Chapter Eight

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT]

8•••

   It's bittersweet. You never thought you would have to miss this. The minty fresh breeze at the crack of dawn, the sticky perspirations when the sun is scorching hot, the rope burns and the scratching leather to your calfs, the peachy good mornings from your coach, and the thrilling races with your best friend, not to mention your loyal stead.

You know this is something you won't give up forever, but your training days are officially over.

"I think our work here is done."

It has only been over five minutes and you're missing it badly. 

"All there is left to do is race for the Cup." Rufus clasps his hands together. He looks to his daughter beside him and they share a bittersweet grin. Then he gazes over Jennie beside you, stepping up to shake her hand in honor. "Thank you for trusting me with your last month of training, Jennie."

The brunette bows in respect to your coach with a look of contentment, "I learned many things from you in such a short time, Rufus, and I will always be thankful to have met you."

"Sehun," he extends his arm to the prim boy behind, "I'll certainly miss your helping hand."

And when Rufus faces you, you can't hide the pout that forms when he opens his arms wide for a hug.

"Roseanne, Roseanne, Roseanne" And tears sit at the brim of your eyes as he rubs your back to comfort. "I'm very proud of how far you've come.".

You thank Rufus countless times, one for every moment he treated you like his own daughter and you will thank him endlessly for being a father to you all these years. You would scream it out to all of Marcadia, but you're too choked up to speak above a whisper.

"Don't cry, Princess, it's not completely over yet" he says and you all erupt in a fit of giggles at the sappy exchange. You pull away and find you're not the only one teary.

"Come here, you idiot" you pull a red faced Lisa into an embrace. "This definitely doesn't mean I'm finished beating you."

"You're ruining the moment."

You squeeze hard and she squeezes you harder until you need to let go for a breath.

You turn to Jennie and you're aching to hug her too. You've been wanting to touch her since breakfast this morning, when all you two did was sit in silence and catch each other's stares. It is only the least of kinship with Jennie since your talk over dinner.

In the midst of your mental debate, she winks at you, with a kind expression saying that she understands your gratitude to her as well.

"Dad". You snap your head back around to see Chanyeol coming up to the group. He has a duffle over his shoulder and a lingering gaze on you. "I'll be dropping off my first round of belongings at the Grand." he says, and he's waiting for you to react because to him, this would be the first time you're hearing of his leave.

"Alright, my boy, I'll see you off."

But you don't waver the halfhearted smile on your face. You could careless for his absence. A toothless curve to the lips is just for the sake of being polite.

Chanyeol clucks his tongue and gestures a nod to the group before walking away with Rufus. You nearly scoff at his cowardly announcement.

"Need a hand at the shed, Lisa?" Sehun asks your best friend.

"Race you there!" Lisa gets the head start.

You face Jennie with a smirk, "Library?"

"If you can keep up, Park"

•••

   It is in the library, you and Jennie exchange more than just long glances. Your hands brush against each other when reaching over the table to re-arrange the photographs and your legs bump when you shift on the chair. It sends a shiver down your spine every time you touch her warm skin. You've just been sitting that close to study together.

This time it is the founding family members of early establishments in the kingdom, and their descents.

"She's a handful." Jennie chuckles, bringing a photo of a young lady named Bae Joo-Hyun.

"A spoiled brat, I've heard." Jisoo remarks.

"You're not wrong Mentor Chu," Jennie places the photograph together with the so called brat's parents. She tells you of the times she endured listening to the complaints and endless nagging of the girl during events in the North. Clingy, sensitive, and downright annoying, she said. "She likes to be called, Irene. Pretty name and for a pretty girl, I have to admit."

You stiffen at the remark, but take a deep breath to loosen up immediately. Jennie had just spent two minutes describing how distasteful the girl was and yet one compliment to her almost makes you disregard all the other unpleasant facts.

It shouldn't even matter that Jennie called her pretty. She can say what she wants about other girls- looking at the picture, she is fairly attractive and you should care less to hear Jennie say it out loud.

She can be attracted to anyone she wants because it was only a kiss— your first kiss, but so what— you don't even know if you like women, therefore it hardly counts- and you don't even have to give it much thought anymore- you don't know why it bothers you so much.

"Is Son Chaeyoung irritable as well?" Jennie asks.

"Huh?"

"You're crumpling up her picture," she frees the photograph from your subconscious grip and straightens it out on the table.

Your mentor looks at you in confusion, knowing something off with your sudden behavior. But you continue on the names and faces like you weren't just questioning your sexuality in the imagination of Bae Joo-Hyun drowning in the middle of the deep blue sea.

