official by charli xcx

4 2 0
                                    


she didn't know exactly when it happened exactly. it happened over the course of time, but rosaline couldn't pin point exactly when she fell in love. was it the very beginning, the getting to know each other?

finding out that briana was hard to read, walls that she had build with no intention of taking down. finding out the small things first, like the others favorite color or what foods they hated or the things that made them stay up at night or caused them not to sleep at all. finding out what the other was passionate about or finding out the little things that pissed them off. questioning whether the other was really a good decision or not. finding a balance.

rosaline talked a lot, sometimes to much, talking about anything and everything, usually in great detail, even things bri didn't really need to know but listened to her talk about anyway. learning the small fears they had, that if they rode the ferris wheel, bri had to hold rosalines hand the whole time so she didn't cry, not that she minded being her support.

was it the middle? the way even rosaline, who talked to much, was scared to say something at all sometimes. just how much that took a toll on her, making her smile almost nonexistent and leaving the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop. how bri know what to say to get her to smile again regardless what she was down about in the first place, but ready to listen when she was ready. bri knew the dark blue days too, even worse than when rosaline wasn't smiling. the face she would make before the rain drops fell creating a gloomy storm around her. how bri would wipe her tears and hug her until all the pieces fit back together. the way rosaline has a hard time trusting others, bri another causality. the way rosaline was consumed with overwhelming feelings of suspicion and doubt, how she would question bri not because of distrust but out of a habit formed from years of distrust. the way bri would say something about it, which seemed to snap rosaline back to her senses, a new feeling of guilt and anxiety flooding her systems. how rosaline always ran to a spot she felt safe, where she would take her problems and try to solve them, take her thoughts and try to dismantle them, take her worries and try to put them to rest, take her breathe and try to find it again. how bri had come to find the smallest oak tree among the trees, the small patch of grass beneath it. the tree that gave a small amount of shade but an amazing few of the moon. the tree that always had rosaline sitting by or in. bri always let her take her time, but was there as a comfort, another way to make rosaline feel safe.

it was obvious wasn't it? what they had wasn't dangerous. what they had wasn't complicated. they both knew the feel of each other's hands, the lines, the scars, the cracks, the hardness, the softness, the weight of the others hand. they knew the shapes of each other's bodies, the soft curves of rosalines hips, the stretch marks that lined her thighs, the dark smooth skin that bri could feel for hours, the twelve beauty marks that were placed all over her face and neck. the way bri's abs felt firm under feather light touches, the lean way her arm muscles looked, the way her pale skin was painted in freckles all over that rosaline connected over and over again. the way their bodies looked at 8pm on a wednesday night it, the way their bodies looked at 1am after a wild saturday evening, the way their bodies looked at 4am under the sheets blocking out the rest of the world. the way that things would break during these moments from switching positions or locations, allowing for a full belly laugh and sickly sweet kiss that always reminded them of what they were doing before hand. they both knew different faces the other wore. the way bri's dimples disappeared and her brow furrowed creating a smile worry line on her forehead when she was stressed. the way rosalines true smile touched her eyes, crows feet well on their way, formed at the corner of her eyes, her cheeks pinched together, and her eyes squeezed shut. the way bri's eyes slowly came more alive, vibrant colors of green and yellow swirled together as she tried to contain her joy, her dimples deep and prominent. the way rosalines face looked with no expression at all, almost a blank canvas yet it was already marked with a dark undertone, no light in her eyes, no crinkle of her eyes, no bubbly laughter, no belly grabs, wheezing, no shiny white teeth, no hair falling in her face, just her and her emotions that were present and hidden at the same time. they knew each other's past. how rosaline became to be unsure of herself and others, how she became so distrusting of others, how insecure she was of herself, the small amount of confidence she had. how bri build her walls thick, making sure nothing could get in, but how nothing could get out either. how tolling that had been when the walls came tumbling down, like a flood of emotions that brown out of a dam. how she understand the things that rosaline told her about her life, the mistakes she had made, the things she wished she could have a second chance at, she understood because she did the same things. they shared the things they thought would surely send the other person running for the hills, but actually brought them closer. the conversations later into the early morning sun, when the light would poke through and give an ethereal glow to the room. the sweet kisses that were placed all over each other's faces which led to kissed everywhere else, each one filled with emotions.

heart like yoursWhere stories live. Discover now