So it goes, he can't keep his wild eyes on the road
Takes me home, lights are off he's taking off his coat
I say "I've heard that you've been out and about with some other girl, some other girl"
He says "What you've heard is true but I
Can't stop thinking about you" and I
I said "I've been there too a few times"
'Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye
And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt
And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
-
They didn't speak as their footsteps crunched gravel underfoot, and Rosie climbed into the passenger seat of Jennie's Audi as Jennie climbed behind the wheel, and they sat in darkness as she started the engine and turned the headlights on, illuminating the driveway and wall of trees. Music started playing from the speakers and Jennie automatically reached out for it as she turned to look at Rosie, her face half in shadow.
"Are you still writing for the album?"
Rosie nodded, and Jennie immediately turned the music off. The small gesture made Rosie shrink back into the soft leather of her seat, her stomach lurching as she glanced sideways at Jennie. It was such a small thing to remember that Rosie isolated herself from music when writing, but it had been second nature for Jennie, and Rosie felt unsettled by how normal it felt. She couldn't help but wince slightly, biting her lip as she turned her attention to the two beams of light shining through the darkness of the middle of the night, feeling wide awake as the tension between them hung heavily.
They made it down the long driveway and through the gates, turning right onto the wide streets lined with gated estates and ghostly palm trees. Neither of them spoke and Rosie was growing restless as her heart pounded in her chest, until she couldn't stop herself from speaking, from saying anything , no matter how trivial or boring.
"How've you been?"
She jolted forward against the seatbelt as Jennie brought the car to a sudden halt, shouldering hunching as she hung her head and started to cry. Falling back against her seat, Rosie stared at her wide wide eyes, listening to the quiet sobs as Jennie's shoulder shook. And she wanted to reach out and feel the shifting muscles and slender bones beneath her jacket, to rub her back and ask her what was wrong, but she already knew. And her eyes prickled with tears as she forced herself to sit there, at a standstill in the middle of the road as the engine purred.
"Let me drive," Rosie quietly said after a few moments.
And she knew that it was an excuse to stop herself from breaching the gap across the centre console and wrapping her arms around Jennie, pressing her cheek against her shaking shoulder and holding her as she cried. Because that's what she so badly wanted to do, but they weren't in a place where she felt like she could do that. She didn't know where they stood.
Straightening up, Jennie exhaled forcefully, angrily wiping at her damp cheeks as she shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine, I just-"
"Let me drive," Rosie repeated, her voice soft yet firm, hesitating for a moment before she glanced at Jennie. "You're a terrible driver anyway."
Choking on a laugh, Jennie nodded, sniffing as she threw the car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt. The interior flooded with light as she opened her door, and Rosie unbuckled her own belt and climbed into the driver's seat, watching as Jennie passed in front of the headlights and slid into the passenger seat. Adjusting the seat for her longer legs, Rosie glanced in the rearview mirror and then started driving.
The silence in the car was stifling, with Jennie's shuddering breaths as she tried to get herself under control, and the charge in the air was almost palpable. Driving through the night, Rosie felt her heart fluttering anxiously in her throat as she kept going. Neither of them had to ask where they were going; they left the city far behind in a haze of yellow light in exchange for the dusty stretch of scrubland and the speckled starry night blanketing the heavens like rich velvet.
Winding the windows down to let the mild night air into the stuffy car, they breathed in the dry smell of the desert and as soon as they were far enough away from any sign of life, Rosie put the car into park and switched the engine off. They both stared out at the stretch of flat land lit up in front of them before Rosie turned the headlights off too and got out of the car without a word.
Slamming the door shut behind her, she buried her hands in her pockets and stalked away from the car, shoulders taut as she listened to the car door open. She didn't go far, just a few steps, standing with her back to Jennie, running her hands through her hair in a familiar anxious habit. Her skin prickled with the keen awareness of Jennie standing nearby, and Rosie swallowed thickly as she stared out at the monochrome night, feeling so many warring emotions that she didn't know whether to be ecstatic, furious or sad.
