FIXATION

SIX

So far she'd found a pair of blue sweatpants, now all she needed was a t-shirt. Her hand brushed over something plastic, her eyebrows furrowed and she revealed a Polaroid. She tried squinting through the dark but couldn't make out the imagine in the photo. The light switch flipped on and she saw a very naked Steve in the Polaroid. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes widened and palms sweated when she looked up at the doorway at a clothed version of Steve.

"Oh my gosh..!" She giggled once fully registering the situation .

"Put those back..!" He pointed to her hand as she snickered, her face red. Rosalie looked back down at Polaroid again, making her face red, again. Steve's face had never been more flushed than when he stumbled across the room and snatched the Polaroid from her hands.

"Why do you have those?" She squeaked through a few chuckles and he faced his dresser after slamming it shut. "How'd you take the picture? You must be pretty flexible. Unless.. Steve, did someone else take those"-

"Why are you going through my stuff?"

She looked down, away from his angry face and scratched the back of her neck. The imagine of Steve without clothes, glued to her brain, made her giggle again. "I.. just needed a picture- I mean a shirt..!" She busted out into more laughs and turned away from Steve. A dark green shirt fell into her hands and Steve turned her towards the door and out of his room.

"You're not allowed in my room anymore," he told her as he ushered her out.

"Why?" She turned her face to grin at him. "Do you have more pictures you don't want me to see?" Rosalie teased as he stopped her in front of the bathroom. When he stopped pushing her she turned to face him. He ran a long hand down his face.

"Can we just pretend this never happened?"

"I cannot promise you that I won't bring it up from time to time."

Steve glared down at her, opened his mouth, then shut it again - as if deciding what he was going to say was better left unsaid. "Stay out of my room," he warned her again before walking down the stairs. As he descended the stairs he kept a pointed finger directed right at her. "And don't use all the hot water."

"I'll try not to," she mumbled glancing at his bedroom door. Rosalie snickered to herself before turning and going into the bathroom.

The Harrington's household held the most clean and as equally hot water Rosalie had ever felt. The more she scrubbed with the multicolor shower scrub that probably belonged to his mother, the cleaner she felt. A minute felt like an hour, and for all she knew she had probably showered for days. Somehow, after exfoliating her body, she found the strength to shut the hot water off. Her arm steamed as she reached out the shower glass doors and pulled her towel back into the small confides of the shower.

She hummed to herself, the towel around her body while she tiptoed out the shower. The door flung open, causing Rosalie's eyes to pop out of her head. Her weak hands dropped her towel as she gasped and felt her stomach plummet. Whatever Steve had been saying when he walked through the door trailed off right after he rose his hand to his mouth to cover his booming laugh.

"Steve..!" She screeched turning away from him, facing the tiled wall. She bent down and picked her damp towel up.

"Sorry. Sorry," Steve repeated and started to chuckle all over again. He didn't even attempt to try and shut his eyes or try to look away from Rosalie's naked body.