I can't count how many times I almost fall over or knock a hand or my leg on something as I hurry to get changed.
Somehow, even though my jeans are only around my ankles, I can't seem to pull them up and when I do, they bunch up in all the wrong places or the belt doesn't do up and so with intense frustration, I have to start the whole routine again. Rosé seems to be having the same problem, but hers is with her shirt since apparently the head hole is the arm hole but the arm hole fits her head... and basically, there's a whole lot of crazy and panicked in this room.
It's not like before, back when I had to climb down the damn fire escape and face Rosé's crazy neighbor Chaerin Lee because Jisoo totally knows about me and Rosé, but I just know that she won't appreciate me and Rosé fucking on the floor of her brand new apartment, let alone her fucking bedroom. Hence the rushing of getting redressed.
"Lisa! Rosé! Are you guys finished yet?"
I know Jisoo's getting closer and closer, and I can hear the small padding of lighter footsteps which means Stella's with her. Suddenly, I'm thanking the heavens Rosé and I stopped when we did otherwise we could've scarred that poor child for life.
Once both of us are mostly dressed, and after we panic, knowing the room smells like sweaty sex, I grab Rosé by the arm and rip open the bedroom door, stumbling outside with Rosé behind me. The door slams shut and I stand up rigid, back as straight as a pole as I realize Jisoo's standing at the other end of the hallway glaring through narrowed eyes, but Rosé stays completely unaware as she bumps into my side, hands gripping my bicep and hip to steady herself.
And I know that it is exactly what it looks like, that I'm not going to be able to get away with it because Jisoo's still eying both of us and I don't need to look in a mirror to know our appearance just oozes the 'just-had-sex' look. But still, I act nonchalant and clear my throat, patting down my hair subtly as I glance at Jisoo.
"Uh... hey, Chu."
Hazel eyes linger on me for a while before flicking to Rosé and then straight back again, and I watch them narrow as she takes in both mine and Rosé's appearance a few times over.
Yep, she totally knows.
Oops.
"Ladies!" A voice flows through the hall and I lean a little to the left, peering around Jisoo to find Jaehyun wandering in, Stella by his side, head ducked to her chest as she plays with some type of fluffy toy. I don't really know why he's here. I'm sure Jisoo said something about Haein... "What needs to be unpacked and decora—whoa," he suddenly stops, coming to stand beside the short-haired blonde. "What have you two been up to?" He quirks, eyebrows lifting as he drinks in creased clothing, smudged make-up and messy hair.
My eyes drop to the floor, but I feel no shame or embarrassment, even though I feel I should. Rosé just shifts beside me, clasping her hands in front of her and dipping her head, Jaehyun and Jisoo both stay silent as they await my answer. Except I think they already know I'm not going to just come out with it, so I just suck in my lips and wait.
I feel like I'm in third grade again, about to be told off by the principal.
"Jaehyun," Jisoo suddenly pipes up, her voice flat and hard. I look up to find her staring. Staring good and hard. "Take Stella out for ice cream."
Jaehyun's face scrunches up with confusion, his head turning to look at the smaller woman. "But we just went out with Haein for ice—"
"Just go."
It's said in such a sharp voice that even I jerk my head back and Rosé raises her eyebrows, shocked by Jisoo's voice. It's not exactly often that Jisoo's so hard, so short, and okay, maybe she's as much of a bitch as I am, but since her and Haein started getting back on track, she hasn't been half as bad. This is probably the worst I've seen and heard her in at least six months, and I know it's because of me and Rosé.
Even though I'm an adult and Rosé and I can do whatever the hell we want. So frankly, Jisoo can kindly go and fuck herself if she thinks she has any say in Rosé and I's relationship.
"Okay..." Jaehyun drags out, slowly backing away toward Stella who's now sitting cross-legged on the floor. "We'll be back in half an hour!" He yells as he holds Stella's hand and pulls her out the door, whispering something about sprinkles and strawberry sauce.
***
When the front door slams shut, I'm not expecting Jisoo to start yelling at us.
Hell, I don't even know why she's yelling but here she is, face reddening, pointer finger out and thrusting here, there and everywhere as she paces back and forth, shouting.
