Antilove

Trenta Quattro

CAPITOLO TRENTA QUATTRO

a nostalgic, midnight tryst

***

THE ROAD THAT THEY TRAVEL winds up at an all too familiar setting that stirs up a hidden emotion deep in the recesses of both Rose and Lucien's hearts. Rose had not forgotten their very first night together, dinner and stargazing, an intoxicated affair. Right now, it feels too far away for them to remember but remember they did, the beginning of their understanding of each other.

    Hand in hand like a secret, they creep past the iron gate. It gives a slow creak and they pause, a whisper on their lips. She fights the urge to giggle and almost loses her grip on the champagne bottle Lucien ordered his assistant to deliver to them.

    The night turns warm in their excitement and Rose marvels at the sight before her. Lucien had kept tight-lipped their entire ride and Rose didn't interrogate him further but she could have already guessed from the flights of stairs they climbed to reach their destination. It's a short building but it leaves her out of breath. The rooftop is on the sixth floor, a modest height but the view is undeterred by the landscape of Rome, which is void of towering skyscrapers.

    The splashing of water piques Rose's interest. "I didn't bring a change of clothes," she says and bends down to swirl her hand in the water. "Also, it's cold."

    "That's why there's also a jacuzzi here," Lucien replies. He is already unfastening his tie and the buttons of his dress shirt. "I've also told Jacob to bring towels and robes." He pins his gaze on Rose and raises an eyebrow. "You won't have to swim much it's a jacuzzi."

    Taking it as a challenge, she gets to undressing too. They leave their clothes in a neat pile on a lounge chair and Rose dips her foot in with hesitation. She slips in, wearing nothing but her undergarments, and looks over the edge of the building. The brisk night air chills the parts of her that are not submerged but it feels like nothing more than a distant reminder of coldness.

    Rose sighs and hears Lucien get in beside her. They bask in warmth that Rose was missing all night, all throughout dinner. Lucien keeps his distance, a feet or so away, but Rose wishes he didn't. A polite, courteous act of consideration that he maintains still, even in the absence of Lucifer's company. It's one of the many instances that solidifies Rose's understanding of faceted characters.

    Silence guides their little escape.

    In terms of physicality, Rose feels no different but a blanket of pressure has been lifted from her weary body. Time passes but she can only look forward.

    "Do you think I was foolish?" Rose asks Lucien. "Jumping into agreement and signing the contract without even an hour of contemplation?" In her eyes is a pleading Lucien has only seen in her most delirious state—he finds her vulnerability inviting but it's gated behind two sharp fangs.

    His hand emerges from the water, drops of crystalline tears falling from his fingertips and he tucks stray strands of hair behind her ear.

    "If anything, I'm the fool."

    Rose is too afraid to turn her head to the side, for fear of what expression Lucien might don on his face. "How so?" she whispers against her forearm.

    There is no answer to be given, only a deep feeling that in all his years of living, Lucien cannot form into tangible words. Instead, his hand trails down to her neck and traces her spine, inducing a shiver. Rose finally spares him a glance and sees that his eyes are fixated on his own hands and the undoing of Rose's hair.