•••

   You manage to escape Jisoo's attempt at digging what's on your mind by rushing to your bedroom after lessons, to use the bathroom- you said. The longer you sat thigh to thigh with Jennie, the more your unspeakable kiss replayed in your memory. It was so vivid and clear that you remembered every tug of the lip, squeeze to your waist, the knee slipped between- it shot a hankering pull to your core that you couldn't stop wiggling on your chair. You felt hot and uncomfortable- you clenched your legs because you knew this feeling all too well. You were cursing yourself because bloody hell you wanted to touch yourself with the cause sitting down right next to you.

Once you burst through your bedroom door and into the bathroom, you just can't help it. You lock the door, lean against it and dig your hand in your underwear. "Oh god" you're wet. You're so wet and all from innocent kinship- you're cringing at how you're letting Jennie have this effect on you. You're wet for her for christ's sake!

Not able to resist the need to release, you move your fingers against you- a steady pace with just enough pressure— you strangle a moan when you center on your clit. Your head falls back and you claw on the door. Your hand works hard on your folds- rubbing and kneading and when you slip inside, you're thrusting with no more foreplay.

You bite your lip so hard, you might draw blood. Your skin is burning, walls tight and legs shaking. You thrust deeper— gasp when you hit the right spot.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, watching the way your face contorts to the dirty pleasure. How disgusting you are to be this wet and at the thought of Jennie god you're dripping.

Increasing the speed, you hold on to the door's side frame- you're trembling and panting and pounding yourself so good you're edging.

You shut your eyes and you feel hands— Jennie's hands— she's all over you, kissing you, pressing on you—

"Oh!" you can't keep quiet— the softest of fingertips tracing your hips, she goes lower— "Mhm!"

You dig deeper and your body loses control. The overwhelming release coats your palm with wetness and you struggle to stay standing. Your breaths are loud and uneven- you gulp down through your hoarse throat.

You stare at the mirror, your hair messy, polo crumpled, and hand still in your pants.

A slut, you've become.

•••

   You bump into Jennie in the hall and sink in your embarrassment as you walk to the dining together.

"I was waiting for you to come out after you left the library, but you took forever." she says.

"I uhm..." you gesture to the damp hair and new change of clothes, "showered, and you know."  you laugh to hide the nervous shakes in your voice.

"I wouldn't have guessed." she jokes. She has cleaned up too, a simple black polo and slacks to compliment your white lace dress.

She looked beautiful in blue, you thought, as well as pink and possibly any other bright color. But enchanting, Jennie is in black.

"My father rang me up today." she keeps you from falling into her trance with conversation, and thank goodness for that, because you are really enchanted by her. You don't want to stop staring.

She tells you that your father had invited them over for Sunday brunch. You show excitement to see the King and Queen once again, but she doesn't appear as joyed for their invitation. You ask her what the matter is and she sighs with a shrug to her shoulders saying, "I just don't think i've spent enough time away from them."

It has been a mystery why Jennie is so disconnected with her parents, or that of why she is trying to disconnect- as much as almost everything Jennie is a mystery. You think back to the days you two actually learned a few things about each other. And the boy she once loved, as she put it, is one of the unanswered wonders.

"We should hurry. King Mason must be waiting."

A boy, you think.

Jennie grabs your hand and drags you down the hall to the dining.

You have no opportunity to raise a question because you find your father sat at the head of the table. He welcomes the two of you, ushering you to take your seats and dig in. You don't engage in the chitchat the King and Princess have.

There's a dense weight in your chest. You can't believe you disregarded Jennie's upbringing of a lost one. You've been so selfish, steering conversations about you and your mother, only thinking about the way it makes you feel and taking no repercussions of the empty loss Jennie must have felt every time you spoke in the past tense.

You should have been more aware- you know you didn't have to ask her pointblank about it but a little sensitivity on your part would have been better. She lost someone she used to love and that spikes your heart because it's not fair that Jennie had to experience it- and not the fact that it was a boy, but it is the missing someone altogether.

It's not fair to anybody, but with Jennie it is godforsaken.

You feel for her.

"Why aren't you eating, Roseanne?" father brings you out of upsetting thoughts. You glance at Jennie and she's looking at you softly. "If this is how you've been eating all this time then it's no wonder you fainted during training."

"I was only—"

"Don't make me call Doctor Moon a second time, Roseanne, I have enough trouble on my hands."

You lose your appetite right then and there.

Unwillingly, you catch Jennie's gaze. A tiny smile rests on her face and she raises her brows to the untouched plate of food in front of you, encouraging you to have a bite. Forcing yourself to, you catch a piece of fish between your chopsticks. You feel Jennie's leg under the table, inching closer to come rest side by side with yours to ease your tension.

And you're relaxed the whole way through dinner.

