Hubby & Wifey -Oneshots Collections-

A Royal Affair -5- End

'Do you usually have people to do this for you, these days?' smiles Rosé.

'No,' pouts Jennie as she watches the taps spill hot water into the deep bath. It sits depressed into the floor, where she can step in with ease, but she waits to sit up on the countertop where Rosé left her, wrapped up in her silk robe. It is two hours at least since she returned to the apartment – before long the sun will be coming up on another day gone with her love. 'Maybe.' It's true. Sometimes people do come to run these baths for her. But not always.

Rosé, naked apart from a sheer black chemise that shows every inch of her skin, leans forwards and plays with the bowl of brightly colored bath bombs. 'These are cute.'

'They smell nice!'

'I can just imagine you in all of this,' says Rosé, tracing her fingers over the surface of the water to check the heat. 'I do imagine you.'

'Oh, you do?' Jennie smirks.

'I do.'

Hopping down from the counter, Jennie wobbles over. She wobbles because her legs still feel like jelly after the marathon session and she seems to have forgotten how to use her limbs. She wraps her arms around Rosé's waist from behind and kisses her neck. Some of her hair has tangled down and curled with heat, just how Jennie likes it best. She holds Rosé's hips and lifts the hem of her chemise just a little, grinning into her neck. She thinks that she could go one more time.

'You'll be too tired to move tomorrow if you carry on like this,' says Rosé in a stern voice.

'I don't plan on moving tomorrow! I have you to myself. I'm not going to let you out of bed.'

'Can I bring my phone to bed?' Rosé is always on call. That's something that Jennie has had to learn to live with.

She sighs. 'Fine.'

'Come on, get in the water.' Rosé nudges her at the small of her back and lifts the gown back from her body as Jennie steps down into the hot water.

Instantly, her tired muscles relax and a confused shiver runs down her spine despite the heat. Her feet still ache from the dinner and her hands are shaky from the exertion of the last couple of hours; when she sinks into the water and rests her head back against the edge of the bath it's almost as good as the sex. Almost. A lazy smile finds its way onto her face as Rosé pulls the chemise over her head and climbs in after her, tangling their legs together.

Face to face, their eyes meet and the full gravity of the day falls onto Jennie's shoulders. Rosé is here. Rosé is here.

'I can't believe you're real,' she says like that can express any of the pent-up emotion in her heart. 'I mean that you're really here. In my bathtub.'

'Could an illusion have done what I just did to you?'

'Sometimes in my dreams,' she huffs and flicks hot water up at Rosé's face. Their makeup has smudged; there is glitter on Jennie's cheek but Rosé has not yet reached up to brush it away. Residual hairspray has made Jennie's hair twist in unusual angles, and she leans her body down to let the water soak the ends.

Rosé raises a wet hand and brushes the long bangs from Jennie's temples. 'I meant what I said earlier. You look especially beautiful tonight.'

'It's because you haven't seen me for months. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'

'Absence has aged me by ten years,' says Rosé, as though there is a single line on her face.

Water slops over the side of the bath as Jennie turns around and shuffles back to lean against Rosé's chest instead. She rests her head back on her shoulder and closes her eyes. Sparkles fizz on her skin like champagne bubbles when Rosé drops her hand between her legs, but only to trace circles on her inner thigh beneath the water. The sensation is comforting more than anything else, a reminder of the intimacy that only they share.

'Do you really have to leave on Friday?' Jennie whispers.

'Yes,' sighs Rosé, 'I do. I have a meeting in New York on Saturday morning.'

'When will I see you again?'

'Well, if you do go to the Hamptons in the summer then I'll write it into my schedule,' she smiles. It is far easier for them to meet overseas, where there are fewer prying eyes and people pay less attention to their behavior.

'Now I'll definitely go.'

Rosé runs her fingers through Jennie's damp hair and starts to work it into a loose braid, fingers fluttering in a blur as she weaves it down her chest until it rests almost at her waist. Every few seconds, she kisses her neck again. Opposite the bath, there is a grandiose piece of artwork, outrageous to hang in a bathroom, and Jennie notices that she is looking at it. The female nude is beautiful, a reclining Venus, brought together under the brushstrokes of an artist who must have fixated on sheer admiration of that form.

'When did you acquire this?'

'I had my friend bid for it,' says Jennie, at an auction in Europe. It's quite wonderful, don't you think?'

'Stunning. But there is better art here.'

'Where?' Jennie turns in her lap and glares.

'Right in front of me,' laughs Rosé.

Jennie exhales and makes sure that she sends a severe frown in her girlfriend's direction. 'You ought not to spoil me with words as that or I'll never let you go. I'm a princess, you know. I could have you locked away in the tower with me forever and ever.'

Rosé cups her neck and draws her in for a lazy kiss. The steam between them offers a wetness that slips and slides, it's measured but messy and Jennie feels so hot that she could forget all about the winter outside. 'I wouldn't complain,' says Rosé, 'if you wanted to keep me that way. I love you.' She repeats it once, twice, and three times in English then French, and then in Korean. 'A tower might be just the excuse I've needed to get away from it all.'

'Do you ever imagine what it would be like?' whispers Jennie, and it takes no explanation for the meaning to be clear.

Rosé bites her lip, already swollen pink from Jennie's kisses. 'Every day. Every single day.'

Jennie curls in against her and closes her eyes, falling into those same daydreams. She imagines this suite shared between the two of them; she imagines a dog or even a child, some shared thread in this world that could never be severed; she imagines a future together and the papers talking about their wedding and everyone applauding her for what a good choice she made. Then her eyes flicker back open and she lifts her hands from the bath to wipe away the water droplets on her face. They could be tears or they could be the steam but she will not admit to herself which.

'But we do have until Friday.'

'Yes,' says Rosé, 'we do have that.'

It's always this way in these moments, and Jennie has learned to live with that. The moments that they do have. Her heart constricts in her chest and she reminds herself to live in this minute and hour and day of paradise instead of thinking about the unchartered waters ahead. 'I was thinking of asking my chef to bring cake,' she mumbles.

'Really?' Rosé grins.

'Cake and coffee. I love when you taste of coffee in the mornings.'

'When you've got me locked in your tower, will you bring me coffee every day?'

'Three times a day like clockwork,' Jennie presses a kiss to her lips and then to her nose. 'I'll even make it for you myself.'

Rosé laughs. The sound rings like wind-chimes. 'Well, that is an offer that I cannot refuse.'

The End