Silent Echoes

Lisa didn't move for a long time after Jisoo left.

She stood in the center of her apartment, staring at the door as if expecting it to open again, as if expecting Jisoo to come back and tell her what to do, how to make the ache in her chest go away.

But no one came.

And the silence pressed in again, heavier this time, suffocating.

With a sharp inhale, Lisa forced herself to move. She needed to do something-anything-to keep her mind from spiraling. Her hands trembled as she grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water. She tried to drink, but her throat was too tight.

She set the glass down harder than she intended, the sound echoing in the empty space.

Her mind wouldn't stop replaying the café.

Jennie's voice.
Jennie's eyes.
Jennie saying, I miss you.

Lisa squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the edge of the counter.

Why did she say that?

Why did she look at Lisa like she meant it?

Lisa let out a bitter laugh. It was stupid. All of it.

She should hate Jennie for what happened.

She wanted to.

But she couldn't.

Her hands curled into fists as she straightened. She walked toward the living room, mindlessly grabbing a jacket before stepping onto the balcony. The city stretched out beneath her, lights flickering against the darkness, but it felt distant-like she wasn't really here.

Like she was still trapped in the past.

Lisa ran a hand down her face, letting out a shaky breath.

She used to love the view from here.

Back when Jennie used to stand beside her, teasing her about how she always acted too cool for city lights but secretly loved them.

"You stare at them every night, Lisa."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do. You get that little smile, the one you think no one notices."

Lisa swallowed hard, gripping the railing.

Jennie used to know her.

Jennie used to see her in a way no one else did.

And maybe that was what hurt the most.

Because Lisa had spent years convincing herself that Jennie didn't care. That she had just been another name, another mistake in a long list of things Jennie had left behind.

But today...

Jennie had looked at her like she never wanted to let go.

Lisa exhaled sharply, stepping back inside before the cold air could get to her. She shrugged off her jacket and made her way to the bedroom.

She needed sleep.

Not that it would help.

Not when every time she closed her eyes, she saw her.

Still, she collapsed onto the bed, willing herself to ignore the ache in her chest. She curled up on her side, staring at the empty space beside her, where Jennie used to sleep.

Where Jennie used to trace lazy patterns on Lisa's arm in the mornings.
Where Jennie used to whisper half-asleep confessions Lisa never forgot.
Where Jennie used to love her.

Lisa shut her eyes tightly, pressing her forehead against the pillow.

She shouldn't be thinking about this.

She shouldn't be feeling this.

But the memories were relentless.

Lisa could still hear Jennie's laugh in this apartment.
She could still feel the warmth of her hand.
She could still remember the way Jennie used to look at her like she was everything.

And now... she was nothing.

Lisa let out a shaky breath, turning onto her back. Her chest felt heavy, too tight, like she couldn't breathe.

She reached for her phone without thinking.

Her fingers hovered over Jennie's contact.

It was still there.

She had never deleted it.

She should.

She should delete it.

But instead, she stared at it, her thumb hovering over the screen, heart hammering in her chest.

What would she even say?

Would Jennie even pick up?

Lisa let out a humorless laugh and tossed her phone onto the nightstand.

She was pathetic.

She knew that if she called, if she let herself hear Jennie's voice again, she'd lose whatever fragile control she had left.

And she couldn't afford that.

She couldn't afford to fall apart over someone who had already walked away once.

Lisa pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, willing the tears away.

She hadn't cried over Jennie in a long time.

She refused to start now.

But the ache wouldn't leave.

It sat heavy in her chest, growing stronger with every breath, every heartbeat.

Lisa let out a slow, unsteady exhale.

Maybe Jisoo was right.

Maybe she was still running.

But if she stopped-if she let herself believe, let herself hope-

What if it just broke her all over again?

Lisa turned onto her side, pulling the blanket over her, as if that would keep the memories out.

As if that would make her forget the way Jennie looked at her today.

The way she had always looked at her.

The way Lisa wished-God, she wished-she still could.

As she lay there in the dark, Lisa let herself cry.