I woke up from a brief nap with my cats lightly scratching at my hair. I wonder how long they've been roaming around on my bed.
I roll over and pick up my phone from the night table beside my bed, just at arms reach. It's almost dinner time. I think the others said we were going to pick up some food at around 5 or 5:30.
I slip on some slippers, cute plush ones with big kittens on each foot.
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I glance in the mirror, patting down my messy hair, and walk out into the kitchen. One of my cats follows me, while the other continues its nap.
The first person I see is Jennie, cutting up vegetables and making a mess out of our kitchen. I laugh to myself at that.
I'm about to walk over to offer some help when I notice Rosie, washing dishes. She glances at me sheepishly, then turns her attention back to dish washing. She looks alarmingly pale, but her cheeks are very flushed.
I hope she hasn't caught a fever. I know she's been stressed about the MMA's. She, the most out of all of us, feels the most pressure to be perfect on stage. Her vocals came out shakier than she'd like them to at the MMA's, and she hasn't stopped fretting over it since.
I grab a glass and walk over to the sink. I set the cup down, and turn the faucet on.
"You look a little feverish," I say, concerned, "You might want to take a nap too." I wince a bit, hoping that didn't sound bratty. I feel like I'm walking on pins and needles around Rosie lately. She seems to have been avoiding me, acting strange around me. I don't know why, or what I did.
She replies, saying something about how she's just annoyed with herself about the MMAs. I don't believe her, but I go with it anyway.
"Rosie, you were awesome! Stop being so hard on yourself," I say, encouraging her. Her expression only saddens.
I glance at her. The sunset shines through the window, illuminating her face in an enchanting-like way. I take in her beauty, in a way I've never noticed before. My eyes observe the way the light catchers her long, delicate lashes, to the way it makes the gloss on her full, pinky lips sparkle. Her silky blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, showing off her nice side profile. A few strands hang loose, framing her beautiful face.
She's so delicate.
Suddenly, I feel an urge to brush her hair back behind her ear. I want to comfort her, hold her in my arms and tell her everything is okay.
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I realize what I'm thinking and freeze. What am I thinking? I shake the foreign thoughts away, alarmed.
"C'mon, you should get some rest. You deserve it. You work so hard. I can finish your dishes." I insist, lightly punching her in the arm. She winces, ever so slightly, at my touch.
It feels as if a knife has been stabbed in my heart. I try hard to pretend not to notice, but I'm not good at hiding my expressions. I stand there for a bit, shocked, before grabbing my glass and hurrying out of the kitchen.
I retreat to my bedroom, turning on some music. I lay on my bed, confused.
There are so many questions running through my mind right now. The biggest question, Why is Rosie pushing me away?
But, even bigger, in the back of my mind, a thought starts to unravel.
Suddenly, I see Rosie in a very different light.
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This is my first time updating in a WHILE, sorry. Anyhow, I hope you like it :)
