Somewhere Over the Rainbow

XXVIII

| CHAPTER - XXVIII | 

MY HEART RACES, FOOL 

Rosanna wakes up the following morning, a bright Thursday. She yawns loudly, hair an absolute mess. She yawns again, stretching before rolling around to check the time, squinting in the darkness of her room. When her phone lights up, she mutters a curse, eyes stinging at the new found brightness. 

Yawning, she reads that it is half past four in the morning and she cannot understand why she is up at such a bizarre time in the day. She lays back on bed, counting in her head and humming a song to get herself to fall asleep. 

But her asshole of a phone rings and when she picks it up, it's her asshole of an admirer calling. It's the fucking morning and there is only little people up at such a horrific hour can want. Either he was dying or he just chooses to be an absolute shit at certain hours. 

"I swear to God –" 

"You really need to stop opening up with threats you don't mean, Rose," Charles condemns from the other end of the line, possibly shaking his head. 

"You're still a little shit," Rosanna yawns, rubbing her eyes. Her heart is racing and she is just now becoming aware of it, too caught up with listening to his groggy. The traces of the morning makes him sound even more desirable than he already is. 

"Wanna go watch the sun rise with me?" Charles casually asks, as if bizarre questions exchanged between them are a daily thing. 

Rosanna grins, amazed by how his mind manages to make him crave the most spontaneous of things. "It's four in the morning." 

"Well, no, shit, Rosanna – I'm sorry that the sun doesn't rise in the afternoon," Charles retorts from the other end, and for sure, having adopted Rosanna's habit, he is rolling his eyes. 

"Don't roll your eyes at me," Rosanna sternly warns, biting onto her lower lip to keep her grin from spreading. 

Charles chuckles and Rosanna sucks in a breath. "Know that much about me, already?" 

"Narcissism isn't what I look for in a man," Rosanna answers, her voice raspy. 

Charles stays silent for a moment. "Can you just get dressed and be ready? I'll be there in twenty." 

Rosanna tilts her head, wondering how a boy can be so sure of her. "I haven't said yes." 

"Stop pretending as if I'm not into you and you're not into me," Charles laughs, his voice bubbly. 

Fifteen minutes later, Rosanna is opening the front door to meet Charles. The morning breezes tingles her bare legs in her lilac shorties. She gasps at the cold, clutching the white material of  her deep v-neck, knit sweater closer to her, as it tends to fall of one of her shoulders. It exposes the bralette she wears underneath. 

Her hair is a mess, a full mess of raven hair. Her thick eyebrows are uncombed but she loves them the way they are. It's four in the morning, she isn't going to dress to impress anyone. 

But Charles. 

He isn't dressed to impress, either, in sweats and a crew-neck hoodie. But still. He manages to get Rosanna to gasp at his appearance and her heart race at how gorgeous he looks. God damnit! Rosanna curses, knowing very well that her control is slipping away. 

She'll be lucky if she makes it through the sun rise without loosing her mind. 

"I got a blanket," Charles whispers, trying not to wake anyone up at this hour – except Rosanna, Rosanna he loved to annoy.