THESE CELESTIAL BODIES (Demetre)

Chapter thirteen

"Interesting."

She spotted a group of girls just a few meters away who were goggling over Dean. They dropped their voices to harsh whispers, grinning so wide when they looked at him, Rose thought their faces might stretch too wide and break. But then their eyes would flutter over to her, and they would pull faces, talk even quieter behind their hands. She had seen enough gossip and talk, especially about her, to know that they were probably gobsmacked that she was here with him. A man who looked like a God had carved him.
     It sent a stab of pain through her chest. "You can let go now."
     "Why?" he asked.
     The girls started giggling and Rose's eyes started glassing over. "Because I said so."
She had no idea why he smirked, why the gleam in his blue eyes looked a little brighter. He brushed a lock of her hair from her neck, the brush of his fingers over her bare skin made her jolt. Multiple scars sat there from where Vampyrs used to feed off her back in the caves. After brushing away the lock, he leaned into her neck and kissed her skin.

Against her will, she gasped at warmth of his lips. Pulling away, he said. "Do they look like they've just been slapped across the face?"
Rose glanced in the direction of the girls, and they indeed looked like they had been slapped across the face. She nodded.

"Good. You're a member of my court, little Rose. No member of my court gets belittled."
"You're insufferable," the tingle between her legs flared.

He licked his lips. "So I've been told."

Dean was still holding her hand when they left the museum. Nightfall came with a whisper of perfect black that grew into a comforting chorus of stars. The skyline looked like fireflies, spires rising high, lights flickering along the horizon. She loved the sky, Cato would take her star gazing almost every day. Cato. A bitter emotion arose with that name, but she shoved out those rancid, fake memories.
     Instead, she searched for their next destination and found it soon enough. A theatre just across the road, showing Romeo and Juliette.
     "Romeo and Juliet is one of my favourite plays," Rose explained as she dragged Dean across the street and through the swinging doors of the theatre. The man on the till looked like he'd rather piss in a can than stand at the booth. 
     Rose grinned with excitement. "Two tickets to Romeo and Juliet please."
     The man looked between them. His eyes drawn and uninterested, he sucked on his teeth before scratching a boil on his neck. He spoke in English with a slight hint of a Czech accent.
     "Last showing was an hour ago. Sorry."
"Shit really?"
"Find somewhere else."
Sulking, Rose turned and gestured for Dean to follow but he approached the man at the till with a set face. "Romeo and Juliet Is her favourite play."

"I don't give a shit," the man spat.

The look Dean gave him, the work in his jaw and steel in his gaze. Rose had half the might to remind Dean that he was not food. She thought he was going to eat him, maybe even slam his head onto the counter and break his neck.
     "You are going to give us a private screening of Romeo and Juliet," Dean said calmy. A twang of magic cracked through the air and the man sagged. He turned, punched a few numbers in before turning back to Dean with two tickets.

"Screen five," he said blankly.

Dean gave him a prim nod.

"I can't believe you compelled him!" Rose hissed. Dean took her by the arm and started walking her down to screen five.

"It worked didn't it?"

"Dean."

"I didn't kill him, I wanted to, but I didn't."

She smacked him across the head and stormed off to the screen room.

It was strange watching something she had first seen as a play as a movie. It was even stranger that they were the only two people in the screening room. There were times Dean couldn't understand the emotional side of the story but once Rose explained it, he was hooked. Swallowed by the monologues and declarations of love. And in that final scene, when Romeo dies and Juliet follows suit, he turned to her and said, I assumed the tragedy of human love was not being loved back, but now I see that tragedy of human love is not having enough time with the right person.
     Rose only smiled at him, feeling the same jolt of warmth run through her belly.
     When the movie ended, and the end credits began rolling, Dean got up only to stop short after Rose tugged at his jacket. "I want to stay and listen to the music."
He sat back down and looked at her.
     Rose's eyes were glued to the screen. "This was my parents' wedding song," she smiled at the memory. "They had their first dance to this."
     She used to watch their wedding video every couple months. When she learnt how to put in the tape herself, it became a nightly routine. After a few minutes of listening, Dean took her hand and urged her to rise and escorted her to the front of the screen, into the floor space. The end credits continued to roll but this time, an overlay of a montage of Romeo and Juliet began to play over the credits. Dean unhooked his coat and unhooked hers before pulling her into his embrace and settling his hand on her waist.
     Catching on, Rose, balked. "I can't dance."
He smiled. "Just follow me."

Demetre took Rose to him.
     And what did they do?
They danced.
     She stared up at him as he began moving—he was so consuming that she didn't even have the strength to smile or remember her lack of dancing capabilities. They waltzed along the floor, mesmerised by one another. Caught somewhere between the feel of one another's bodies and the sheer rawness of each other. Rose didn't notice how the light from the projector at the back lit up her cheeks and paled her face into an iridescent sheen of pure beauty. She didn't notice her skin begin to glow with light, that her hair lifted as if in water. He couldn't look away from her. Each step was flawless and lethal so coordinated that it seemed as though they were gliding through open air. It was like a note to a song that was not finished yet, an answer to a prayer. His scent—flowers, ash and an unbending will—enveloped her completely. She could never get sick of it. Her heart leaped and danced and thrummed along her insides. She felt his shadows before she saw them, and even as both of them became swallowed by his shadows and her light, in a blaze of wildfire and starlight, she held his eyes.

She realised then, that he was perhaps the kindest thing to have happened to her.

"I told you, that first week that you came, that I was willing to learn how to care for you."
     Rose nodded in recollection.
     "The only way I can care for you is if you stop living in the past, start living in the present and start hoping for the future."
     The words slammed into Rose so hard she tripped over her feet and into Dean's chest. Her breathing quickened, her limbs started shaking. She'd been living in the past for years, had survived on broken memories and ghostly voices. She'd wake up and imagine her mother singing while she got ready for school, she'd walk around and pretend her father was walking right beside her. She was living a lie, living in a fantasy in order to cope with reality. Pretending and imagining and wishing. Wishing for people who were not there. Not anymore.
     "Let them go," Dean stroked her head.
     Tears streamed down Rose's cheeks. "They're all I have," she choked. Her heart breaking, her hands straining. She'd held on for so long. Too long. It prevented her from living, it stopped her from feeling. Her grief stole her joy.
     "I promised to give you a home. It's up to you whether you allow yourself to find a family."
     "What are you offering?"
"I'm offering you a chance to live again."
She pulled away just enough to see his eyes. His eyes that swirled with so many hues of blue.
     Let them go, his voice caressed her insides.
So Rose did.

~*~

IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

Dean saying "I see you" and then encouraging rose to live again made me tear up