"...And you two are so frustrating!" She starts, taking steps up and down the hallway. "You are ridiculous, and you think that having sex—" Her head whips around, angered hazel eyes glaring at me and Rosé. "Is going to fucking help. It's not going to, it'll just take you two back to how you started off and none of us want that. God! It's stupid!" She spins on her heel and begins the walk away, her footsteps a little heavier and harder, but then she stops, twirls around and stares at us, her hands coming up to either side of her head. "You two are both stupid!"
I feel Rosé physically wince next to me, and up until then I was totally on board with Jisoo yelling at us because she actually had a point. I already knew that Rosé and I having sex wasn't exactly going to help, but it just kept happening. We two are just drawn to each other, emotionally and physically, and we've got a real issue with talking about feelings and so I guess we've subconsciously been focusing on the physical part.
And also, Rosé's fucking hot. She's cute, sexy, beautiful, seductive, all wrapped into one, and it's a real fucking turn on. I can't help it if I can't keep my hands off her.
Still, feeling Rosé wince next to me, listening to Jisoo call Rosé stupid in spite of knowing how much Rosé hates it, it just makes me snap.
"Shut your fucking mouth, Kim," I spit, taking a step forward. Jisoo stops in her tracks, eyebrows lifting but I can tell she's not all that shocked. "Don't you dare call Rosé that. She isn't stupid, she never has been, and you're," I thrust my finger toward her, pointing sharply. "Not in this fucking relationship," I point back to myself and Rosé. "So don't start talking shit and pretending like you know anything about what's going on between me and Rosé."
The corners of Jisoo's lips curve up into the smallest of smirks, and it makes the fire burn hotter inside of me.
"What? Because you do know what's going on between you two?" She fires back and my mouth drops, ready to argue but I'm suddenly finding myself stumped. She has a point. "You don't have a clue," she ducks her head in a demeaning manner and bobs it, trying to get me to understand. I just clench my jaw, refusing to show weakness; especially seeing as Rosé's beside me. "Neither do you, Rosie," she glances to Rosé. "Neither of you know, and you said that I'm not in this 'relationship,'" she finger quotes the word, vision flitting back to me. "But neither are either of you."
I find myself faltering at the sudden softness in her tone, and how Jisoo slumps her shoulders like she's fed up of me and Rosé not talking about what we two are, or where it's heading. And I totally get that. I feel the same way, but I didn't realize it was affecting others around me, too.
Jisoo suddenly comes marching toward me, much to my surprise, and I feel her latch onto my t-shirt and push me forcefully back into her bedroom. I stumble a little, but catch myself and spin around just in time to watch Rosé stumbling in, too, and in time for me to glare fiercely at Jisoo for laying a hand on me because that shit just doesn't sit well with Lisa fucking Manoban. Nobody touches me without my permission, and Jisoo's fucking lucky she was caught off guard otherwise she'd have to learn how to drive with one hand. Bitch.
"So you two," the smaller woman starts up again, standing by the doorway with her hand on the door knob. "Are going to finally talk about what's going on, whether you like it or not," she finishes by cocking her head to the smile, smirking and pulling the door shut.
I don't know what she means, but when I hear the sound of a lock clicking only seconds, I realize what she's done and sprint toward the door. I try to twist the handle, try to yank open the door but I know she's locked it. My fists are hammering against the panels of the door before I know it as I yell my friend's name. Well, as much of a friend as she is now.
"Jisoo! Open the fucking door!"
"No, Lisa," I hear muffled from behind the door, and I halt my pounding fist for two seconds as I listen to her words. "You two are going to sort this out, and I'm not letting you out until you do."
It's not like I don't want to talk to Rosé, but I don't like that I'm being forced into it.
It's making me not want to do it, and shit, I don't want to go into—quite possibly—one of the biggest conversations of my life with anger in my veins. Even when I'm in a pretty regular mood, when I have a serious conversation I seem to come out with things I don't mean, whether they're harsh or not; so I definitely don't want to discuss mine and Rosé's future while I'm pissed at Jisoo for forcing me to have it because it might lead me to say a number of things I don't mean. That's just how I roll.
