#jarrose

            What did I say? he thought, straining his memory in vain. His lips refused to work properly, his speech slurred as he muttered, “Rose… Rose…”

            “I’m sorry.” Her voice was hushed as she swept his hair off his face. “I had no idea you felt…”

            What did I say? His heart pounded and fear set in. They were prone to bickering, and his words were prone to causing tears, but was different. Whether it was the alcohol or not, he could not read her emotion. “’M sorry,” Jarrod managed to speak, pushing himself upright to face her.

            “Did you mean those things you said?”

            “I dun’ never wanna hurt you.” He took her hand in his, fingers tightly squeezing around hers. “I…”

            “I know that.” She placed her other hand on top of his, leaning closer. “I’m talking about…” She leaned closer, whispering the words he had said into his ear. Eyes widening, Jarrod found himself recalling all those emotions he felt hours ago.

            Whenever she acted recklessly, he felt a pang in his heart and anger towards her for being so… so… Much as he preferred to be alone, he had become accustomed to her presence. That cheerful voice always challenging his jaded assumptions of others. And even that night spent under the stars together. It all felt so right, like finding a puzzle piece that had been missing for so long. He knew the answer to her question, but he could not find his voice. His lips parted as he gazed into her, lost in those eyes which stared at him so sweetly.

            He smelled the alcohol on her breath as he rested one hand on the back of her head, auburn locks entwined between his fingers. Greedy, hungry lips pressed against hers. Her arms draped over his shoulders, reciprocating with equal fervor.

Two II The weight of a child strapped to his chest was embarrassing, at first. He could not help wondering just how ridiculous he looked as he walked alongside Rosalind, on his days off. But time has changed many things. Lil’ Lil, as he affectionately called her, seemed to only want to be carried like this by him, these days. Honestly, who even would pass up Rosalind like that? On one hand, he felt bad for his wife when their daughter chose to kick and scream when she even moved to hold her, but there was a small sense of pride in that someone other than Rosalind wanted to be with his that badly. And that was enough to give him the confidence to walk to work with a cool, casual demeanor.

            “I will stop by the store, after my classes are done,” she said. “Do you have everything?” She was nervous. He was nervous. It seemed like only yesterday when they saw children with their parents at the workplace.

            “Yeah. I let Rice know what’s up too; she knows she’ll be doin’ a little more today than usual.”

            “I will see you then,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. “I love you.”

            “Love you too.”

            It seemed that whether it was the first time, or the billionth time, a blush never failed to color her cheeks upon hearing those words. “And I love you, Lillian.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on the toddler’s forehead, prompting a giggle from Lillian. “Ah!” Another mischievous giggle.  “Lillian…”

            “C’mon, Lil,” Jarrod laughed, watching their child refusing to let go of her mother’s hair. “I know y’like Ma’s hair, but that ain’t how y’play with it.”  

Three II Winter’s chill invaded Jarrod’s home with only the crackling flames in the hearth staving off a more frigid bite. Rosalind sat behind Jarrod, the white coat of Moofah wool draped over her shoulders, as he stirred up an Affectionate Soup, a recipe he happened to know. When Rosalind returned from the Wycademy, she brought a bottle of Worcestershire Sauce that she insisted would spice up an already delicious dinner.

            “How much we ought t’ put in?” he asked.

            “The Bistro at the Wycademy just pours it for a second or so, I think,” Rosalind answered.

            “Ugh… typical. Can’t never get exact measurements for recipes like this can we?” he laughed, stirring in a little bit of the sauce with the soup. Taking the bowls from the nearby shelf, he removed the ladle from the pot, pouring some of the soup into each. Handing Rosalind her dinner, he sat down next to her. “Y’know, I could commission y’ yer own Moofah coat. The one fer ladies would look real nice on y’, I bet. An’ the wig’s real warm, I tell y’.”

            “I don’t need a new coat.”

            Jarrod turned away, nearly choking on the soup in embarrassment. Of course she would not need a new coat. She could commission one herself; hunters made plenty of zenny, after all.

            “I like wearing yours. It’s comfy and smells like the farm.”

            “Oh…” Jarrod’s cheeks turned red as he set down the bowl, unable to hold it steady.  “Th-then, perhaps, just the wig then.” He acted fast, not wanting to regret it later. Her lips were sweet against his. When he parted, it was hard for either to focus on eating dinner, wanting the other’s Affectionate Soup instead.

Four II “Two-hundred ninety nine, three hundred,” Jarrod threw down the last two bills onto the table, splaying his hands out. “We’re rich, Rose. Could buy a house with this, I reckon…” Presidential eyes watched him as he splayed his hands out onto the table. “Or a farm… or…”“How about we start with buying some new clothes,” Rosalind chuckled. “Jarrod, you’ve worn the same clothes since I’ve met you. We’re vagabonds now; we should look the part, don’t you think?” Jarrod lowered his eyes to the dirty overalls. There were holes over the knees and one of the straps looked ready to snap at any moment.  “We’re going to a big town, next, right? Let’s get go to the tailor, tomorrow.” “Y’mean have custom-made clothes?” It suddenly dawned on him that they could afford that. “Wow… that’s real temptin’, Rose. I had one more idea, though.”“And what may that be?” “Well…” Jarrod reached across the table, taking Rosalind’s hand in his. “Was thinkin’ o’ maybe buyin’…” He tilted his nose down, hiding the blush on his cheeks. “W-Well, was jus’ thinkin’ yer hand’d look really pretty with a diamond ring…” He felt courage swelling up within him, as he continued. He came this far, no point in turning back. “An’ maybe a weddin’—a small one, o’ course. We dun’ have t’ have one, but at least lemme get y’ a ri—“

“Yes!” Jarrod did not know whether Rosalind threw the table aside, or it fell over as she leaped across, wrapping her arms around him as he fell backwards, her lips pressing against him as petals of green fluttered down around them.

