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The thing is, I never realized Rose was never protecting herself when she used to keep things from me. She was protecting me. And I never truly grasped how much until the next word crosses her lips.
“No.”
It’s so short and simple. It’s straight to the point, no bullshit, no sugarcoating, and it puts a spike right through my heart. It’s the most Rose answer I’ve ever heard.
And do you know why it’s heartbreaking?
Because I know it’s true, just like I know the sky is blue.
“Why?” I ask. My hands are getting clammy from the anxiety pouring through my veins. Rose was never okay.
She wasn’t before I met. I was a Freshman and she was in eighth grade, when she and her twin moved to Stoneview. She wasn’t okay through all of high school, and she is not okay now. But she’s always put up a strong face, tough and confident, and that made it easy to pretend she was okay. It made it easy for me to believe it.
It’s easier on my conscience to think that Rose is an overconfident nymphomaniac with a bitchy personality and a god complex. I could let her use me. I could love her despite it all.
But she’s not like that. In fact, she’s not at all, and now I’m the one feeling her weaknesses and the need to cry by her side.
“Why?” I repeat when she doesn’t reply.
She looks confused, like it’s the last thing she thought she’d hear.
“That’s not what you should say when someone tells you they’re not fine.”
“What should I say?” I press her shoulders against the bed and climb her. I can’t help it. Straddling her waist is simply where I should be.
“People usually say ‘it’ll get better’,” she tells me in all honesty. I know she means it. Rose has been neglected her whole life. The children’s home, the caseworkers, the lawyers, the police. That’s likely what they all said to her.
“How am I meant to know it’ll get better if I don’t know what’s wrong?”
I laugh when her eyebrows furrow and she looks at me completely speechless. No one ever asked her what was wrong.
“That’s a good point,” she chuckles. Her hands land on my thighs and she kneads my flesh until her gaze lands on the tattoo again.
“Property of Rose White,” she reads. She probably can’t discern the letters, but she knows what’s written there anyway. “This tattoo turns me on, Sunshine,” she whispers in a low rasp.
“Does it?” I tease back. “Because being your property makes me soaking wet.”
I grab the hand on my thigh and bring it to my wet pussy. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to need her the way I do. I can only try to show her.
I press two of her fingers against my entrance and moan as they slide inside me easily.
“Fuck,” she gasps. I go on my knees as I bring my hand under me to tease her clit.
“Can you feel how much I love you?” I murmur as I keep her hand tight against my pussy while my other starts going in and out of her slowly.
“Yeah…” she moans as her eyes close, and her head falls back.
“Eyes on me, Doll,” I snap.
Her eyes snap open at the sound of her nickname. The one I only use when I control her wholly. The one that means I’m taking over, and she is mine to play with.
“I’m gonna fuck myself on your beautiful fingers, and then you’re going to lick me clean. Is that clear?”
She nods.
“Words.”
“Y-yeah,” she stutters with need.
