Chapter 12

Jennie swore she only bought the LEGO Taj Mahal set “for stress relief.”

That was three weeks ago.

Now, her entire living room belonged to tiny beige bricks, instruction manuals spread like sacred scrolls, and one very intense Jennie Kim sitting cross-legged on the floor, squinting like she was performing surgery instead of snapping plastic pieces together.

“Lisa,” she warned without even looking up, “don’t step on anything.”

Behind her, Lalisa Manoban froze mid-step, a bag of snacks dangling from her hand.

“I just got here,” Lisa said, trying not to laugh. “You didn’t even greet me.”

“You’re being greeted,” Jennie replied, voice serious. “By the Taj Mahal.”

Lisa blinked.

“…That’s a pile of bricks.”

Jennie gasped like she’d just been personally attacked. “It’s not just a pile of bricks. It’s a masterpiece. It’s architecture. It’s history.”

“It’s tiny plastic squares.”

“It’s art, Lalisa.”

Lisa bit her lip, already smiling as she kicked off her shoes and carefully tiptoed inside. She’d seen Jennie obsessed with things before—fashion, perfumes, random late-night baking phases—but this? This was new.

And honestly?

It was adorable.

Jennie had her hair tied up messily, a few strands falling over her face, her cheeks slightly puffed as she focused. She was holding a tiny piece like it determined the fate of the universe.

Lisa crouched beside her. “How long have you been building this?”

Jennie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she clicked two pieces together with a satisfying snap, then leaned back slightly.

“…Since yesterday morning.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“I took a nap.”

“When?”

Jennie paused.

“…At some point.”

Lisa laughed softly and reached out, gently brushing Jennie’s hair away from her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jennie huffed, but leaned into the touch anyway. “Don’t distract me. I’m on step 312.”

“That’s very specific.”

“It’s very important.”

Lisa nodded solemnly. “Of course. National importance.”

Jennie narrowed her eyes at her. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I would never,” Lisa said, grinning.

Jennie tried to stay annoyed, but it melted almost instantly. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Lisa’s grin softened. “I know.”

For a while, Lisa just watched.

Jennie worked with intense concentration, occasionally mumbling to herself, flipping through the instruction booklet, and carefully aligning pieces like her life depended on symmetry. Every now and then, she’d tilt her head, examining her progress with a proud little smile.

Lisa’s heart did that annoying soft thing again.

God, she was whipped.

“Okay,” Jennie suddenly said, sitting up straighter. “This is the central dome part. It’s the hardest section.”

Lisa leaned closer. “Can I help?”

Jennie immediately shook her head. “No.”

“Hey!”

“You’ll mess it up.”

“I will not!”

Jennie gave her a look. “You once broke my nail polish bottle just by holding it.”

“That was an accident!”

“Exactly.”

Lisa pouted. “You don’t trust me.”

“I trust you,” Jennie said, gently placing another piece. “Just… not with this.”

Lisa sighed dramatically and flopped onto the couch behind her. “Fine. I’ll just sit here and be neglected.”

“You’re not neglected.”

“You haven’t kissed me in ten minutes.”

Jennie paused.

“…That long?”

“Yes.”

Jennie turned around slightly, eyes softening. “Come here then.”

Lisa didn’t need to be told twice. She leaned forward, cupping Jennie’s cheek and pressing a quick, warm kiss to her lips.

Jennie smiled against her. “Better?”

“Much.”

Jennie turned back to her masterpiece, cheeks a little pink now.

Lisa stayed close this time, resting her chin on Jennie’s shoulder, watching her continue building.

“Wow,” Lisa whispered after a while. “It actually looks like something now.”

Jennie beamed. “See? I told you.”

“You’re kind of amazing.”

“I know.”

Lisa laughed quietly and wrapped her arms loosely around Jennie’s waist from behind, careful not to disturb anything.

For a moment, everything felt calm. Peaceful.

Soft.

And then—

“Lisa, don’t—”

Too late.

Lisa shifted slightly, her knee bumping the edge of the low table.

The table wobbled.

Time slowed.

Jennie’s eyes widened in horror as the nearly-finished central dome trembled—

—and then collapsed.

A soft but devastating clatter filled the room as pieces scattered across the floor.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Lisa froze.

Jennie didn’t move.

“…Nini?” Lisa whispered.

Jennie slowly looked down at the ruins of her beloved Taj Mahal.

Her Taj Mahal.

Gone.

Destroyed.

Three weeks of obsession… reduced to a pile of betrayal.

Lisa swallowed. “I can explain.”

Jennie stood up.

Lisa stood up too, hands raised slightly like she was facing a very small, very cute, but very dangerous opponent.

“Jennie,” she said carefully, “it was an accident.”

Jennie turned to her slowly.

Lisa braced herself.

Jennie’s lips trembled.

“Oh no,” Lisa said softly. “Don’t cry—”

“I’m not crying!” Jennie snapped, even as her eyes got suspiciously shiny. “I just—”

She looked back at the broken pieces.

“…I was almost done.”

Lisa’s heart cracked instantly.

“Oh, baby,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m so sorry.”

Jennie sniffed. “You killed it.”

“I didn’t kill it!”

“You destroyed a historical monument.”

“It’s LEGO!”

“It still counts!”

Lisa bit back a smile—wrong timing, absolutely wrong timing—and gently reached for Jennie’s hands.

“I’ll help you rebuild it,” she said softly.

Jennie huffed. “You’ll just ruin it again.”

“I won’t,” Lisa promised. “I’ll be careful. I’ll follow instructions. I’ll even… sort pieces.”

Jennie blinked.

“…You’d sort pieces?”

Lisa nodded solemnly. “For you? Anything.”

Jennie stared at her for a moment, clearly trying to stay upset.

But Lisa could see it—the crack in her resolve.

“You owe me,” Jennie muttered.

“I owe you everything.”

“…And snacks.”

“Done.”

“…And kisses.”

Lisa smiled, stepping closer. “That too.”

Jennie sighed dramatically, but let Lisa pull her into a hug.

For a few seconds, she stayed still—then slowly melted into it, arms wrapping around Lisa’s waist.

“It was almost perfect,” she mumbled into Lisa’s shoulder.

“We’ll make it perfect again,” Lisa whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Jennie pulled back slightly, looking up at her. “You’re helping.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re not allowed to touch anything without my permission.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And if you mess up—”

“I’ll buy you another set.”

Jennie paused.

“…Actually, that sounds nice.”

Lisa laughed. “Greedy.”

Jennie smiled a little. “Maybe.”

They both looked down at the scattered pieces.

Jennie took a deep breath.

“…Okay. We start again.”

Lisa crouched beside her, carefully picking up a piece like it was made of glass.

“Step one?” she asked.

Jennie nodded, already reaching for the instruction booklet again.

“Step one.”

And this time—

Lisa stayed very, very still, For her Nini.