platonic- having a close relationship in which there is no romance
that's what luke and rose were for years- best friends who would rather give up an organ before thinking about kissing one another.
until one day, the thought doesn't sound so terri...
"I was the one you always dreamed of You were the one I tried to draw How dare you say it's nothing to me? Baby, you're the only light I ever saw"
Song- "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer ________________
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Rose always hated when people told her the words, "Calm down."
That was never a helpful saying when you're at your wit's end, struggling to figure out how you can do something when you feel unavailable for it.
Those two words are meaningless to Rose, they don't do anything but make her feelings more sporadic than before. She can't believe that people actually say that thinking it will be the magic trick that pulls a situation together like fairy dust.
Someone could be actively pacing around with a heavy feeling in their heart, something big on the line that's tearing them apart, and they believe those two pointless words will actually have action behind them.
Like those are the words that will make all the troubles disappear.
No, it doesn't work that way.
Calmness isn't a command that you can just follow at someone's request, it's a state that you're put in when you feel at home, when you feel comfortable with what you're doing or what's going on.
Calmness comes with special places, things, or people.
And for Rose, her calm is Luke.
He's the serenity that feeds her soul when it's craving attention. He's the one that can talk her down when she's worried about anything. He's the one who understands her like no one else, he's always the peace she longs for.
He was the one who she went to for tranquility when her dad passed away, and he's never stopped being her dose of morphine ever since.
She gets her fix anytime he's around, more addicting than any drug could ever be. His laugh, his eyes, his smile, his touch— everything about him is the exact prescription Rose needs in a time where she's feeling defeated.
She breathes him in and out, the dopamine of her life.
But ironically, he was her storm all the same.
It was a good thing that Rose was fluid like the weather. She could bend her feelings to match with how the sky looked. As much as she loved her sunny warm days, she appreciated the cloudy ones where she could be tucked away in her cozy apartment as the storm played out like background noise all the same.