With a heavy sigh, she turned, crunching sand underfoot, and peered through the silvery moonlight to fix Jennie with a bewildered look. Her expression was severe, eyes dark and brooding, and Rosie looked at the figure leaning against the hood of the car with just plain confusion.
"What're we doing here?" Rosie quietly asked.
"I just- I miss you."
With a quiet snort of laughter, Rosie hung her head as she scuffed the toe of her shoe through the sand. "You've said that before."
"I wanted to apologise."
"You've said that again too."
Jennie took a lunging step forward, and Rosie looked with mild surprise as she watched her cross the distance separating them, a yearning look on her face that made Rosie's insides twist, and not in an unpleasant way.
"Rosie, I-"
Cutting off, Jennie let out a shaky breath, before she covered her face with both hands, tipping her head back as her short hair spilt around her. Raking a hand through her hair, she fisted a handful and swallowed thickly, giving Rosie a mournful look, her eyes silver in the night and swimming with regret.
"I'm sorry. I made a mistake that night and I've regretted it every moment since. I wanted to call you - I tried - I just- I thought I was making the right decision for myself ... but I wasn't. And you were right; what's the point if I can't have you?"
"God, Jennie! Don't do this," Rosie said in a low voice, unable to stop the tremble, her hands balling into fists. "Please. Don't get my hopes up again."
Taking another step forward, Jennie's fingertips just managed to graze Rosie's cheek before Rosie quickly stepped back out of arm's reach, watching as Jennie's arm fell limply back to her side. She looked small standing in front of her, worn down and burdened with her troubles, and Rosie couldn't help but pity her.
"I still love you. You know I do."
"I know," Rosie murmured, "I never doubted that."
"Rosie, please-"
"You said you weren't happy," Rosie accusingly told her, her tone sharper than she intended as she gave her a hard look, brow furrowing heavily over her eyes. "That's what you said. That you didn't like it and I made you feel trapped."
"I know, but-"
"But what? Nothing's changed! So what? You miss me now, but what about in a couple of months when you realise all the things we can't fix are still there? I'm just supposed to let you leave me again?"
They descended into silence as Rosie felt herself brimming with so many unsaid things she wanted to hurl at Jennie, a burning pressure building behind her eyes as she swallowed thickly, watching the other woman's mouth open and close without any words coming out.
The desert breeze ruffled their hair as they stood apart, Rosie taut like a coiled spring while Jennie stood stooped with defeat, cowed by her anger. They both knew that nothing had changed, that there was only so much they could hope that things would be different this time without changing anything, and Rosie's expression softened into one of wounded longing as she let out a pent up breath.
"Look, I-" she cut off and swallowed the lump in her throat as she closed her eyes. Exhaling sharply, she ruffled her bangs and shoved a hand in her pocket, trying again. "I want to believe you, and I want to believe that it'll be different this time. I just- every time I let you in ... you just turn around and leave me. And it hurts. Once? Okay, perhaps the timing was wrong. But twice? And then to come back again?"
Wincing, Jennie closed her eyes and turned her head, as if she couldn't bear the pain of the words. The muscles in her jaw twinged as she clenched her teeth, and Rosie was painfully reminded of all the times she'd kissed the underside of it. And she hated that she wanted to kiss her right there right now.
"I know I fucked up," Jennie said, face twisting as she turned even more, "I just- sometimes I'm not- I'm not happy. And I don't know how to be around people when I'm like that. I know you think I was pushing you away ... I was , but I- you have to know that it wasn't you. "
"I know it wasn't me!" Rosie exclaimed, an incredulous look on her face, "and I don't blame you for not wanting to hide, I just- you didn't even try. You didn't even try and figure this out with me. You didn't hesitate to just ... go. "
Rosie gestured her hand around vaguely, her expression darkening with anger as she looked at Jennie, who had her head tipped back as she slowly turned her back on her. Her hair was like spun silver in the dark and she breathed slowly with her face upturned to the moon, skin washed a ghostly white as strange shadows pooled in the hollows of her face.
"You just left."
