Rosie slips herself into every piece of who I am. It’s like I’ve been redefined.
From avoiding long-term futures to wanting them, because I see her there. From avoiding the world to wanting to share it with her.
I’ve never imagined a reality without Dad breathing down my neck, telling me what to do or who to be. It was too masochistic of a fantasy. I don’t have to imagine now. Rosalie plants seeds of a life I never thought possible, and waters them with her words. They grow so tall and strong, I have to see them. They’re so beautiful, I can’t help but believe in them.
My lips find hers easily—like they’re tethered. It’s three, five, eight small kisses before I breath out, “I can’t believe I existed without you.”
Rosalie doesn’t reply with words, but with kisses of her own, and smiles that leave me hopeful for a different life. An existence where this vulnerability seeps into every day, and one where the sole person who decides my fate, is me. I don’t see that life emerging anytime soon, but Rosie makes it feel less like a wish and more like a promise.
“You’ll never have to exist without me again, okay?” It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I let everything but my adoration for her slip away, falling completely into her embrace. “We should relax for the night. No more thinking about bad dads or shitty office days.”
I chuckle. “What do you have in mind?”
She hums. It reverberates off my skin and into my heart. “Do you want to play a video game? We can play one of the two people player games-”
“Yes. Absolutely. I’ll boot up my PC right now.”
“Don’t you want to change first?”
“Fuck it.” I’m too excited by the thought of sitting Rosie on my lap and showing her my collection of games to choose from. She yelps when I stand, keeping her in my arms and wrapping her legs around me. “I hope you don’t expect to leave my room tonight.”
Her lips stretch into a smirk. “I’d stay in your room forever if I could.”
Something stirs in me. I push it away, because I don’t want Rosie to think I’m getting her in my bedroom for sex. Even if that’s something I’d be happy to do when she’s ready.
Willing away the feeling, I walk towards our hallway, holding her in my arms.
“Say the word, Rosalie. I’ll keep you forever if you let me.”
twenty-one
ROSIE
I thinkLocke hates our couch. Or, at least, he doesn’t like it as much as he did before crying in my arms.
I’ve felt closer to him after that night. More supportive of what he needs, and more understanding of who he is. Being someone he trusts with such vulnerable parts of his life means more to me than I think he’ll ever know.
It was always me showing myself to the guys I date. I’ve thought about our night every day since it happened, and the more I simmer in those feelings, the more I realize Locke is the first man to show me a deeper side of him. In the ways that we connect and show ourselves to each other, we’re equal. I’ll never take that for granted.
So, I don’t complain the first night Locke suggestsnotsitting on the couch together after class. I thought it was cute how timidly he asked me to do nothing with him.
In his bed, specifically.
It was nice. Laying together with no obligation of talking or performing. The comfort of each other’s presence is more thanenough. I laid in his arms, we both scrolled our phones with the occasional meme to show one another, and called it a night when the clock dipped past twelve.
I was happy with that the first night. The second and third, too.
I knew Friday night would be different. Past me thought I’d be too excited about watching spooky movies, just one week before Halloween, to be away from that couch. I even planned a speech to convince Locke to break our new bedtime routine and watch the films he says doesn’t scare him.
I’d propose we do one movie on the couch, and one in bed. If that didn’t work, I’d bribe him with apple oatmeal cookies and promise to play one of his online battle royale games.
If that was unsuccessful, the last resort was to offer kisses until he folded. I have a feeling that plan would’ve been bulletproof.
Turns out, all my plans were unneeded. My resolve disappeared as soon as Locke walked into the dorm. When he pushed his damp, butter blonde hair out of his eyes, and left raindrops slowly trickling off the silver metal of his watch, spending a night in bed didn’t sound so bad.
When Locke walked straight up to me, pulled me into a sweeping kiss, and whispered, “Lay with me tonight?” I stopped giving a fuck about those horror movies.
After he takes a quick shower, we find ourselves in a familiar position. My head comfortably laying on his chest, legs jumbled together while we distract ourselves online. Doing absolutely nothing.
