His Flower

Chapter 9

Rose stared at the blank paper lying in front of her. She wanted to draw something. Anything, but that was the problem. Anything wasn't specific enough for her.

"Hi."

Rose felt herself jump ten feet into the air as she felt hands rub her arm. "Jesus Jerome," she muttered as she placed the pencil down. "Can't you just knock or something?" She turned her head, not expecting his face to be mere inches away from her. "And maybe give me some space?"

"Whatcha drawing?" Jerome ignored her questions and childishly rubbed his face in the crook of her neck before looking at the blank paper.

Rose muttered a nothing before placing the pencil in a mug with more like it, deciding to pack up her desk. "There was no inspiration."

She was completely taken off guard when Jerome grabbed a pencil and the paper on her desk before jumping to her bed. "What are you doing?" She watched as Jerome stared at the blank paper with a confused look. Was he unsure of what to do?

"That prompt." He stated before looking at her. "What was the prompt?"

Rose was confused by what he was saying. "What do-"

"The last time you were at Arkham. Someone said some stupid thing for the group." Jerome snapped his fingers as he tried to remember what the person had said. He wasn't paying much attention that day. The boy was mainly thinking about how what Rose was saying, was stupid and he didn't see the purpose of expressing his feelings on a paper.

"Draw what makes you happy?" Rose questioned, unsure as to why Jerome wanted to know that.

Jerome snapped his fingers one more time and pointed at Rose, smiling and nodding his head quickly before putting on a serious face and staring at the paper.

Rose watched him as he hesitantly started drawing marks on the paper. She smiled to herself before getting up and turning her radio on before returning to her desk. She grabbed the things she needed for painting before she made the defying mark of the first brushstroke on the blank canvas.

***

"I'm done." Jerome had told Rose after a few hours of silence between them, with the only noise being the radio, him erasing and sketching on the paper, and Rose mixing colors, painting, and cleaning her brushes off in water.

Rose stared at her half-finished painting before placing her brush on a napkin and turning to face Jerome. "Let's see it." She smiled, ready to see the masterpiece he's been quietly working on.

Jerome stared at the paper before hiding his face and handing the paper over to Rose. "Just don't-"

On the parchment colored paper, two realistically drawn people were holding each other as they danced. The girl; wearing some type of strapless ball gown with curls cascading down her back and a simple mask over her eyes and the bridge of her nose. The boy; wearing a simple suit and hair slicked back, with a mask covering his eyes and the bridge of his nose as well.

Rose ignored his words as she smiled at the drawing. She was surprised that he did have art talent, but at the same time wondered if it was him taking her art things. "Jerome," she spoke not realizing she was interrupting a rant he was giving. "It's beautiful."

What also surprised Rose was the fact that Jerome has expressed an emotion that made him seem normal. For once Rose didn't seem to fear the boy before her.

"Really?" He watched in amazement as she nodded before quietly muttering where it had come from.

"What?" Rose wanted to hear the story and she looked to him, waiting for the inmate to repeat himself.  She wanted to know where a crazed person like him was able to get an idea like the one on the paper.

"I'm not repeating myself," Jerome stated before crossing his arms across his chest in a childish way. A way that made Rose feel comfortable around him again. "You should've listened the first time."

Rose only smiled at him before placing the drawing in his file. This caught the attention of him, as he didn't see why the files were still necessary. They weren't in Arkham anymore. She was no longer volunteering. All this good girl volunteer act could stop.

"It's not some act," Rose told him when he had made his comments to her. "It's preparing me for college." She turned to face him. "Some of us actually do care about our futures you know." She didn't know that she would be regretting those words until it was too late.

Jerome had jumped to his feet and took two strides before pinning Rose against her own bedroom wall. He could hear her nervous breathing as it picked up. The fear was obvious on the girl's face by the sudden mood change.

Rose wasn't sure of what to say to Jerome. Apologizing wouldn't do much, and surely he wouldn't accept an apology either. "Jerome, I didn't mean it." Rose rushed the words out as Jerome squeezed his hands that held her arms down on either side. "It was meant to be a joke."

Jerome didn't say anything as he rested his forehead against Rose's. "You don't say things like that," he spoke quietly and calmly, scaring Rose even more. "Understand?" Rose nodded her head quickly before relief filled her when she felt her arms released.

She held her arms to herself, rubbing the spots where Jerome's hands were. Staring at them, you could make out a faint handprint. Rose didn't say anything as stared down at the marks. She had tensed up though when he took her arms in his hands and pressed a kiss on each handprint.

Jerome rubbed where the prints were starting to turn color. "I'm sorry my flower," he told her before pulling Rose with him onto her bed. "I would never hurt you purposely if I knew it wasn't for the good of you."

It was that moment when the realization came to Rose. This wasn't the relationship she wanted with anyone. She didn't want this anymore. The only thing holding her back, of course, was fear. She feared Jerome at this point, and she was wrapped around his fingers. He could do whatever he wanted, and he would know that Rose would still be there for him. All because she feared what he could do to her. She has seen what he is capable of, and what's not to say that he could do that to his own flower? The same girl he promised to keep safe?