every thorn

       For a moment, it’s all she can do to stare. Her expression betrays no pain, no curiosity, no disbelief of any kind, even as her mind worked itself into a chaotic roar. How he feels— the words alone made her feel ill. She had wondered, endlessly, but could never bring herself to imagine what his answer might be. It had been the subject of nightmares, daydreams, and one she purposefully avoided. 

        Jaune. Wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. The words hang in the air like a weight about to fall, a wire pulled to the point of snapping.  

        She laughs. A bright, musical sound, loud and floating– unabashed. Her head lolls, looking at Rosa with spring-touched eyes. “Don’t be absurd. That’s impossible– he’s just indebted, is all. Gratitude is a big thing with him.” A beat. “Ah. If that was payback, you should know that I meant– you don’t have to worry about hiding it from me. I’ve done… similar, ish, things.”

   ❛ You’re not wrong. ❜ In between her honest words of vague self-incrimination, and her ability to see the a part of what made Jaune exceptional, there was a visible increase in comfort as her shoulders nimbly, and gently fell. ❛ Jaune would...he would rather die than leave a debt unpaid, or a - ❜ Throughout her time of talking, she continuously felt like she was speaking out of place, in a place that she ought not part her lips. Yet, she carried on, fearlessly. Or, perhaps, blindly. As Jaune might. ❛ - a burned bridge in disrepair, even. ❜

  ❛ ...I’m sure you’ve probably heard him talk about them, with a fire in his eyes. ❜ The brief moment of comfort began to disperse, however, as she began to tread into dangerous territory. Her unease was underlined, and italicized by the way she began searching for things to fiddle with throughout Taeyeon’s office. ❛ You know, his convictions. Those things he holds on to for dear life, his most important treasure. His greatest tool in surviving me, most likely. ❜ She stopped a moment, observing an empty vase, catching her breath and her own train of thought. 

   ❛ I understand why you might not be able to see what he feels, in his actions. There’s a thin line between the honorable man who hosts a passion for recompense, and the foolish lover who would stop at nothing to follow their heart. ❜ For better, or for worse, Rosa had evolved to be equipped against such a cipher. She turned away from the vase to face Taeyeon with a confidence and motivation fueled through years of guilt, regret, and false love. ❛ There is a way to tell them apart, though. A sign of honest love. ❜

  ❛ You can measure a person’s love by how much they are willing to sacrifice. ❜ Jaune was certainly passionate about repaying his debts, and might even die for them. However, the question remained: would he sacrifice what he held most dear? Rosa knew this answer, and she hoped that Taeyeon might, as well. ❛ Jaune was willing to sacrifice his boundless future for me, when he proposed. We were still so young... ❜ And I threw it away. ❛ ...but I felt it was real. ❜ And now I know just how real it was. 

   ❛ For you -- ❜ How did she tell her? How could Rosa speak the cloaked truth, when Jaune had expressed his desire for privacy? Was this another betrayal? No, no. This is for him. Despite such a mantra, she continued to let silence hang her words. She felt she had no right, sticking her nose in like this. Maybe Jaune would come to hate her again - maybe. Breaking his trust a second time? Disgraceful. Her fists clenched, and released, expressing the tug-of-war taking place. She had tried to rush into this blindly, with no regard of her consequences. Just like always. It was decided soon enough, though: she could not be the one to tell her. Just as well, however, she could hardly leave her words frozen in mid air. ❛ For you...he sacrificed his greatest treasure. ❜    It was harsh. Again, guilt spread through her chest, speaking such words. He sacrificed, for you. It almost sounded like a crime, the way it came out of her mouth. And the resentment, oh the resentment was there. But there were no bitter feelings towards the woman before her. No, it was a disdain for herself, and her own actions that led to this place. If she had just taken his hand, he may have never been brought to this point. 

   Her hands were visibly shaking, now. ❛ Listen. I don’t - I don’t know you. ❜ With a deep breath, though, she restored her steadiness. ❛ But if you’re telling me you’ve made mistakes like my own, whatever you might know of them... ❜ Her jaw was set, and her brows firmly defiant. ❛ ...then tell me you’ve learned from them too. And if you haven’t, then please, learn from this woman’s tragic failure. ❜ 

   ❛ See him, and recognize just how much he loves you. If you don’t believe me, then talk to him. Please, talk to him. ❜

❛  Please, talk to him. I can’t be there for him the way you can, anymore. ❜                         ❛   And I don’t want him to be alone -  ❜

        “That the mysterious bedside Rosa is the same Rosa that conned him and broke his heart? No. But I would’ve been insulted if he had. Why?”