Five II “Don’t act so surprised, Jarrod.” Rosalind stood close to Jarrod, her fingers tightly gripping his. “I was very obvious about my feelings all these years.”            

 “I-I’m not surprised. A-At least, not by yer feelin’s… I feel the same way, but y’ could do better than—“            

 “Shh.” Her finger pressed to his lips, moving closer, smirking. “You’re going to compare yourself to those boys I had dated, aren’t you?”  She knew him so well, it was almost scary. “Why do you think I never asked anyone for a second date?”            

 “Jus’ thought y’ were havin’ trouble findin’ the right person.”              

“Well…” She moved closer, resting her hands on his chest. “You are not wrong. I just could not imagine myself…” Her pause caught Jarrod’s attention, drawing him close. A soft hand ran through the hair on the back of his head, pushing him towards her lips. Her eyes shut as a joyful warmth spread out from her chest.              

This was not their first kiss. It was still fresh in his mind, that lazy afternoon. Rosalind’s parents were both still at work, leaving the two middle-schooler’s home with Marie being the only other person in their house. What was the movie they were watching? He could not recall, nor could he remember what she had asked him exactly, but they had decided to kiss the other to see what it felt like. This was nothing like that time. No heart palpitations, no little sister to accidentally witness the act, and no awkwardness afterward. He held her shoulders, tilting his head into her kiss, mind emptied of all doubt and feeling save for the bliss of Rosalind against him.              

They now stood there in nothing save their smallclothes, their equipment neatly folded up with their weapons resting on top lying next to them. Looking out into the lake, the all trees surrounding them seemed only taller than they were before, as if they seemed to be bending over the glistening water to create a roof, but to no avail.

“It’s okay. Just hold my hand,” said Rosalind. Jarrod was like a scared dog as the water reached his waist; they were not stopping there. When the water reached his chest, he glanced back at the shore. “Jarrod…”

     This man had faced so many dangers alongside her. They faced the curse together, defeated monstrous foes, and left Drangleic unscathed. He faced everything with relative calm and a stoic face, but just the prospect of going this far into the water froze him from below the chest. When he stared into Rosalind’s eyes, his grip tightened around her hand.

     “Y’... y’really think I’ll grasp it?” he asked her.

     “It’s a cinch!” She winked, turning around fully to take Jarrod’s other hand in hers. “Try to lay flat on top of the water, alright?”

     Nodding, Jarrod gently lifted himself off the lake-floor, swinging his legs out behind him. 

     “Kick your feet a little.”

     Jarrod’s body rose and flattened out, and Rosalind could see the backs of his heels just below the water’s surface, kicking quickly, before splashing onto the surface.

     “Slow down a little, now.” She watched his movements, but quickly brought her eyes back to his. “Just keep looking at me. Gently… gently… There we go!” She tugged on his hands to unbend his arms, fully extending his body, and snuck a quick kiss upon his nose. “Keep that up.”

     If there was something Jarrod was good at, it was following the directions Rosalind gave him. His eyes remained on hers, unblinking, following her directions as she gave them. The kiss nearly had distracted him enough to forget he was supposed to keep kicking. Pursing his lips, the energy of his fluster transferred into a couple strong splashes from his feet. This prompted a giggle from Rosalind, and he could tell she was almost tempted to tease him again.

     “Now, I’m going to let go--”

     “W-What?” Jarrod’s voice cracked.

     “Spread the water like you would open a pair of doors,” she explained. “And keep kicking. You’re safe. You can still stand here.”

     He trusted her, and as he released his tight grip from her, he watched as she stepped back. Forgetting to move his arms accordingly, he began to sink, his eyes shutting tight as he was submerged. Water usually meant death for, in the past. Sinking and drowning, only to wake up next to a bonfire. Although he dared to not open his eyes, he could swear he heard fish and shrimp dining upon the plant life of the lake. It was oddly peaceful, and not so terrifying. Even in the darkness, he could feel himself moving. He envisioned where Rosalind was and remembered her instructions. Pushing the water behind him, he felt himself propelled further than just his legs alone. He could sense her just ahead, her muffled voice calling to him through the thick veil of water separating them. His feet touched the lakebed and his upper body emerged, water dripping off the contours of his face, and his hair stuck sticking to his skin, covering his eyes.

     “Jarrod…” Rosalind’s hands cupped her partner’s cheeks, one sliding up to brush his hair away. “You stopped kicking.” Her tone, while disappointed, was playful. “You had it.”

     “Ah…” Jarrod seemed so much younger, when he was flustered. His pinkened cheeks were warm under her hands. “Sorry. Wasn’ thinkin’, ‘bout that.”

     “Oh?” A raised eyebrow and inquisitive blue eyes leaned in closer, the tip of Rosalind’s nose just against his. “Just what were you thinking about, that let you sink like a rock?” It was the added pout, which teased the answer from him.

     “Yer kiss from earlier…” Jarrod muttered. “It distracted me.” In an act of playful vengeance, he bridged the gap between them with their lips. “We’re gonna try again, right?”