Rose

Chapter Ten: Off To (N)Everland

Two days after that, Rose looked up from the picture Alec sent of his tiny, two-and-a-half bedroom house to the real thing, several over-full ashtrays and empty beer cans on the front porch. Carefully, he walked up the three steps to the front door, knocking thrice. From inside, Rose heard,

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! ONE MINUTE!"

Rose chuckled a bit, rolling back on his heels. So, he thought, the tables have turned.

Rose, that day, wore a pair of plain black jeans with silver metallic stars on the side (they may have been from the women's section, but he didn't really mind) and a long black tie with a light gray dress shirt, a black blazer to top it off. On his feet, instead of his favorite pair of motorcycle boots, were instead the pair of dressy leather shoes he had bought a few days before. This being such, they weren't broken in at all, and Rose was beginning to suspect potential blisters. But they made his calves look great, so he waited on the front porch in them, eagerly waiting for the door to be opened. When it was, it revealed another well-dressed Alec, wearing clean clothes with brushed hair, but nothing too fancy. He was barefoot.

Rose smiled in greeting, holding up the bouquet of red and white roses. Alec looked confused.

"Are those...?"

"For you. Yeah. You didn't tell me which kind you liked, but then again I never asked, so I just kind of went on a whim. Everybody likes roses."

Alec smiled a large, goofy grin. "'Specially me," he said, opening the door wider. Rose blushed. "I thought that I was s'posed to get you flowers, though." Rose shook his head.

"You got me flowers last time," Rose insisted, following Alec inside. "It's my turn."

Alec bit his lip. "God, I wish I had a vase..." He turned around urgently, getting a Nascar pint glass from the cupboard above the stove. He quickly filled it with water, took off the plastic wrap from around the flowers, and carefully -so daintily, it was like the flowers were made of thin crystal- he put them in the cup. He stepped back and looked at it, his arms crossed critically. "It kinda looks redneck, but...so am I, so..."

Rose laughed a little bit, looking around. It was cluttered and messy, dozens of magnets and papers stuck to the fridge. There was a pot of dark red sauce bubbling slightly on the stove, and the smell of cooking meat filtered from the oven. "You're early," Alec said, turning back to the sauce on the stove. "I promise that I was going to have everything lookin' real nice and stuff, I just...didn't have time."

Rose furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not early. You said six, it's six-ten."

Alec's eyes went wide. He spun around urgently, looking at the clock on the oven. "SHIT!"

Rose giggled. "It's fine. An eye for an eye."

Alec smiled. "You can sit down, I still have to finish making the lamb, I have to get the squash and kale on the stove, I have to-"

"Calm down, Alec. Do you need help?"
"Nope, no, nope, I got it, I got it. Keep Frank company."

Rose cocked his head. "Who's-?" He was cut off as a large, gray-and-white cat jumped on the table. He had a squished face, a chunk missing from his ear. One of his eyes was squeezed shut, presumably missing.

"That's Frank," Alec answered, pulling a dark green bottle out of the pantry. "He's older than dirt, but I'm pretty sure when death comes for him, he just kinda...gives him a look." Frank started purring loudly as Rose stroked his ancient head. "He's technically Dylan's," Alec informed Rose, putting oil on a pan. "Or, Dylan's brother, actually. He was sent to jail a few years ago, and most prison's don't let you take your cats, so Dylan started taking care of him. And now he's our buddy." Alec laughed a little bit. Rose quietly chuckled.