So with that in mind, I just carry on slamming my curled hand against the door, yelling for Jisoo to open the fucking thing.
***
I do that for fifteen minutes.
By the end of it, my hand is aching like a bitch, Jisoo still hasn't opened the door and my throat feels all scratchy and hoarse from the shouting and cursing.
But the one thing, above all that, that I notice, is that Rosé hasn't spoken since I was shoved in here with her.
When I first turn around and find her sitting on the floor, legs crossed and hands toying with something between her fingers, I question why she hasn't been doing the same thing I have and tried to get out the door. Or even looked out the window like I did on the seventh minute of protesting being locked in this room, only to find that there was no fire escape (which is probably illegal) so I really don't have any way of getting out.
But then the second thing I feel is guilt. Heavy guilt panging through my chest like someone just plucked a string, because it slowly sinks in that maybe she wanted to get locked in here with me, purely for the fact that I would've had to speak. Yet here I am, pounding my fist against the door, trying to get out and probably conveying that I didn't want to talk at all.
I really am a fucking idiot.
So gingerly, I bring my hand down from the door and let it hang weakly by my side as I make my way over to Rosé. I stand over her for a second, just staring down, but she doesn't look up and I kind of hate myself a little for that. Because after everything, after all we're talking about not going further until we had a conversation, until I read a journal, when I was finally faced with the chance to finally figure out what the hell's going on, I wanted to get away at a chance I was given to talk to her.
How the hell do I think I've made her feel now? God.
"Rosie," I whisper, my voice breaking.
She doesn't make a move to respond or even look at me, and my face falters a little, eyebrows twitching and lip trembling. I don't want her to be mad at me.
"Rosé... I'm sorry."
This causes a reaction, but it's only a long, heavy sigh and a light tilt of her head, eyes barely flickering up to me.
"I found your necklace," she says and it's so not what I thought she was going to say that I have to take a few seconds to go back over it in my mind.
"You... you found my necklace?" I slowly repeat, almost testing the words on my tongue.
She sucks her lips into her mouth and bobs her head, beckoning me down with a slight wave of her hand. I obey and lower myself onto the ground next to her, figuring she can't be too mad at me if she's asking me to sit next to her. I cross my legs once I'm on the floor and swallow, waiting for her to continue, my hands twitching with the need to reach out and touch her; even if it just means setting a hand on her knee. But I restrain.
"When I was at your place... back when we... when I... when I returned," she starts, a little shakily, her hands still toying with the object in her hands which I now realize is shiny and silver.
It's my necklace.
The one I purposely broke, back when I was angry... and bitter. Back when I was missing her so much it felt like I couldn't breathe.
And I freeze a little, unsure of how to react because even though she doesn't know I broke it on purpose, I know she's perceptive. I know she knows me and I also know by the way she glances at me, a sad softness floating behind her eyes, that she understands why I might have done it on purpose.
"I—I... I found it," she continues, her voice steadying as she lifts her gaze to meet mine. "I know you broke it on purpose."
My face drops at her words. How the hell does she know that?
"What?"
Her eyes dart off away from me, and I know I've disappointed her again by trying to lie but it was my initial reaction. I didn't, and don't, want her to know that I broke my necklace because I was lonely. That I broke it because I was broken, and bitter, and hurting because she left me. It's not an excuse, and I regret breaking it and did about five seconds after realizing I broke it.
"Lisa," she starts again, her voice soft and low. Her eyes flicker back to mine and she sucks in her lips, swallowing thickly before she speaks. "I understand why you did it."
I open my mouth to explain, to blurt out anything that might make me feel less guilty for breaking something that was so precious to me, something that is still precious to me, but Rosé cuts me off with a simple look. One that says that she really does understand, and I do momentarily wonder whether she broke the bracelet she gave me, but when my eyes flit down to her wrist, I see the silver chain wrapped around her pale skin and breathe out a sigh of relief, realizing how happy I am that she didn't break it and still wears it.
Shit. I freeze at my own thoughts.
Now I know how she feels.
