the 1 | chaennie

29. Style

The silence in the car was stifling, with Jennie's shuddering breaths as she tried to get herself under control, and the charge in the air was almost palpable. Driving through the night, Rosie felt her heart fluttering anxiously in her throat as she kept going. Neither of them had to ask where they were going; they left the city far behind in a haze of yellow light in exchange for the dusty stretch of scrubland and the speckled starry night blanketing the heavens like rich velvet.

Winding the windows down to let the mild night air into the stuffy car, they breathed in the dry smell of the desert and as soon as they were far enough away from any sign of life, Rosie put the car into park and switched the engine off. They both stared out at the stretch of flat land lit up in front of them before Rosie turned the headlights off too and got out of the car without a word.

Slamming the door shut behind her, she buried her hands in her pockets and stalked away from the car, shoulders taut as she listened to the car door open. She didn't go far, just a few steps, standing with her back to Jennie, running her hands through her hair in a familiar anxious habit. Her skin prickled with the keen awareness of Jennie standing nearby, and Rosie swallowed thickly as she stared out at the monochrome night, feeling so many warring emotions that she didn't know whether to be ecstatic, furious or sad.

With a heavy sigh, she turned, crunching sand underfoot, and peered through the silvery moonlight to fix Jennie with a bewildered look. Her expression was severe, eyes dark and brooding, and Rosie looked at the figure leaning against the hood of the car with just plain confusion.

"What're we doing here?" Rosie quietly asked.

"I just- I miss you."

With a quiet snort of laughter, Rosie hung her head as she scuffed the toe of her shoe through the sand. "You've said that before."

"I wanted to apologise."

"You've said that again too."

Jennie took a lunging step forward, and Rosie looked with mild surprise as she watched her cross the distance separating them, a yearning look on her face that made Rosie's insides twist, and not in an unpleasant way.

"Rosie, I-"

Cutting off, Jennie let out a shaky breath, before she covered her face with both hands, tipping her head back as her short hair spilt around her. Raking a hand through her hair, she fisted a handful and swallowed thickly, giving Rosie a mournful look, her eyes silver in the night and swimming with regret.

"I'm sorry. I made a mistake that night and I've regretted it every moment since. I wanted to call you - I tried - I just- I thought I was making the right decision for myself ... but I wasn't. And you were right; what's the point if I can't have you?"

"God, Jennie! Don't do this," Rosie said in a low voice, unable to stop the tremble, her hands balling into fists. "Please. Don't get my hopes up again."

Taking another step forward, Jennie's fingertips just managed to graze Rosie's cheek before Rosie quickly stepped back out of arm's reach, watching as Jennie's arm fell limply back to her side. She looked small standing in front of her, worn down and burdened with her troubles, and Rosie couldn't help but pity her.

"I still love you. You know I do."

"I know," Rosie murmured, "I never doubted that."

"Rosie, please-"

"You said you weren't happy," Rosie accusingly told her, her tone sharper than she intended as she gave her a hard look, brow furrowing heavily over her eyes. "That's what you said. That you didn't like it and I made you feel trapped."