mommy | a.rlecchino

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my favorite thing about saving for arlecchino is knowing probably none of her stuff is out rn so I can just build anyone I want in the meantime

—

Rosaria's eyes flicker over every person in the bar. Wasted or not, her eyes follow their every move. It was always like this. Spectating the lives of others, watching their issues be only resolved in a drunken brawl with another person. She found it interesting. Even though she was technically the bartender and should be breaking up said fights. Her usual excuse was something along the lines of it being too hard.

Rather patronizing, knowing there was a cross around her neck at all times as she lied.

On this particular night, Rosaria's eyes watch her friend. Rosalyne only ever comes to the bar when she's irritated at something. And having known each other since high school, Rosaria figures she wants to talk to her about it. Well, complain to her about it. And yet, Rosalyne hasn't been over yet. No this time she's scrolling on her phone lazily. Rosaria sighs, suppose she'll have to be the one to take the initiative this time.

Tossing a hand rag lazily, she gestures to her manager she's heading outside for a smoke. And begrudgingly her manager nods. Rosaria exits, walking to Rosalyne. She whistles to get her attention and nods her head toward the exit.

Upon walking outside, the brisk cold air makes Rosaria's body tense, standing on end. She raises her hand softly opening a packet of cigarettes and pulls one out as Rosalyne exits. "Smoking again? What a saint you are."

Rosaria slips the thin object between her lips, her voice coming out muffled. "Come to patronize me, princess?" She leans close to Rosalyne, who rolls her eyes and reaches in her back pocket. She tugs out a lighter and lights the end of the cigarette for Rosaria. "Good. That's what I thought," Rosaria breathes in, pulling the object away from her. She pushes the smoke out of her lungs with a raised brow. "What's your problem now?"

"Y/n's out on a date with her lame excuse for a partner, again." She mutters, tucking her lighter away. Rosaria hums, and Rosalyne continues. "She knows I hate it when she goes out with them. I don't know why she continues."

As the girl finishes, Rosaria sucks in more of the dry smoke into her lungs. She breathes it out into the air between them. "So?" She shrugs. "Her life."

Rosalyne scoffs. "Her life until i'm tugged into it. She comes to me crying, and then goes back to them."

"Princess, look," Rosaria coughs softly, shaking her head. "It's not your place to judge. We both know i'm a rebound for you too. You're basically Y/n in a different font."

The blondes head hesitates a shake. "You're not a rebound."

"I am," Rosaria offers a shrug, flicking her cigarette softly. "I'm at peace with that. At least you like me enough to rebound to me and not one of the others."

"I'm not rebounding— i'm just.." She stops speaking and sighs. "You know how hard it is for me."

Rosaria nods. "I do."

A silence dwells between them, intermingling with the smoke. Rosaria surveys her friend, before a sigh escapes her and she leans a little closer. "Rosalyne, you like love. You like the feeling of being loved. I get that, and I understand. But this will seriously bite you in the ass one day."

Rosalyne dismisses the entire sentiment as a whole. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

"I'm sure," Rosaria brings her cigarette back and breathes in, pushing the smoke out a few seconds in Rosalyne's face. "Your face is telling lies."