Withering Rose

Chapter 13

Marcus P.O.V.

Later that evening, we sat on her couch, the glow from the TV casting soft, flickering light across the room. The volume of the scary movie we were watching seemed to fade into the background as my attention drifted to her.

Destiny, who had started the evening sitting upright and alert, was now resting her head on my shoulder. Her soft breaths slowed as she began to doze off, only to catch herself and sit up slightly before her head tilted back against me again.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I watched her fight the inevitable pull of sleep. The vulnerability in her quiet movements was disarming, almost making me forget the chaos of the day.

Should I spend the night? The question lingered in my mind. I wasn't worried about her reaction—she didn't seem to mind my presence here, not after the way she relaxed so easily against me. But Franklin? That was another story entirely.

If Franklin found out, he'd undoubtedly turn it into a spectacle. He'd interrogate me relentlessly, his questions laced with playful jabs and over-the-top dramatics. "So, did you hold hands? What about a midnight kiss? Did she say she loves you?" The thought alone was enough to make me sigh. He'd act like a teenage girl gossiping about her friend's first crush, and I didn't have the patience for his antics tonight.

I glanced down at Destiny. Her lips were slightly parted, her lashes fluttering as she clung to the edge of consciousness. There was something about this moment—something quiet, intimate—that made me hesitate to leave.

Her head shifted against my shoulder again, and I caught the faintest hint of her shampoo. It was sweet and familiar, like vanilla and honey, and it stirred something in me that I couldn't quite name.

The movie continued to play, the eerie music rising and falling, but my focus was entirely on her.

Maybe... just a little longer.

I leaned back into the couch, letting myself relax as her weight pressed against me. It wasn't often that I felt this—peace, warmth, a sense of something deeper.

And though the question of spending the night still lingered, I realized I wasn't in any rush to decide.

For now, this was enough

The quiet was broken by the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging open. I barely had time to register it before Stephanie's voice echoed through the living room.

"Alright, Destiny, I'm starving, and your fridge better not look like a crime scene again!"

Destiny stirred against my shoulder, blinking awake as Stephanie walked into the room. She stopped in her tracks the moment she saw us, her eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh. My. God." Stephanie's voice rose with every word, and she placed a dramatic hand over her chest. "Am I interrupting something?"

Destiny bolted upright, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Stephanie! Don't you knock?"

Stephanie smirked, tossing her bag onto the counter. "Oh, I didn't realize I needed to knock to enter my best friend's apartment." Her eyes darted between the two of us, her grin widening. "But clearly, something juicy is going on here."

I chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. "Good evening, Stephanie."

Her gaze snapped to me, her expression shifting to mock seriousness. "Oh, it is a good evening. A very interesting one."

"Stephanie..." Destiny groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Ignoring her, Stephanie plopped down onto the arm of the couch, her energy chaotic and unstoppable. "So, Marcus," she began, her tone as nosy as ever. "What's it like cuddling my bestie during a scary movie? Does she grab onto you during the jump scares? Scream into your ear?"