"I know," Jennie said, her voice full of pain and thick with tears, "but I'm doing better, I just- I miss you. God, I can't stop thinking about you, Rosie. I can't sleep, I can't eat. I just keep thinking about how badly I messed this up, and I'm not asking for you to give me another chance. I just- I don't want you to hate me. I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry, and I know that's not enough, but I ... I am."
"What do you want?"
Blinking in surprise, Jennie jerked back slightly, eyes widening. She was quiet for a beat as if the question caught her off guard, and Rosie was restless, brimming with energy as she flexed her fingers, resisting the urge to start pacing.
"I- nothing. I don't want anything. Except to see you."
"And then what?"
Opening and closing her mouth, Jennie shook her head as she spread her arms, a grim look of resignation on her face. "I don't know. I just don't know, Rosie. I want you, I know that much, but I can't ask you for something I don't deserve, because you're right - nothing's changed."
A spasm of pain ran across Rosie's face and she cupped the back of her neck, tipping her head back as a faint sigh escaped her parted lips. Everything felt so hard, so confusing, and she just wanted it to be simple. Why wasn't it enough that she loved Jennie and Jennie loved her back? Nothing else should've mattered, but it did.
"I wish I could tell you it had," Rosie murmured, cool air caressing her skin as they stood in the middle of the desert, lost and longing for each other. "I wish I could say that it would be easier if we did it all again, but I just don't think it will be."
The fact that she'd driven them all the way out to the desert to have that conversation was all the proof that she needed to know that they would just fall back into their own ways, and she wasn't entirely convinced that it would be enough for Jennie. If things were different, they could've gone to a coffee shop in the middle of the night, slipping into an empty booth and talking things over lattes without any fears of someone catching them, but that nagging worry was always at the back of her mind when she was with Jennie.
They had to drive out of the city in the dead of night out of paranoia. Rosie couldn't bring herself to fault Jennie for finding it too difficult to love her, because it was difficult. It was hard sneaking around, knowing that if they got caught it could be the end of everything. Every glance, every brush of their hand and secret smile would be analysed by the world, and it was terrifying to imagine their relationship being put under amicroscope. Rosie didn't know which was worse, because she wanted to be able to openly love Jennie, but not with the pressure of being in the spotlight.
"I don't care," Jennie said, her voice a low plea as she stepped toward Rosie.
Lowering her head, Rosie looked at her, taking in the desperation and panic written on Jennie's face, and deflated. With a sad smile, Rosie crossed the rest of the gap dividing them and reached up to cup Jennie's face in her hands. Her skin was cool and soft to touch, and Rosie felt a lump lodged itself in her throat as her mouth went dry.
"You do, and that's okay," she hoarsely replied. "But I do love you. I miss you and I want you and I love you. But I don't know how serious you are, and that frightens me."
Bottom lip trembling as she let out a shaky breath, Jennie reached up and covered Rosie's hand with her own, slender fingers wrapping and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm serious."
Dropping her hands, Rosie ruffled her bangs and sighed heavily, jerking her head back towards the car. "We should go."
She trudged back towards the car, rounding the hood to climb into the passenger side, and Jennie stood outside in the dark for a few moments, silhouetted against the starry sky as she bowed her head. Her face was grave as she climbed behind the wheel, moving the seat back and quietly shut the door behind herself. Gripping the wheel tightly in her hands, she stared straight out at the stretch of nothingness ahead.
"So this is it?"
"I don't know," Rosie whispered, feeling her heart break a little bit more.
Nodding, Jennie silently turned the car on, the engine purring to life and the headlights illuminating the desert. She brought the car around back the way they came, wheels sending up clouds of dust as they breathed in the dry, cool air, and Rosie felt regret well up inside her as they made for the hum of yellow lights far in the distance.
She was restless the entire length of the drive, neither of them saying much as they joined the highway, the sound of other cars heading toward Miami a comforting drone as they sped past. As they wound their way through the city centre and out to the lavish suburbs of the rich and famous, Rosie felt time slipping through her fingers, her opportunity fading quickly as the miles disappeared beneath the wheels. She was suddenly scared that this was goodbye and it made her dig her heels in, reluctant to let go.
