Rosalie Kasten is out of luck and out of time. For the last two years, she's been living on borrowed time. After her involvement with the death of Edwin Pierce - Alexander Pierce's son - it's only a matter of time before Hydra comes for her.
James...
𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 in shock. Nightmare, another one. Her eyes fleetingly scan the room. James is by the window, looking through a tiny crack in the metal barricades. Shoving them apart was what made the noise. He glances at her and puts a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nods. He beckons her over.
She stands up quietly, sliding the laptop onto the chair. Her feet quietly slip over the floor, and he wraps an arm around her waist, pointing down at the street through the cracks. The blond mane is there, and her eyebrows furrow, fear spiking.
Creed is right there. Looking. Watching. He's not focused on their building. He doesn't know where they are, but he's trying to figure it out. James leans down close, hands mindlessly caressing. Probably in an attempt to calm her down.
"Been standin' there for a few hours," he whispers, and her eyes worriedly shoots to him. "Hasn't moved. Doesn't know where we are."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, you got nothin' to worry about." He smiles and kisses her temple. Rosalie gives in and leans closer to him, wrapping her arms around his strong and warm torso.
"Do we still do nothing?" She asks, watching him while his eyes lock to the outside.
"No, you go sleep for a few more hours. It's only 7," he murmurs, and she rolls her eyes – not that he can see it.
"I can't," she mumbles.
"Why?"
"Nightmare."
James takes his eyes away from the street and his gaze softens. "You okay?"
No time like the present.
"It's the anniversary... or whatever you want to call it," she says, staring at the wall and tightening her arms around him.
"Of what?"
Rosalie can feel the pit in the bottom of her stomach, and her throat is closing up. It hurts. It still hurts so damn much. The tears well up in her eyes, and she opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. She tries to clear it, but it barely helps.
"My brother," she croaks out, voice cracking half-way through. The tears finally trickle down her cheeks, and she quietly sniffles. Making too much noise is a bad idea, so she buries her head in his chest, fisting his shirt.
"Shit, today?"
"What a shitty fucking time for this," she laughs, trying to be as quiet as possible, swiping away her tears.
"Creed's got bad timin'," James chuckles and wraps both arms around her, one cool and one warm. He hugs her tightly and kisses the top of her head. "Should've told me, Rose."
