His Little Rose

023 | Black or White

"It doesn't matter if you're black or white."

//

Roseanne's P.O.V 

* * *

Ace pulls up to some fancy restaurant that he calls 'convenience food'. He told me the name of the place is Julian's. His uncle's best friend owns it.

Hands folded neatly with each other's we walk into the restaurant. The smell of fresh vegetables and cooked beef hits my nose. I stiffen the small moan that wants to slip out. It smells so good in here.

While I'm walking behind Ace, our hands still intertwined with him pulling me to a table, I hear no other customers. 

Why is it so empty? The food can't be that bad. Not the aroma I was smelling anyway. 

Ace chooses a booth for us to sit at, letting me scoot in first.

As soon as we're settled, I lay my questions on him.

"Why is no one else in the restaurant?" I ask. 

"I pulled a few strings." Ace stated. His response not skipping a beat like he knew I was going to ask. His answer being what I expected from him; the truth but not too revealing.

I let my fingers run across the edges of the table. It's a beautiful type of material, I've never felt before. 

"What was all that snapping commotion about at the club? Do you pay people at the club to do you favors? Or do regulars get special perks?" I asked, my index finger on my right hand tracing the edge of the table. 

There are some kind of symbols on this table. Either it's roman numerals or something written in a different language. 

"A curious one. Aren't I so lucky?" Ace exclaimed. I smile and lightly hit his arm, a chuckle falling out of his lips. 

Sweet baby, Jesus. That laugh is legendary.

"So curious." Ace says again.

A gasp slips past my lips as I feel his hand tracing a line up one of my arms. My eyes clenched shut and my cookie throbbing. 

"So pretty." Ace states. 

Letting his hand cup the top of my shoulder before it slowly goes back down my arm before disappearing. Almost like it was never there. 

This is your first official date with him. Keep it cute. 

I lick my lips and exhale through my nose. 

Calm your girl downstairs. It was just one touch, like how pathetic can my cookie be. Stop moistening yourself. I demand you be dry!

"I've noticed that we talk about me a whole bunch but I don't think we've talked about you that much." I stated, trying to fill the stale open air with words.

After my inquiry I feel the air get tenser than it was before. 

I suck at starting conversations.