Rosie White, an Art History student working to achieve her life goal of becoming a sought-after local artist. She pours her heart and soul into her art and dreams of falling in love. After Rosie lost her grandma, and with no parents in sight, she se...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When Rosie stormed out on me, relaying all that bullshit about control and being mine. I wanted to flip my desk, scream, and kiss her so deeply until she realised that she is mine. That I will never let another man love on her the way I do.
I sat at my desk for hours, staring into nothing. Thinking about this shitshow, it wasn't until my phone buzzed with Milly's number that I snapped out of my daze.
At first, I had no idea who 'Milly' was, then once my brain caught up, I remembered exchanging numbers at the hospital when Rosie was unwell.
As soon as I did, my heart sank. Why would she be calling me at this hour?
I hadn't even got the phone to my ear, but I could hear Milly talking as fast as she could. The only words I could process were, 'Rosie,' 'attacked,' 'apartment,' before I ran down to my car and drove over to their place.
I had no idea what happened, but when I saw Rosie, my Rosie, lying on the floor, bruised and battered, I felt the same twinge in my gut that I felt last week when I found her on the floor of the basement.
I swear to God I'm never letting this girl out of my sight ever again.
The rage I felt earlier was nothing compared to the rage I felt after seeing the bruises already developing along her hairline and cheek. She was holding her arm awkwardly and blood was dripping down her legs from the scrapes on her knees.
I walk with her still in my arms along the corridor and move into one of the spare bedrooms. Settling her gently onto the bed. I glance back at Milly as she walks in behind me.
"Help her get changed, I'll get some ice and a first aid kit."
Milly nods before moving towards Rosie.
I stride to the kitchen and grab the ice try, emptying it into some clean tea towels I wrap them up and grab the first aid kit out of the cupboard.
I knock at the spare room door and wait a few moments before it opens.
Rosie is sitting on the bed, upright and alert. Thank God. She's in what I assume is pyjamas and her hair has been pulled back into a messy bun.
"Milly the room opposite is the other spare bedroom, unless you want to sleep in here," I speak, moving towards Rosie and kneeling down in front of her.
"I'll be alright Mills, go get some sleep." Rosie speaks, her first words in a while.
"Are you sure?" She replies, looking between me and Rosie.
"I promise Mills, get some sleep I'll talk to you in the morning," Rosie replies.
Milly nods before leaning forward and pulling Rosie into a gentle hug, "I'm so glad you're okay Rosie, and I'm so sorry."
Rosie lifts her good arm up and hugs Milly back, "Don't Milly, it's not your fault."
I lift an ice pack up and grasp Rosie's sore arm, "Let's get you cleaned up."