"Rosie, I'm sor—"
"I know," she interjects, shaking her head a little, a sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I understand," she sets a hand over my knee and looks at me through an intense stare. She wets her lips and takes in a deep breath. "I know you were hurt, and I know when you feel like that, you do things you don't mean — which is why I'm not angry."
My head tilts to the side, a crease forming between my brows as they come together. "You're not angry?"
"No," she replies, her lips twitching. "I'm not angry, because it just shows that even when things are broken," she lifts her spare hand, the one that isn't on my knee, and holds it open, offering me the necklace that I now realize is fixed. "They can be fixed," she says, eyes moving to the piece of jewelery for a few seconds before they switch back to me again. "They can be put back together."
I'm confused at first, but after repeating her words over in my mind I get what she means and I find myself letting out a small burst of laughter. Because I honestly don't get how people can call Rosé stupid, or think she's 'simple' because really, she's a genius. She's so smart, so so clever, and okay, maybe she's using a metaphor for the necklace when really she's talking about our relationship, but I would've never thought of that. I'm sure no-one apart from her would have thought of that, of turning one thing into another, of approaching two subjects with one path, but she did it.
God. She's just so incredible I still to do this day don't know how I got so lucky.
Still though, there's that part of me—that still-recovering part that finds a hard time trusting people, trusting Rosé—that makes me look at the necklace, at the segment I broke, and brings a flurry of thoughts to my mind. And honestly, I get what she's saying; I know that she's telling me that despite the frailty of our relationship, that it can be fixed, but I already knew that. I already knew we could be together, but it's the getting over the pain I once endured that's going to be tough.
Because how am I supposed to trust her when she just up and left for an entire year?
How am I supposed to give myself to her entirely when there's nothing stopping her from leaving again?
How am I supposed to love her when there's still a part of me that's scared to?
I don't know, but I guess by the way she's gazing at me that she does.
"Just because you fix it, doesn't mean it's not still weak and it doesn't mean it won't break again," I whisper, unable to hold it in. I lower my head, chin to my chest, and feel a wave of sadness wash over md.
I don't want to be negative about this.
I don't want to believe that Rosé and I won't end up together, but I also didn't want to believe that she'd leave me and she did.
For all I know, anything's possible with Rosé.
And it's killing me.
"Not if you use a stronger piece," she replies with utter certainty and it makes me pick my head up again to glance at her. I wasel all for talking in metaphors but now I want to cut the crap and just know what she's saying.
"Rosie, can we just stop talking in metaphors now?" I ask, squeezing my eyes shut and reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose. "I just wanna know what you're saying," I say, and I know it comes out in a way that shows I'm tired but honestly, I am.
I'm so tired of pretending like I'm not in love with her. I'm so tired of avoiding the relationship talk. I'm so tired of all the freaking drama and I just want it over and done with.
I just want Rosé to be mine, even if it takes a bit more hard work and perseverance to get there.
She lets out a heavy breath and squeezes my knee, her body scooting closer on the floor until she's right there in front of me, basically on my damn lap, staring at me through the brownest eyes I've ever seen. Through the only eyes I've ever fallen in love with.
"I'm saying I don't think we should start where we left off," she says and a shot of panic shoots through me at the same time my stomach tightens. She must sense it though because she shifts even closer, throwing a leg over mine until she's actually in my lap, moving her hand from my knee to my cheek where she cups it to keep my eyes on her. "I'm saying I think we should start from scratch and do everything again."
It's not quite what I was expecting, but it doesn't catch me off guard.
"Like a clean slate?" I respond almost immediately, narrowing my eyes.
She nods. "Like a clean slate," she confirms and I can tell my lack of reaction is making her nervous by the way she's chewing on her bottom lip. "We can just put everything behind us and start fresh," she suggests.
And honestly, I hadn't even thought of that; but now she's saying it, I can't think of anything better. It's everything I wanted and everything I never knew I did. It means if I start new with Rosé, I get to do everything properly. I get to do all the things I promised myself she would if she were to ever come back to me.
It means I get to take her on dates, to get nervous and wonder when I should kiss her.