Jennie was solemn and quiet, the muscle in her jaw occasionally clenching, her throat bobbing as she swallowed thickly, and Rosie watched the ghostly profile of her face, taking in the familiar curve of her nose, the angle of her jaw, the way her eyelashes dusted her cheekbones. It was all so familiar that it made her chest ache. She would know her anywhere; Jennie was etched so deeply into her mind that she couldn't see anyone else. With absolute certainty, Rosie knew that she'd never be able to say goodbye, no matter how the night ended.
Eventually, they reached the gated driveway of Rosie's estate and she passed Jennie her set of keys and let her scan the chip to let them in, before they started slowly rolling down the gravel path, their time creeping to a close. And still, it felt so wrong to Rosie. How could it feel right to give up on someone she wanted? If it was right to say goodbye, why didn't it feel like she was making the right decision? All she felt was heartbreak and a hollow emptiness, bitter regret and the urge to grab hold of Jennie and never let her go. Every inch of her felt wrong about it.
As they came to a halt outside the front door Rosie made no move to get out of the car. Sitting in the front seat, she wrestled with her feelings for a moment, her mind already made up without even thinking about it, and she turned to look at Jennie with a wary expression on her face.
"Do you want to come in?" Rosie found herself asking, despite her reservations earlier on in the night.
Blinking in surprise, eyebrows rising slightly, Jennie opened and closed her mouth as a flicker of hope ran across her face. "I- yeah, sure."
Turning the car off, plunging them into darkness, Jennie stepped out of the car and Rosie followed suit. Heart stumbling over itself in her chest, Rosie walked on ahead, breath caught in her throat, and jingled her keys in her hand as the porch light turned on at her approach.
The house was still as she opened the door, hinges squeaking and shadows gathering inside. The lateness of the hour was somewhat more noticeable as she stepped inside, nothing stirring as if the world was sleeping, and she quietly shut the door behind Jennie as she joined her in the foyer.
Keys rattling loudly in the silence, Rosie set them on the table and padded through the still house, listening to the slow footsteps behind her. Each one made her stomach twist just a little bit more, anticipation hanging so heavily in the air that Rosie almost couldn't bear it. She wondered if Jennie could feel it too, the thick tension between them, the suspense of wondering what came next, even though Rosie could already see it.
She stepped into the kitchen and stopped beside the counters, leaning against the marble as she watched the short shadowy figure take off her coat and toss it over the back of one of the barstools. Moonlight filtered in through the french doors but the dim light made a blur of Jennie's features as she stood in the middle of the room, uncertain.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"If you like."
Rosie nodded but made no move to fetch anything. She was scrambling for more time, putting off the inevitable, and they both knew it. Glancing down at the veins winding their way through the stone, Rosie chewed on her bottom lip, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she looked up at Jennie through hooded eyes, taking in the fitted white t-shirt and the way she ran her hand through her hair, slicking it back.
"I, uh, I heard that Krystal was in Paris with you," Rosie hedged, her heart fluttering in her chest as she balled her clammy hands into fists, her throat dry as she looked at the shadowed figure standing in her kitchen.
"I- yeah, she came to visit. To check up on me. But I ... well, I couldn't stop thinking about you. You and me."
Letting out a quiet, breathless laugh, Rosie felt a lump in her throat as she felt a nervous tug in her stomach. "Yeah, I know the feeling. I've been doing some thinking about us too."
"Yeah?"
Jennie's voice was soft and hopeful and it melted Rosie a little as she felt a strong pining for her rise up within her. It was almost painful how badly she wanted her, her heart aching as her brow furrowed slightly with a grave look, and it was like she was watching an old movie she'd already seen before because Rosie knew exactly what was going to happen next, and she didn't even try to stop it.
With the slow suspense of someone who knew how this played out and was waiting for it all to come crashing down, Rosie drifted towards Jennie, anticipation heavy in the air as she let her fingertips glide over the marble counter. It was cold beneath her touch, solid and grounding, and Rosie was keenly aware of the decision she was making. It was no thoughtless lack of strength, and perhaps it would end up becoming a lapse in her judgement, but it didn't feel like that at the time. There was only burning desire and the firm resolution that she'd get what she wanted.
