"there's a little more death to life than living."
~
rosalie is sometimes clueless to the things that she does.
so why she is cascading. tumbling. waltzing up to the person she called her crush since freshmen year, is a code that is a little too difficult for her to solve yet. like a detective with the wrong clues, or a baker with the wrong recipe.
it seems she's too late.
a girl in rosalie's year, she decides is analise, with the plumpest lips and fairest skin and most luscious curls has already made her way up to her.
faith vance.
rosalie watches as faith gives the girl directions to the café across the street.
only she beams a little too friendly. a little too long. a little too amorous for rosalie's liking.
and as her heart gets a little icier, the page in her grasp littered with curled letters and whispers of something happier, collapses and scrunches into fragments.
her eyes mirror the fragments of the paper as her mahogany eyes jut out in patterns and kaleidoscopes with smaller morsels of hope, and kisses of doubt pepper her mind until there's nothing left but feelings that she cant quite place and thoughts of what-if.
rosalie pivots on her heel, and draws in a wisp of icy december air, almost as bitter as the focused glare she turns onto anyone who dares to look over to the enigma that is rosalie torres.
but that's just it.
rosalie is just rosalie.
not a puzzle for anyone to figure out.
too bitchy. too calculating. too slutty.
in the end she is just her.
she is everything and nothing. not anything that anyone can ever think could alter that.
because she is what she made herself. and maybe shes tired of being exactly that.
because rosalie is rosalie, she struts into the girls bathroom with a tall blonde guy from the football team.
not her type. a little too aggressive. a little too rough. but rosalie needs to not remember. cant remember.
so unwanted touches. forced moans. and a little bit of bruising is nothing if she can forget.
so for now rosalie forgets. like a hangover where her memory is a bit fuzzy, or and camera's sd card wiped clean.
she also chooses to forget that she'll remember anyway.
but that's just rosalie.
not an enigma.
just her.
YOU ARE READING
bones | Ongoing
General Fiction"do you think the camera captures what's underneath?" ~lowercase intended~ (okay so I'm going to say it straight the prologue is kinda sucky BUT I love the other chapter + the one I'm working on right now and I hate to have to ask but when you comm...
