Hard To Believe

Chapter Twenty-One

Rosemary had to spend the entire day in the hospital and was forced to stay overnight. Normally, a patient would hate that. No one would want to stay alone in a cold, lonely hospital room with the horrible food and the smell of medicine and sterile. But Rosemary didn't mind at all, for Davy promised to stay with her all night.

That night, however, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned on her bed, squeezed her eyes shut and waited for a slumber of moving pictures to fill up her eyes and overcome her body. She tried counting sheep silently, the simple number of each sheep quietly escaping her lips. She tried humming herself a simple lullaby. But no such luck. No lullaby could make her sleep.

"Christ," she breathed silently.

"You too, eh?" a voice said on her right.

She jumped and sat up hastily. She whipped her head to the direction of the voice, but when she realized who the voice belonged to, she quietly chuckled at herself. She forgot Davy was there.

"Can't sleep," she sighed.

"You're not alone," Davy muttered.

"I don't know if I'm just not tired or if I just can't stop thinking about... what happened," Rosemary said.

"I think we both know why, Rosy," Davy said quietly.

Rosemary closed her eyes and sighed through her nose. She definitely knew why. She had felt depressed before, but she never self-harmed. And she certainly never thought she'd do it after realizing Davy still had feelings for her. And after realizing she had feelings for him.

Davy sucked on his lower lip thoughtfully and gazed at Rosemary through concerned, slightly hazy brown eyes. In that spur of a moment, she suddenly looked more beautiful than he remembered. She had let her hair grow, so it was midway down her back. Her green eyes looked greener than before, and the silver specks in her irises shone more brightly than any shooting star. Her plump, pink lips were heart-shaped and soft, just waiting for another set of lips to connect with. Her smooth, porcelain, once-tanned skin had gone lighter than before, like she had bathed herself in the moonlight.

She looked ill. Through the amount of blood she lost, she wasn't well. She didn't look it either. But... it made Davy crave to hold her even more. Just to comfort her and let her know that she isn't alone, and she doesn't have to feel alone anymore.

Davy stood up and placed a hand on her head. He threaded his fingers through her tangled midnight-black hair.

"You look terrible," he said cheekily.

"Gee, thanks, I needed to hear that," Rosemary said, her scratchy voice dripping with obvious sarcasm.

"I meant it in a good way, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't. But thanks."

Davy pressed his lips together into a thin line, biting back a smile that threatened to curve the corners of his mouth. Rosemary shifted to the left side of her bed to make space. Davy slid into the bed next to her. He draped his arm over her shoulders, and she allowed him to pull her to his chest, where she faintly heard his heart gently flutter at a normal, even pace.

"I called your dad a few days ago," he murmured.

Rosemary's relaxed shoulders lifted in a tense motion. "What?" she whispered.

"It's ok," he assured her with a warm smile, gracing her insides with what felt like a hot liquid. "I figured he should know about your mum."

"I suppose," she said in a silent mumble.

"I think he's changed, Rosy," Davy said after a moment of pure quietness.

Rosemary nodded. "I know he has."

She didn't know how she knew. But she just knew.

If her father was able to talk with Davy without any troubles, then he clearly changed.

Rosemary fell asleep, engulfed in Davy's arms.

And she never felt so at peace with herself.

***

Rosemary left the hospital the next morning with her favourite boys. The day before, it was incredibly gloomy. The clouds had been a dull shade of grey, blocking the sun's capability of shining down on the earth. The grass had been dark, wet, and muddy. The spine-chilling claps of thunder had made the hairs on anyone's neck stand up as straight as a ruler.

But today was gloriously beautiful. The sun finally revealed itself, peeking through the eggshell-white clouds and gleaming down at a glowing Rosemary. The grass turned avocado-green in a matter of days, adorning the daisies and lilacs that blossomed from the fleecy ground. The breeze was soft, whispering inaudible melodies in the ears of the trees in their wake. The sky was a remarkable, brilliant blue.

Oh, it was bliss.

When Rosemary stepped inside the Monkees' pad, a warm sensation revolved around her surroundings. She felt at home. She never imagined herself living with four boys in a quiet beachside home. But here she was. And she loved it.

Davy followed her upstairs in the bedroom. The others thought it best to leave them alone, for they really needed that.

"This turned out to be a strange day," Peter smiled tiredly as he flopped down on the sofa.

Mike and Micky chuckled quietly.

"I'll say," Mike agreed.

Upstairs in the room, Rosemary was staring out the window, watching the bluebirds flying about, looking down upon the blue sea in awe.

Davy's hands found her waist. She allowed him to slide his arms around her, embracing her from behind. She felt him rest his chin on her bare shoulders and his warm, precious lips brush against her cheek.

"You ok?" he said, his voice coming out muffled against the crook of her neck.

"Never better," she sighed contentedly, her knees weakening when she felt his lips kissing up her neck.

He spun her around so she was looking him in the eyes and kissed her. By then, they were sitting on his bed, though they parted their lips from each other. Davy stared with concern.

"Are you sure you want to...?"

"Positive."

And they did. They made love and lay on the bed with the duvets covering them. They were snuggled up and cozy, enjoying each other's company and magical touch.

Oh, how I missed your company, dear Rosy.

How I missed your soft skin making contact with mine.

I'll never let you go again.

Ever.

Oh, those cheesy little cinnamon rolls! 🙃