Chapter 55

The office had never felt this… wrong.

Lalisa Manobal sat at her desk, staring blankly at her laptop screen like it had personally offended her. The spreadsheet in front of her was simple—numbers, formulas, deadlines—but somehow, none of it made sense today.

Because something was missing.

No—someone.

Lisa let out a dramatic sigh, dropping her head onto the desk with a soft thud.

“Are you dying?” her coworker asked from the next cubicle, peeking over with mild concern.

Lisa didn’t even lift her head. “Worse.”

“…You got fired?”

“I haven’t had my morning kiss.”

There was a pause.

“…I regret asking.”

Lisa groaned louder, turning her face sideways so her cheek squished against the desk. “You don’t understand. I need it. It’s part of my daily functioning system.”

“Your… system?”

“Yes. Wake up. Coffee. Kiss. Then I become a productive member of society.” She lifted her head just enough to glare. “Today, I only got two out of three.”

“And that’s enough to break you?”

“It’s catastrophic.”

—

Across the city, Jennie Kim sneezed.

She blinked, then frowned slightly as she looked at her phone. A dozen unread messages.

From Lisa.

Jennie opened them.

“Babe.”
“Babe I can’t focus.”
“I think my brain stopped working.”
“Emergency.”
“Send kisses immediately.”
“I am deteriorating.”

Jennie snorted softly, shaking her head. “So dramatic.”

But her lips curved into a fond smile anyway.

She quickly typed back:

“You’re at work, Lili.”

Three seconds later—

“Exactly. That’s the problem.”

Jennie laughed under her breath.

She knew this would happen.

This morning had been chaotic—she overslept, Lisa had rushed to get ready, and in the whirlwind of grabbing her bag, fixing her hair, and nearly tripping over Kuma, they’d skipped one very important step.

Jennie leaned back against the couch, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Then her eyes sparkled.

“Oh… she’s really not going to survive, is she?”

—

Back at the office, Lisa was now staring at her reflection in her phone like she was questioning her entire existence.

“Who am I… without Jennie’s kisses?” she muttered.

“Still annoying,” her coworker replied instantly.

Lisa ignored them.

Her phone buzzed.

She gasped dramatically and grabbed it like it was life support.

Jennie:

“Look outside.”

Lisa blinked. “Outside?”

She stood up so fast her chair rolled back with a screech.

“Where are you going?” someone asked.

“Salvation,” Lisa whispered, already speed-walking toward the exit.

—

The moment she stepped outside the building, her eyes scanned the street frantically.

And then—

There.

Leaning casually against a sleek black car, sunglasses perched on her nose, was Jennie.

Lisa froze.

“…Oh my god.”

Jennie lowered her sunglasses slightly, meeting her eyes with a small, teasing smirk. “You look like you’ve been through something.”

Lisa ran.

Actually ran.

Right across the pavement, nearly tripping over her own feet, before crashing straight into Jennie’s arms like she’d been gone for years instead of hours.

“You came,” Lisa mumbled into her shoulder, voice muffled.

Jennie huffed a soft laugh, steadying her. “You were about to file a missing person report over a kiss, weren’t you?”

“I would have.”

“Of course you would.”

Lisa pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes soft and just a little bit pitiful. “I can’t work without it, Jen. I tried. I opened Excel and everything just… blurred.”

“That sounds very serious,” Jennie said, tone mock-concerned.

“It is.”

Jennie hummed, pretending to think, even though she was already leaning closer.

“Hmm… I guess there’s only one solution.”

Lisa nodded eagerly. “Yes. Immediate treatment.”

Jennie smiled.

Then she gently cupped Lisa’s cheek and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

It was warm, familiar, and perfectly Jennie.

Lisa melted instantly.

Actually melted.

Her shoulders relaxed, her grip softened, and when Jennie pulled away, Lisa just stood there for a second, blinking like her brain had rebooted.

“…Oh,” she breathed.

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’m back.”

Jennie laughed. “Just like that?”

Lisa nodded seriously. “Everything makes sense again. Numbers. Life. Purpose.”

“Wow. I should charge for this.”

“You should do it for free as a public service,” Lisa countered, immediately wrapping her arms around Jennie again. “Maybe twice a day. For safety.”

Jennie rolled her eyes but didn’t push her away. “Greedy.”

“Desperate.”

Jennie tapped her chin, pretending to negotiate. “One in the morning, one emergency kiss per day.”

Lisa gasped. “Only one emergency?”

“Use it wisely.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes. “What if I have multiple emergencies?”

Jennie smirked. “Then you better learn self-control.”

Lisa pouted.

Jennie sighed dramatically, then leaned in again—this time pressing a quicker, teasing kiss to Lisa’s lips.

“Fine. Bonus one. But that’s it.”

Lisa blinked again, even more dazed than before.

“…I love you.”

Jennie smiled softly. “I know.”

Lisa grinned, practically glowing now. “Okay. I can go back to work.”

“Good. Go be productive.”

Lisa turned to leave—

Then immediately turned back, grabbing Jennie’s hand.

“One more for the road?”

Jennie stared at her.

“…You’re unbelievable.”

“But I’m functional.”

Jennie tried to hold her expression for two seconds.

Then she broke, laughing, and gave her one last quick peck.

“Go. Before I regret this.”

Lisa beamed like she’d just won the lottery. “Best girlfriend ever.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

—

Back at her desk, Lisa sat down, opened her laptop, and immediately started typing like a machine.

Her coworker blinked. “What the—what happened to you?”

Lisa didn’t even look up.

“System restored.”

“…You’re insane.”

Lisa smiled to herself, fingers flying across the keyboard.

Totally fine.

Totally productive.

Totally powered by Jennie’s kisses.