It means I get to hesitate when I'm eating dinner at some fancy restaurant because I'm unsure of whether I can just reach across and take her hands.
It means I can go through the stages like a normal couple; I get to talk, to listen, to laugh and to flirt.
It means I get to do everything right, and fall in love with her all over again, even though I never fell out of love with her.
And it gets me so excited, that I find myself nodding and smiling at the idea without even realizing I am.
Rosé laughs a little, and her thumb strokes across my cheek as she goes to pull it away but I hold my hand against the back of hers to keep it there.
"Yeah," I breathe out, my smile growing across my face. "Yeah, Rosie... let's—let's do it."
Her eyebrows lift, but I know she's not surprised. "Yeah?" She questions and I bob mu head quickly, making her chuckle again. "Awesome," she gets out, her face splitting into the biggest grin and my eyes meet hers, locking as me take this moment in.
Because this moment is a new start for us.
This moment is a brand new beginning that when I'm old and gray, with Rosé sitting beside me in a matching rocking chair on the porch of my house as I watch my grandchildren run around the front yard, I can look back upon and smile. This is one of the moments that I know I'm not going to forget, and I take everything in, the way she's smiling at me, the way her eyes are sparkling and the way she's looking at me like I'm the best thing in the world, because I just want to treasure it.
It's a moment to remember. To relish.
"Lisa?"
I blink myself out the daze, raising my eyes from her lips—when did that happen?—and she's beaming at me, all bright and smiles. "Yeah?"
"Can I kiss you?" She asks and I can't help but let out a short laugh through my nose as I ignore my heart leaping against my ribcage, because she should already know she can kiss me whenever she wants. Yet I still duck my chin to my chest, feeling blood rush to my face because even now, the idea, the proposition of Rosé kissing me gets me all hot under the collar. It's ridiculous, but I guess that this is what love feels like.
"You don't have to ask," I murmur, glancing up through my eyelashes. I feel a little shy saying this. "You can always kiss me."
Her entire face lights up, but I lift my shoulder, glancing away as if that'll hide the heat flooding to my face and she leans forward. My heart damn near leaps out my chest as I look back at her, look at her lips, but she just continues coming toward me, her eyes holding mine. She's so confident in every aspect, and usually I'm not too bad myself, but she makes me feel like a bunch of nerves and I just pale in comparison.
I take a second to close my eyes as she gets closer, to breathe her in and remember how this feels because this is the start of a new beginning. I take a second because I want to remember everything about right now, about the way her hand is warm, resting on my collarbone; about the way I can smell vanilla wafting up from her skin and how I'm breathing in a cycle with her, her in and me out. I remember it all, even down to the way my stomach feels like it's flipping inside my body and how it feels like nothing else exists, and I swear there's nothing better than I'm being here, right now, with Rosé.
I don't ever want to be without her.
Though it must be quite obvious what I'm doing because only moments later, I hear a light, breathy chuckle and open my eyes to find bright brown sparkling back at me. The breath I take catches in my throat and my heart skips a beat, and I actually get so caught up with the way she's looking at me, so softly, so in love, that I completely forget that she was going to kiss me.
But then her thumb strokes over the hollow of my throat and she asks, "Are you sure?" with a hesitant look on her face.
I smile warmly at her, my hand coming up to her chin to tip it down as I nod.
"I've never been more sure of anything," I whisper, and smile into the kiss she gives me as we both take in the double-meaning of my words.
***
Rosé and I take things steady for a few weeks.
I kiss her, and she kisses me, but we never make out. We hug, but never cuddle. We touch, but nothing beneath the waist and beneath shirts and definitely no sex.
It's difficult—like, really fucking difficult—to control myself around her, and it's a little confusing, too, but it's good. Because we were planning on a clean slate, to start from scratch, and I know I'm already pushing the boundaries by kissing her because we haven't even gone on our first date yet and I'm pretty sure first kisses are supposed to happen then, but she's just too damn hard to resist with her bright smiles, her beaming eyes and her adoring glances.
