Never Knew I Needed (Chaelisa)

Chapter 36

"So you two," the smaller woman starts up again, standing by the doorway with her hand on the door knob. "Are going to finally talk about what's going on, whether you like it or not," she finishes by cocking her head to the smile, smirking and pulling the door shut.

I don't know what she means, but when I hear the sound of a lock clicking only seconds, I realize what she's done and sprint toward the door. I try to twist the handle, try to yank open the door but I know she's locked it. My fists are hammering against the panels of the door before I know it as I yell my friend's name. Well, as much of a friend as she is now.

"Jisoo! Open the fucking door!"

"No, Lisa," I hear muffled from behind the door, and I halt my pounding fist for two seconds as I listen to her words. "You two are going to sort this out, and I'm not letting you out until you do."

It's not like I don't want to talk to Rosé, but I don't like that I'm being forced into it.

It's making me not want to do it, and shit, I don't want to go into—quite possibly—one of the biggest conversations of my life with anger in my veins. Even when I'm in a pretty regular mood, when I have a serious conversation I seem to come out with things I don't mean, whether they're harsh or not; so I definitely don't want to discuss mine and Rosé's future while I'm pissed at Jisoo for forcing me to have it because it might lead me to say a number of things I don't mean. That's just how I roll.

So with that in mind, I just carry on slamming my curled hand against the door, yelling for Jisoo to open the fucking thing.

***

I do that for fifteen minutes.

By the end of it, my hand is aching like a bitch, Jisoo still hasn't opened the door and my throat feels all scratchy and hoarse from the shouting and cursing.

But the one thing, above all that, that I notice, is that Rosé hasn't spoken since I was shoved in here with her.

When I first turn around and find her sitting on the floor, legs crossed and hands toying with something between her fingers, I question why she hasn't been doing the same thing I have and tried to get out the door. Or even looked out the window like I did on the seventh minute of protesting being locked in this room, only to find that there was no fire escape (which is probably illegal) so I really don't have any way of getting out.

But then the second thing I feel is guilt. Heavy guilt panging through my chest like someone just plucked a string, because it slowly sinks in that maybe she wanted to get locked in here with me, purely for the fact that I would've had to speak. Yet here I am, pounding my fist against the door, trying to get out and probably conveying that I didn't want to talk at all.

I really am a fucking idiot.

So gingerly, I bring my hand down from the door and let it hang weakly by my side as I make my way over to Rosé. I stand over her for a second, just staring down, but she doesn't look up and I kind of hate myself a little for that. Because after everything, after all we're talking about not going further until we had a conversation, until I read a journal, when I was finally faced with the chance to finally figure out what the hell's going on, I wanted to get away at a chance I was given to talk to her.

How the hell do I think I've made her feel now? God.

"Rosie," I whisper, my voice breaking.

She doesn't make a move to respond or even look at me, and my face falters a little, eyebrows twitching and lip trembling. I don't want her to be mad at me.

"Rosé... I'm sorry."

This causes a reaction, but it's only a long, heavy sigh and a light tilt of her head, eyes barely flickering up to me.