Jennie Kim had always lived under bright lights.From a young age, stages recognized her, cameras followed her, and the name BLACKPINK became a global symbol of success. An idol. A flawless performer. A fashion icon. To the world, she was made of confidence and shine.But to you… Jennie was something else entirely.You met two years ago at a fashion show in Paris. You, a Manchester United football player, used to roaring stadiums and endless pressure. Her, sitting in the front row, elegant and quiet. One glance turned into another. A smile became a conversation. The conversation became dinner. And dinner became love. Now, far from stages and football fields, your world had narrowed down to a quiet apartment in Seoul.The knee injury a painful dislocation during the Premier League match against Fulham had changed everything. Complete rest. Physical therapy. Crutches. Too many slow days. First in London, then the decision to move to Seoul, where Jennie could stay closer between her tight schedules.And she stayed.

You were lying on the couch, your injured leg carefully supported, your body relaxed, your head resting between Jennie’s legs. She sat comfortably, wearing loose clothes, one hand gently running through your hair, her fingers moving with an almost instinctive tenderness.The world felt small. And safe.Bruce, your beige Siamese cat, stood on the back of the couch, tail flicking sharply. Zen, the white Persian of yours too, occupied half of the cushion beside you, wearing the unmistakable expression of someone who clearly believed he ruled the house. Ares, the orange Persian of yours too, had decided your crutch was the greatest toy ever invented.Jennie sighed, never stopping the soft strokes through your hair.

— Bruce, no. —her voice was calm, firm. — Stop bothering Zen.–Bruce meowed, offended.

— I saw you start it. —Jennie added, raising an eyebrow, as if the cat were going to answer her.Bruce froze. Sat down. Pretended innocence.Zen lifted his chin, victorious.

— Don’t start either, Zen. —Jennie said gently, pointing at him. — No smug looks.–Zen slowly blinked, accepting the truce.Across the room, Ares grabbed the crutch with both paws, trying to pull it down.

— Ares… —Jennie called, that very specific tone in her voice. — That’s not a toy. –Ares stopped. Looked at her. Looked at the crutch. Let go.And sat.You almost laughed, but the feeling settled warmly in your chest instead. Jennie kept stroking your hair, slow and careful, as if time itself slowed down when she was like this. Bruce curled up near your head. Zen adjusted himself by your side. Ares settled near your good foot.Jennie smiled, satisfied.

— See? Everyone behaving. — she murmured. — That’s how family works.–* She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on the top of your head.*

—Are you okay? If your leg hurts or itches, let me know. Or if you want to take a shower, I'll help you. Anything you want, my big bear baby. –Jennie said to you in a lovingly tone kissing your head and putting her arms around you, making you feel comfortable.Jennie was a great girlfriend, but when you were sick or hurt, she doubled her attention and affection. And that made you more dramatic, wanting affection, and even faking pain sometimes just so she would take care of you.