"Yeah," she murmured as she moved even closer to Jennie.
Scant inches separated them and Rosie could feel the heat radiating off her, feel Jennie's warm breath ghosting her lips, and she paused for a moment, the air between them charged and weighted with all the things still left unsaid between them. But she didn't want to talk anymore. In a way, she'd made up her mind the moment she'd asked Jennie if she wanted to come inside.
Reaching down, she gently ran her knuckles across Jennie's cheekbone, lips twitching with a small smile as she felt her lean into the touch, so warm and soft. Raking her fingers through Jennie's short hair, she balled her hand in it at the nape of her neck as Jennie raised her head. Her hands came up to carefully cradle Rosie's face with such tenderness that it was almost like Jennie was afraid that she'd break her with just one touch. Her thumbs gently pressed against Rosie's temples, fingertips splayed on the underside of her jaw, and she tipped her face up until they were so close that Rosie felt a searing heat rush through her.
The breathless lead up to the kiss was nothing compared to how it felt when Jennie's lips slowly came down on hers, her mouth hot and firm, and Rosie tightened her grip in Jennie's short hair as she pressed herself closer. All of the tension inside her unravelled as Jennie kissed her slowly, and Rosie only grew impatient, the need for more so strong and urging that she could feel the warmth radiating from Jennie from how close she was.
Her hand was fisted in Jennie's white t-shirt as Jennie's lips fell to her neck, and Rosie closed her eyes as she let her head loll to the side, her skin rippling with goosebumps as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She hoisted Jennie up onto the countertop a moment later, Jennie's legs wrapping around her waist, and she broke off the kiss to stare at Jennie, taking in her bruised lips and wide eyes.
"Bedroom," Rosie murmured as she leant back in, crushing her lips back to Jennie's.
Humming against her lips, Jennie lifted her in a deft movement, hands gripping her thighs as her biceps strained against her t-shirt. Rosie's nose bumped against hers as she kissed her softly, laughing against Jennie's lips as the brunette lurched unsteadily, scrambling for the wall to catch herself.
In the hallway, Rosie slid out of her grasp, kissing her chastely before tugging on the waistband of her jeans. Jennie came willingly, eagerly, and Rosie felt flushed and giddy as she rushed to her room. Her sweatshirt was off before she even stepped into her bedroom, hitting the floor with a soft thump, before warm fingers closed around her wrist and pulled her around.
Hands cupped her cheeks and Jennie pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, bearing down on her in a way that made Rosie's toes curl as she scrambled to tug her top off. Jennie shed it willingly and the rest of their clothes followed suit until they were twisted up in the bedsheets and all talk and worries ceased for the time being.
The sky was the dark grey preceding dawn when they finally found themselves laying spent, side by side as sweat dried on their skin, and Rosie could barely keep her eyes open. For the first time in a long while, she felt tired in the best kind of way, her limbs loose and mind pleasantly sluggish. Jennie's fingertips gently glided over the pale expanse of her back above the sheets gathered at her waist and Rosie smiled faintly as she buried her face in a pillow.
"So ... does this mean you've made up your mind?" Jennie eventually asked, voice low and uncertain, yet full of hope.
Muffling a quiet sigh in the pillow, Rosie turned onto her side, facing away from Jennie as she looked out at the approaching dawn. "I ... don't know."
"Once is a mistake," Jennie said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, "twice is a decision."
She pressed a kiss to the side of Rosie's neck, smiling against her skin at the goosebumps that rippled across her skin. Rosie closed her eyes against the feeling as her eyebrows drew together.
"Three times is-"
"Three times is just asking for trouble."
She wasn't just talking about the sex and they both knew it. Rosie felt weariness slam into her, burning behind her eyes as she lay there, and it wasn't all physical. Of course, she wanted togive in to the part of her that overwhelmingly wanted Jennie, but there was that small voice of doubt, and Rosie couldn't help but listen to it. It wasn't a no, as per se, but she knew that she wouldn't be so naïve walking back to Jennie.