And I guess I must be a little hard to resist for her, too, because when I'm not kissing her, she's holding my face between her hands and pressing her lips against mine, so I guess I can just let this little slip up go..l
(I was probably a little naïve to believe that I could actually start over completely with Rosé anyway. I was never able to keep my hands off her — not even when we were 'just friends' and had never slept together.)
But anyway, things between me and Rosé are well, a little weird as I don't really know where we stand or what is really going on or who's supposed to ask who out on a first date, but they're good so I don't question it.
I'm just happy that things are comfortable and that I get to kiss her.
Though I do wish I could call her mine.
***
I just about to head into work to check my rota for this week when i get a text from Jisoo. I take my phone out from my pocket and swipe my thumb over the screen to reveal the text, but stop short, right in the middle of the sidewalk when I see what my friend's said. Someone curses at me, bumping into my shoulder at the sudden halting of my movement, but I'm not really in a mindset to give a shit because of fucking Jisoo.
I need to take Rosé out on a date.
It's a little out of the blue to say the least, and I read it over at least four times before I decide that I've had enough of her meddling in my damn life and step over toward the nearest building, out the way of other people as I dial her number.
She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"
"You gotta butt out of my business," I say in lieu of a greeting.
Jisoo scoffs. "Oh don't get your panties in a twist, Manoban; I'm only saying you need to take Rosé out on a date—"
"No, Chu," I cut her off, not wanting to listen to her shit. She already locked me in a damn room with Rosé, and okay, maybe that did help but she shouldn't have done that. I'm still pissed at her for that. "You can't tell me what to do and when I should take Rosé out for a date or not. I'm waiting until—"
"Yeah, yeah," Jisoo interjects, her tone conveying that she doesn't give a crap about what I was about to say. "I know, you're waiting until you're ready and emotionally stable and all that crap, but Jennie, Jaehyun and I are throwing Rosé a welcome back party, so you gotta get her out the apartment for a while."
"She came back four weeks ago," I point out, scrunching my face in confusion. "There's no point in throwing one now."
I almost hear Jisoo rolling her eyes down the line.
"That's part of the surprise, Lisa," she tells me. "She won't expect it. So take her out to dinner, or go to a movie, or do whatever for a few hours so we can set up and then come back and act all surprised and shit." I open my mouth to argue but Jisoo speaks again. "I know you don't think you're ready, but the sexual tension between you two is unreal and has been for the past three weeks you two have done whatever the hell you two have been doing, and so if you can not sleep with her, you're ready to date her."
I think the comment is a little random until I begin thinking about all those times Rosé and I have been sharing seductive and sultry looks, mixed in with how many times we ended up kissing on the couch, wishing I could just push my tongue into her mouth and push my hand up her shirt, and suddenly it doesn't seem so random.
I know it's been three weeks that Rosé and I have taken it steady, and despite it being a little confusion, like I said, it's been nice, but it's also been fucking torture for me and my needs. Sure, my left hand has been my best friend, but as Rosé's stayed a little longer than originally planned—thanks to a mix-up at her bank and what-not—and has been in the next freaking room while I was... servicing myself, it'd been more than distracting and so fucking tempting not to just sprint into her room, show her how I feel and just get down and dirty and relieve some of the tension building at the pit of my stomach.
But anyway, as I know that I'm more than ready to sleep with Rosé and yet I haven't been, I kind of guess that means I am ready to date her.
I have self-control, and I've matured a lot, and I find myself daydreaming about what it'd be like to take her on a proper date instead of daydreaming about... well, other stuff.
And okay, I know that doesn't really make sense, but it also kind of does, or there's some logic lingering within my thoughts so I'm just going to take it as it comes and just do it.
"Okay," I breathe out, and when I hear Jisoo down the line I remember I was on the phone to her and clear my throat. "Uh, I mean... sure, I'll do it."
"Take your fucking time, Manoban," my friend retorts and I chuckle a little, rolling your eyes. "And get to it. We can't have her being suspicious and you gotta make you and Rosé official at some point."
I know she's trying to help me, but it's still pretty damn irritating. Instead of biting the bait though, I just agree and say my goodbye to her before I hang up the phone.
But that's when it hits me.
I’m going on a date with Rosé.
Damn.