Antilove

Otto

CAPITOLO OTTO

a visit to home, a boardwalk by the ocean

***

WHEN PEOPLE COME TO Rose's apartment, the first thing they notice is how high the ceiling is. She lives on the first floor, if it's any consolation, and all the sub-complexes only have two floors anyways. There's a fountain in the middle of the courtyard entrance and a pool out back, and oftentimes, she falls asleep to the faint sound of splashing water.

    She has a little concrete backyard, a narrow space at the edge of the complex where she can reach from her sliding glass doors. Influenced by her neighbors and the weather here, she's placed a few dozen pots of small ferns and cactus outside—only she forgets to water them once in a while and over compensates by dousing too much each time.

    At the moment, the sun still hasn't fully made an appearance and Rose is sitting at her vanity testing out new makeup looks on paper and perfecting techniques on her own eyes. Rose has always been invested in her appearance and has always been the first to experiment but she never thought she'd end up making a living out of it. The fashion industry has always been questionable for her, which is why she rejected the company's offer and works instead, behind the scenes.

    After she's done, she starts to clean all her brushes and sets all her palettes back in their place and goes to wash her face in her bathroom.

    "Where were you?"

    Her body involuntarily jerks back when she sees Lucien in her room after she's done in the bathroom. The look on his face—although she can't really see—distracts her for a moment and she tries to adjust her eyes in the faint light. By the telltale signs of messy hair, crinkled clothes, and the way his sweatpants hangs on his hips, it's evident that he's just rolled out of bed.

    "You know, coming into a girl's room like that can get you a lawsuit slapped in your face," she twists her words so that they're not so aggressive—but oh, is the intent there.

    "The past few days," he continues.

    In the shadows, he looks almost menacing when Rose can't make out the exact, defining features of his face. It seems as if he's in a mood, no rise to his lips and his arms crossed—at this, Rose can't help but notice the veins on them.

    "Did you miss me or something?" she asks.

    She doesn't have time for his little antics this early in the morning so she cuts it short and shoulders pass him to pack up her travel bag.

    "Did you want me to miss you?" he shoots back.

    He's walking closer to where she is now and he smells vaguely of pomegranates, something that confuses Rose. It's starting to layer over her senses and her skin prickles in annoyance.

    "No. I don't understand why you're so invested in me," she replies.

    "I'm not. Just curious," he simply states.

    Hearing the manner of speaking he's adopted, no disguises and no undercurrent of menace, Rose softens and turns to look up at him. His lips aren't fully closed and everything comes into focus, from the subtle stubble on his jaw and the way his dark eyebrows need just a bit more grooming. It only adds to his charm, however, and everyone other than Rose would simply gloss over it. There's a small freckle under his right eye, the tiny blemish that tarnishes his otherwise perfect skin. Humanizing demons, her own words come to bite her back at her throat.