There were serious problems they needed to talk about first, and Rosie had her reservations about jumping back into bed with Jennie - in a serious way - without sorting through things first. Her concerns weren't unfounded; she'd been right when she'd said that nothing had changed. Rosie was apprehensive about getting ahead of herself again without at least trying to come to some sort of middle-ground for them both. It was the only plausible way she could see them getting back on track and recovering from the burning wreckage they'd become.
"I need some time to think."
"Time I can do," Jennie quickly agreed. "As much as you need."
Rolling onto her back, Rosie glanced at her in the early morning light, giving her a strained smile, "I do trust you, Jennie. I just-"
"I know," Jennie murmured, her brow furrowing with a serious look. "I'm sorry. I know it's not fair for me to come back again and beg you to take me back. There's no rush, really."
"Thank you."
Giving her a small smile, Jennie rested her chin in her cupped palm and stared at her for a few moments. Reaching up, Rosie brushed a bluntly chopped lock of hair out of her face, twisting it through her fingers as she thought about how different it made Jennie look - still beautiful, just different, less soft and youthful - before tucking it behind her ear. Sighing softly, Rosie gave her a grim smile.
"You should go."
"Right," Jennie whispered, pushing herself up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
She stretched her arms out in front of her, spine curving and the bumps of vertebrae visible beneath her skin, and Rosie wanted to kiss her way down Jennie's back. Instead, she climbed out of bed and put a robe on, watching as Jennie scrambled for her clothes, dressing quickly and running a hand through her dishevelled hair.
Catching her staring, Jennie smiled slightly before running a hand over her face. She looked as tired as Rosie felt, and her footsteps were slow as she walked through the house. Hank emerged from the sitting room, tail wagging as he scrambled toward them, and Rosie hung back as she watched as Jennie crouched down to scratch him beneath the chin, cooing as she shoved her foot into one of the shoes she held.
Giving him one final pat, she straightened up, shoes squeaking against the floor as she pushed her foot into the other one, and then picked her keys up from the table near the door. With a hesitant smile, she opened the door and glanced at Rosie, who drifted closer, leaning in the doorway as Jennie stepped outside.
They paused for a moment, uncertainty and desire hanging between them, and Rosie's cheek dimpled as she gave her a lopsided smile. "I'll call you."
Twisting her car keys in her hands, Jennie nodded, hesitating slightly before she leant in and pressed a soft kiss to Rosie's cheek. "Okay. I'll see you soon then."
"Yeah," Rosie agreed.
"Right. Bye."
Turning, Jennie quickly made her way to her car, the sky lightening to the first streaks of violet and grey wisps of clouds, and she climbed into her car, yellow light flooding through the dimness of the morning as the headlights cut through it. The tinted window lowered and she gave Rosie a small wave, which was returned from the doorway before the Audi's taillights disappeared down the driveway.
-
"And that was it? That's how you got back together again?" Nayeon asked, eyebrows raised with mild surprise.
With a snort of laughter, Rosie shook her head. "No. Not at all. As I said, we had some things we really needed to talk about. I was so sure that, if we could work things out, this time would work. I mean, we knew what the problem was, surely we could find a fix for it, right? But, as I said, three times is just asking for trouble."
"But it must've been worth the trouble for you to go back in the beginning."
"Oh, definitely!" Rosie laughed, "I think it'd be worth it every time. She's just- that's the kind of person Jennie is. She's beautiful, just such a beautiful, beautiful soul, and you can't help but love her. And that's exactly the problem because no matter what, I'll always come back to her. And I won't regret it for a single moment."
"Ever?"
"Never. She's the only person who has ever truly known me, and from the moment I met her I've never been able to shake the thought of her. I've never looked at anyone else, because, well, how could I? There's always been that sense of inevitability between us; it was always inevitable that we'd fall back together, and it was always inevitable that we'd fall apart. It's always been her, and I think it always will be."