When father excuses himself before dessert, you and Jennie have a red velvet cupcake each and take a walk to digest the food. Now that it is just the two of you to roam the palace aimlessly, you want the conversation to stray from you. You only want to hear more from Jennie. Hoping in the back of your mind that maybe she will open up about that boy she told you about.

"You and Sehun must be very close." you comment after her telling of childhood stories with the stable boy, who has lived in their palace all his life as the son of her mother's handmaiden.

"I'd say he's my best friend," she says, "but don't tell him that."

Your lips are sealed, you assure.

"He has trouble being comfortable around other people, but it looks easy when he's around Lisa."

"She always has her way of making people do things they aren't supposed to do." you say.

"Well, she's got that lover boy in the palm of her hands."

You stop dead in your tracks. The words don't sit well with you- and a greater ordeal it would be if she really meant what you're thinking.

"What?" she asks, holding her place ahead of you.

"Does Sehun like Lisa?"

Jennie bursts in laughter, "Isn't it obvious?" but you're deadpan at the news. "Lisa isn't taken is she?"

"N-No, but—"

"Good, because Sehun may be built and buff and all, but he's real soft in the inside."

You really hope that this is all just a misunderstanding. That Jennie read the signs wrong and that Sehun hasn't actually fallen for Lisa. Your heart is beating out of your chest because thinking about all the time they've been spending together leaves a leeway for Lisa to catch the same feelings and you think to run down these stairs and to the stables to tell her not to fall in love with the Northern boy because of what is at stake.

"Wait," Jennie halts by the lower steps, putting your feet and rapid heartbeat to a halt, "I'll meet you in your room" she skips back down the stairs in a rush.

"Where are—"

"I have a little something for you!" she disappears behind the wall before you can stop her.

Still trying to wrap your head around things, you drag your feet to your room. And you can only worry in your head for a few minutes longer because when you open the door to the fervent knocks, Jennie strides in with two glasses and a bottle of what looks like— "Red wine for the Princess?" she smirks.

You shut the door. "What is that, Jennie?" you giggle at the way she bounces on her feet.

"A gift" she coys, putting the glasses and bottle down on the desk.

"You got that from our cellar, didn't you?"

"Even if I did, at least it won't be left to dust, right?" she pops the cork open with just her thumb, "Your chef, Dahyun, opened it up for me when I passed the kitchen. You should really commend her for the cooking more often." and she pours you and herself a glass of rich red wine.

You take your drink from her gently, swirling the dark pool of alcohol around. She sees your contemplation and holds her glass up to yours, "Don't worry, the King doesn't have to know about this." she whispers to seal this as a secret. Her sleek eyes stare at you and it pulls you to be a little bolder tonight, "Cheers to the Cup.".

She clanks your glass and you bring the rim up to your lips, tilting it- making sure she watches you swallow down all the oaky, astringent beverage she poured for you. Jennie hums in satisfaction, and not because of the wine.

She hasn't even had a taste, narrowing her eyes as you lick your lips clean.

It pumps your veins and the crave for more of the crisp to your throat has you taking the bottle and pouring another round. You think it to be the cure to the bustling thoughts you've had all day, so you add a little more than earlier. You kneel on your bed and sit cross-legged, patting down next to you for Jennie to move from where she stands still looking at you with intent.

She drags her feet over and rests on the edge of the mattress, finally taking a sip. "You surprised me there, Park." She leans on her elbow and holds her body up to face you. "Consider this a celebration to finishing five years of training."

"I still can't believe it's over." you sigh, thinking back to when you were only sixteen, horseback riding on Orange for the first time. You took him down the trail with Rufus walking along. You tell Jennie this, suggesting to do it with her and Kuma this time.

"I'd love that." she says, a charming beam on her face. The conversation rolls as the wine is consumed. You adore Jennie's features when she is relaxed. Her eyes flutter subtly, cheekbones accentuate, and luscious lips part in perfect shapes to form the words she speaks.

You feel a light buzz, like you're fleeting in the air with Jennie's words. A little dazed, but still present to listen to her stories- the funny ones are even funnier than they should. You topple over each other die laughing and it feels like your jaw might crack, but you can't stop the bubbling joy in you.

The last glass leaves you both restless on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, watching the painted angels spin in different directions.

"You're definitely tipsier than I am"

"You drank just as much as me!" you rebuke.

"But not as fast- you downed your last glass!"

"You're exaggerating"

"You're mesmerizing"

The angels stop spinning.

You turn your head to the side and Jennie is looking at you with earnest, like she has been looking at you the entire time. She drops her gaze to your lips and you lick them instinctively. Jennie props herself back on her elbow and your breath hitches when she cups your face with her other hand- you're stuck in place, anticipation taking flight because the last time she did this—

"I don't think I can apologize for this one", the space between you is getting smaller and smaller- you're just waiting for her to kiss you- to enamor you, ravish you—

Jennie closes in and captivates you in a passionate kiss.

