Chapter 74

The sun had barely risen when Lisa decided that today—today—was the perfect day for a fishing trip.

Jennie disagreed immediately.

“Absolutely not,” Jennie mumbled, half-buried under the blanket, her voice thick with sleep. “It’s six in the morning. Even the fish are still asleep.”

Lisa, already dressed in an oversized hoodie and a bucket hat she insisted was “fishing aesthetic,” grinned mischievously. “Fish don’t sleep like that, baby. Come on, it’ll be fun! Fresh air, peaceful vibes, just you and me.”

Jennie cracked one eye open, unimpressed. “You said that about camping. I almost fought a mosquito for survival.”

“That mosquito started it,” Lisa defended quickly. “And you won.”

“I cried.”

“You cried victoriously.”

Jennie groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “I’m not going.”

There was a pause. Then the mattress dipped as Lisa climbed onto the bed, hovering over her dramatically.

“Jendeukie,” Lisa whispered, poking her cheek repeatedly. “Please? I already packed snacks.”

“…What snacks?”

Lisa gasped, scandalized. “You doubt me?”

A beat.

“…Yes.”

Lisa huffed and rolled off the bed, rushing to grab her bag. She unzipped it with theatrical flair and started pulling things out like a magician.

“Chips. Chocolate. Strawberry milk. Your favorite cookies. And—” she paused for effect, “—gummy bears.”

Jennie slowly lowered the blanket, eyes softening despite herself. “…You packed all that?”

Lisa beamed. “I know your priorities.”

Jennie sat up, hair messy, face still sleepy, but clearly weakening. “…Fine. But if I suffer, you suffer.”

Lisa saluted. “Deal.”

—

An hour later, they were sitting by a quiet lake, the early morning sun reflecting off the water in soft gold ripples. The air was cool, the kind that made everything feel calm and slow.

Jennie sat on a foldable chair, wrapped in a blanket Lisa brought “just in case,” holding a fishing rod like it personally offended her.

“I don’t think I’m doing this right,” Jennie muttered.

Lisa, sitting beside her, leaned over to adjust her grip gently. “You’re doing great. Just… don’t look like you’re about to fight the fish.”

“I am about to fight the fish,” Jennie said flatly. “If it pulls me in, I’m taking it down with me.”

Lisa laughed, the sound bright and warm. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jennie glanced at her, lips twitching. “…You woke me up at dawn.”

“Worth it.”

There was a comfortable silence after that, broken only by the soft sounds of water and distant birds. Jennie slowly relaxed, her shoulders dropping as she leaned back in her chair.

“…Okay,” she admitted quietly. “This is kinda nice.”

Lisa turned to her with a smug grin. “I told you.”

“Don’t push it.”

Lisa chuckled and leaned back too, their shoulders brushing. For a while, they just sat there, enjoying the moment.

Then—

“AH—!”

Jennie suddenly jerked forward, gripping her fishing rod in panic. “IT MOVED—LISA IT MOVED—”

Lisa blinked. “That means you got a fish—!”

“I DON’T WANT IT—YOU TAKE IT—”

Jennie tried to hand her the rod like it was a bomb about to explode. Lisa burst into laughter, quickly grabbing it to help.

“Okay, okay! Relax! Just hold it steady—”

“I AM HOLDING IT—IT’S HOLDING ME—”

Lisa stood behind her, guiding her hands. “Reel it in, baby. Slowly—yeah, like that—”

Jennie’s face scrunched up in pure distress. “If it jumps at me, I’m screaming.”

“You’re already screaming.”

“LOUDER.”

Lisa couldn’t stop laughing, but she stayed close, her arms around Jennie as they worked together. After a bit of chaotic struggling—

A small fish emerged from the water.

Jennie froze.

“…It’s… tiny.”

Lisa blinked. Then snorted. “All that drama for that?”

Jennie stared at it, offended. “It fought me.”

“It barely exists.”

“It has attitude.”

Lisa laughed so hard she had to sit down again. Jennie huffed, crossing her arms.

“I risked my life.”

“You caught your first fish,” Lisa corrected, still grinning. “That’s kinda cool.”

Jennie glanced at her, then at the fish again.

“…Okay, maybe a little cool.”

Lisa nudged her. “See? Worth waking up early.”

Jennie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her small smile.

“…Only because you’re here.”

Lisa softened at that, her expression turning gentle. “Always.”

—

A little later, Jennie had completely abandoned fishing and was focused on snacks instead, sitting cross-legged on the blanket while Lisa tried—actually tried—to catch another fish.

Jennie popped a gummy bear into her mouth, watching Lisa struggle.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Lisa turned, offended. “You literally screamed at a baby fish.”

“And I caught one,” Jennie shot back.

Lisa narrowed her eyes. “…You got lucky.”

Jennie smirked. “Skill.”

Lisa huffed and turned back dramatically. “Fine. Watch a professional.”

Jennie leaned back, amused, munching on snacks as she watched Lisa focus intensely.

A few seconds passed.

Then—

“WAIT—WAIT—I THINK I GOT ONE—”

Jennie immediately sat up. “Don’t scream.”

“I’m not screaming—AH—IT’S BIG—”

“You’re screaming.”

“I’M NOT—”

The rod bent slightly as Lisa struggled, determination written all over her face.

Jennie crawled closer, eyes wide. “Wait… that one actually looks big.”

Lisa grinned. “See? Professional.”

“…If you drop it, I’m laughing.”

“I’m not going to drop—”

The fish slipped off the hook and splashed back into the water.

There was a pause.

Jennie stared.

Lisa stared.

Then—

Jennie burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“I TOLD YOU—”

Lisa groaned, dramatically falling back onto the grass. “It was sabotage.”

“You got outplayed by a fish.”

“It cheated.”

Jennie laughed so hard she nearly fell over, clutching her stomach. Lisa peeked at her, unable to stop smiling despite her “defeat.”

“…At least you’re having fun.”

Jennie calmed down slightly, still giggling. “…Okay, yeah. I am.”

Lisa sat up, scooting closer. “See? Best idea ever.”

Jennie leaned into her side, resting her head on Lisa’s shoulder. “Don’t get used to being right.”

Lisa wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Too late.”

—

As the sun climbed higher, the quiet lake turned warmer, brighter. They didn’t catch many fish—just Jennie’s “victorious tiny warrior” and Lisa’s “escaped criminal”—but neither of them cared.

They spent more time laughing, teasing, and sharing snacks than actually fishing.

And somehow, that made it perfect.

Jennie closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun and Lisa beside her.

“…We can do this again,” she mumbled.

Lisa blinked, surprised. “Really?”

Jennie sighed. “…But next time, we start at a reasonable hour.”

Lisa grinned. “Deal.”

A pause.

“…What’s a reasonable hour?”

Jennie opened one eye. “If you say six again, I’m breaking up with you.”

Lisa laughed, pulling her closer. “Noted.”

Jennie huffed but didn’t move away, her fingers absentmindedly intertwining with Lisa’s.

And just like that, the chaotic fishing trip turned into one of their favorite quiet memories—full of laughter, tiny fish, and a whole lot of love.