Resisting Rosaleen (18+)

20

"I fucking hate Devon," said Jie, followed by the springs of her bed as it carried her weight.

"Could be worse," I commented as I brushed my black hair.

"I don't wanna wash the dishes tomorrow! I can't remember the last time I did that shit."

"At least your parents won't find out," I mentioned the bright side. It really could've been worse.

"Yeah," she sighed, "If it wasn't for Mr. Camillo. God bless that man."

I smiled to myself. I walked to the light switch and turned it off. "We should sleep. We have stuff to do tomorrow and you have dishes to wash."

"Oh, fuck that," Jie got under her blanket as I got under mine. Not a moment later, her head popped up again, "Rose?"

"Hm?"

"Our phones?"

Oh shit.

"Mr. Camillo wasn't in his room," I shrugged, "I'll get them tomorrow before they collect them again. Sorry."

"It's okay," she sounded tired, "Goodnight."

It was easy to guess who was on my mind as I drifted to slumber. And when I woke up, the said person was also my first thought. My next thought was that whoever was knocking so early in the morning is gonna get my own fist knocking on their face.

Grumbling, I got up and glared at the door which decided to wake us at fucking four in the morning. I tiptoed, not wanting to wake the softly snoring Jie. I wrapped my hand around the knob and turned, revealing Mr. Camillo in a black sweater, black denim pants, and a gray coat. His bag was on the floor and he had two phones in his hands. He stared at me and I stared back. He swallowed and I did too.

"You forgot something."

And his lips came crashing down onto mine.

To say that I was surprised would be the understatement of the century. In fact, I don't think I can describe the feeling in words. Never had I thought such a stimuli could be so overtaking that I was nearly braindead in just seconds.

I've kissed a lot of people in my life. But as Nikolas's lips melted against mine, everyone else in the past was just a dream Camillo was the waking world.

Mr. Camillo's lips were sweet in the sweetest sense. They were soft—so soft that they felt fragile. He felt much better than I expected which was a win-lose. Why it was a win was self-explanatory. Why it was a lose, however, I was afraid to admit.

We stood there kissing. Kissing. He was kissing me. I was kissing him back.

His lips parted mine and we went at a slow pace. I didn't want it to be over, but we had to stop sooner or later. He pulled away only to plant one last soft little peck on my mouth. Nikolas breathed heavily, catching his breath. Literally, I must've taken his breath away.

"Here," he handed me the phones and slung the strap of his bag onto his shoulder. The first thing I looked for was guilt on his face. I didn't find it. Only anxiety, a shit load of it.

"Have a safe, uh, a-a safe trip, Mr. Camillo."

He looked like a little boy caught watching porn.

"Y-You too."

Me too?

"When you go home in two days, I mean. Have a safe trip then."

"Yes. Of course. I can't die yet, I'm too pretty to be wasted... like that. Goodbye."

And before he could say bye, in the most awkward I've been since... since... I can't remember because I couldn't think straight, I slammed the door in Nick's face.