𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 • 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡é𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭

58

peaches

SHRILL SHRIEKS AND laughter came out of Rosas room as she sat on top of Timothée. She'd had a fever over night and was told to come in, she was upset as she couldn't see Anna but knew she would be able too soon. The tweezers dangled ever so closely to his face as she stuck her tongue out, plucking each hair that sat in between his eyebrows.

"That fucking hurts." He attempted to speak between bursts of laughter.

Rosa just shushed him, yanking out one more hair before leaning back and sighing. "Done. Perfecto."

She climbed off of him, laying beside him, her chest breathing heavily. "Is Armie coming today?"

"He would be here in a minute." Timothée replied, placing an arm around her. They sat in silence for a few moments until Timothée broke the silence. "I want to take you out. On an actual date."

Rosa smiled, turning away from him, hiding her face. "An actual date? Like to a posh restaurant or something."

"Yeah. A posh restaurant." Timmy repeated her words, kissing her forehead. She smiled, snuggling into him. "Or maybe Paris."

"Paris?"

"Yeah. I want to take you to Paris." He replied, making small patterns on her shoulder as she sighed.

"It could be years until I'm able to go." She mumbled.

"Years? Rosa, you're so much better now. You need to think positive. You're going to be out here in no time." Timmy defended. Silence fell over the room again. This time Rosa broke it.

"Italy."

"Hm?"

"I want you to take me to Italy."