   She would have taken simple curiosity, without the unnecessary stance she had taken at her question. Note to self, don’t let her guess in the future. Ultimately, she felt a nibbling in her heart, influencing her to just keep her own mouth shut tightly. But, it was for selfish, petty reasons. Rosa had not journeyed so far, simply to fallow in old habits. 

         “When I was six, I very firmly believed that chicken nuggets where sentient beings, and refused to eat them. In fact, I actively despised seeing them, and petitioned my father to sponsor a new charity that would function as a relief fund for nuggets in need. He politely refused my proposal, and ever since then I’ve felt nearly compelled to bring it to him again, at least once a year. Hence why Jaune rushed off with that folder.”

@stigmacon // starter call.

   ❛ Doesn’t he realize how silly that sounds? ❜ Rosa searched the ceiling, as if the key to making sense of the nonsense rested there. ❛ You have Jaune running around like a chicken, so that you can keep up your pranks? ❜

        Head tilts, shifting to better observe the other. She was pretty, if melancholic, holding herself with such an air of shame by her bedside. It was odd, to wake up with a stranger sitting vigil at her bedside with no recollection of the woman herself, and yet she could scarcely bring herself to question it. Drastic events brought new people at strange times, and the fact of the matter was, she certainly couldn’t be bothered to ask her to leave. 

        “I’m sorry. I remember you– a bit. But I can’t seem to remember your name.”

        A sigh of relief, accented by a sharp inhale, is all she has to offer by way of reaction. She hadn’t even thought of Scully– it would take much more than a .45 to do anything to him, regardless. Jaune, on the other hand. Her gaze drifts to rest on the sleeping form, perhaps softer than it might have been in her more cognizant moments. Pianist’s fingers reach to graze the back of his hands, a tender brush that lingers, shameless in her attempts to reaffirm reality.  

         “Are you? Injured, I mean. You look– mm. Something. Vreselijk geestlijk.”

         “Such accusations are hardly befitting from strangers. I could be a masochist– it’s impossible to tell with people.” Her response, calm and languid, sounds against the tiled floor with a strength unexpected from a woman under the influence of anesthesia and a major emergency surgery. Perhaps the searing pain that shot up her spine and spread through her abdomen did something to cut through the haze, try as she might to remain pleasantly numb. Cool green eyes– sharp, dangerous– lingers on the woman for a brief moment, silently assessing, before fluttering closed.

            “Is Jaune injured? Is anyone else?”

   ❛ You’re awake a lot sooner than they said you would be... ❜ Her voice carried a practiced tenderness, hardly louder than the whirring of the machines checking the bed-ridden’s vitals. Rosa was impressed by the tenacity, and also by the peaceful expression the other woman seemed to wear during her many hours of rest. ❛ ...well, the big man, and Jaune figured you’d be back at it soon enough. Something about you having probably been through worse. ❜

{ 🌹 } ||      “Why, aren’t you intimidating!”

  Despite initiating this particular teasing, her rebuttal still struck him in the heart. ❛ Then…I guess you’d better think about it in the bath! ❜ Still new to such intimacy, Jaune had finally reached his limit for the time being and began to guide her to the bathtub once she was completely stripped. Though it was a mere few feet to travel, Jaune’s heart was ready to jump out as she continued to stare into his soul.

  ❛ Oooh no. I’m not telling you. ❜ Jaune’s signature tone of mischief was pitched in his voice as he opened the door to a candle-lit bathroom. The scent was of a soft, and faint lavender, and the water had already been warmed to perfection. ❛ You know, ❜ turning to look Rosa in the eyes, and pulling her closer by her hands, he mused with an innocent smirk ❛ they say a nice bath can stimulate the brain, so maybe this will help you figure it out… ❜

   ❛ Roses! For my rose! ❜ Practically hopping towards his partner, Jaune took her umbrella and guided her by the hand. ❛ It may look a little more red, and dim, but it’s still our home. Don’t be shy! ❜ For a moment, Jaune felt a small resistance from her, but once he made eye contact with her, Rosa caught his enthusiasm  and seemed to lose that hesitation.