soft, vulnerable woman of the morning giving way to the polished, untouchable star. But her eyes, when she looked at Isabella, still held that rawness, that tenderness.
"Walk me to the door?" Jennie asked, her voice small.
Isabella obliged, padding barefoot across the cool marble floor. At the door, Jennie paused, reaching up to cup Isabella's face in her hands one last time.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For existing. For putting up with my chaos. For..." Jennie struggled for words, her eyes glistening. "For making me feel like I don't have to do this alone."
Isabella kissed her again, a soft, lingering press of lips. "Go. Do your thing. I'm not going anywhere."
Jennie smiled, a real smile, and then she was gone, slipping through the door and into the hallway, leaving Isabella alone in the golden morning light with the memory of her touch still warm on her skin.
Isabella stood there for a long moment, her forehead pressed against the closed door, the smell of Jennie's perfume still lingering in the air. Then she walked to the window, looking out at the city sprawled below, and pulled out her phone.
Jan picked up on the second ring, his voice a frantic explosion of Russian-tinged English.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I HAVE BEEN CALLING FOR HOURS. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDNAPPED. I THOUGHT—"
"I'm fine, Jan," Isabella cut in, her voice calm. "I need you to calm down."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? You disappear from a BTS concert without a word, you don't answer your phone for TWELVE HOURS, and you tell me to calm down?"
Isabella laughed, the sound surprising her. "I'm at the L'Escape hotel. The penthouse. Come pick me up."
There was a pause on the other end. Then, more subdued: "The L'Escape? The fancy one?"
"Yes, Jan. The fancy one."
"Why? What were you doing there?"
Isabella's smile was slow, secretive. "I'll tell you when you get here."
Another pause, longer this time. "Isabella... you sound different."
"Do I?"
"Yeah. You sound... happy."
Isabella was quiet for a moment, watching a bird arc across the sky. "Maybe I am, Jan. Maybe I am."
"Okay, okay, I'm on my way. Don't go anywhere. Don't disappear again. I swear to God, if you make me go through that—"
"Go through what?" Isabella's voice was light, teasing. "Missing the concert?"
"GO THROUGH WORRYING ABOUT YOU. YOU ARE THE ONLY SISTER I HAVE."
Isabella's heart squeezed. "I love you too, Jan. Now come get me."
She hung up and turned back to the window. The city sprawled below her, vast and indifferent, but somewhere in it, Jennie was getting ready for a music video shoot, carrying the memory of their night together like a secret in her heart.
Isabella pressed a hand to her chest, where the ghost of Jennie's touch still lingered.
I'm going to love you for a long time, Jennie Kim.
The thought was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. And for the first time in her life, Isabella didn't want to run from it.