It's gentle, but full of purpose.

Shivers go down your spine as she hovers over you. You cup her face when she drags her tongue over your lips, asking for entrance. You hum when she slides in, dominating you. The taste of cherry wine intoxicates the kiss. It makes your head dizzy and body go senseless.

She bites your bottom lip and the kiss becomes messier. Hungrier. It's the liquid courage taking course. You tangle your fingers in Jennie's hair, not allowing her to pull away from this. You're savoring the taste. And not wanting to tear apart either, she lowers herself down on you to rock her hips.

You spread your legs for her to fall in between because it feels so right this way. "Mhmm" her moan shoots a throb down to your core and you're bucking your hips to hers- you're so desperate for friction that you press your hands to her lower back, urging her to keep moving.

Your dress rides up inch by inch with each grind of Jennie's and you're just so hot that you're just as desperate to take it off— her hand caresses your thigh and she fiddles with the hem of the dress like she wants to do the honors. 

You gasp when Jennie grinds on your sensitivity and she goes down harder. You moan louder— fist her polo— the throb between your legs is pulsing stronger and stronger.

Jennie grunts against you, then trails off your lips— you gasp for air— to your jaw, your nape— your head is spinning, chest panting— the bed is just as loud as you.

"Jen" someone might hear you, "Jennie" you shouldn't be doing this- you should stop— you should tell yourself to stop because if you don't this will go too far.

You put a hand on Jennie's chest and push her lightly, grabbing her attention to stop moving. She looks at you with heavy breaths to even them out and eyes that know this is already too much, but say she doesn't want to stop.

Against your mutual desires, Jennie crawls off and stands from the bed.

You're too lightheaded to do the same, struggling to even rest against the headboard. Jennie runs her hands through her messy hair, straightens her polo and turns back to face you. You're both winded and confused and a little too intoxicated to swallow this down.

"A-Are you..." she struggles to get the words out, "are you okay?"

You nod your head immediately, "Y-yes, I'm— I'm fine"

"Good" she nods, too, still trying to catch a breath. "It's uhm..." she points to the clock then at the door, "it's late"

"Y-Yeah, it is" too late to make sense of this— too complicated.

"I'll let you uhm..."

"Right, you should- you should rest too"

She clears her throat and gulps down with another nod, "I'll go" and she inches to the door- you don't really want her to leave, but another minute longer and you might pull her to bed again.

"Make sure nobody... sees you." you say, even if it wouldn't matter because you're just the two Princesses hanging out in your room- you two are really great friends- there is nothing to hide.

Jennie smiles at you from the statement, probably thinking the exact same thing as you, "Goodnight, Rosie."

•••

   Butterfly kisses is your new favorite sign of affection and Jennie takes advantage of this. She specifically likes to do it in threes.

"They're waiting for me" you giggle in hushed tones, trying to squirm out of Jennie's surprise back hug as you're about to enter the ballroom.

"I just came to say good morning, Princess."

One, two, three times she kisses your cheek.

And she lets go just as fast as she's out of sight, leaving you hot faced and jittered upon entering the ballroom for a meeting with your mentor and Sir Lee Joo-young.

It is exceptionally difficult to focus on the design plans for the pre-coronation ball because the linger of Jennie's lips is too distracting, running thrills up and down your body, and it is just the cherry on top to how boggled you are about last night. You two were dry humping for the love of pete! And by no means can Jisoo find out when she asks you why you're so red in the face.

"It's hot in here- shall we open the window?" you push the wide window pane open and grant yourself some fresh air. Your mind is just as clouded as the dusty banquet.

As Sir Joo-young pesters Jisoo about color palettes, you fill your lungs with the nature breeze.

And when you spot Lisa and Sehun playing with soap and water as they groom the horses down by the course, you decide to stay clear of all the windows.

   At brunch, your father shows, keeping you from bringing up the pair's partiality to Jennie. And you wish father hadn't decided to come join because the way Jennie licks the oatmeal off her spoon makes you think of something much more prohibited than your best friend's agendas, and you're fighting- fighting hard against the desires of last night from surfacing.

If you knew better, you would think she's trying to corrupt your mind on purpose.

"Kind of you to show me all the ways you use that tongue of yours." you whisper hotly to her ear once you two walk out of the dining. You have your own set of cards to play in this game, too.

And you swear you hear her moan at the quiet seduction.

Catching you off guard, she pulls you into the nearest room, one of the lounges, and locks the door you're pressed against by her flaring aura. She has your wrists pinned and your stare lands on her brazen smirk. "Perhaps...." she leans in, close enough to just brush your lips, "You would like me to..." she pecks them once, "show you...", twice—

You close your eyes for more.

"a little more..." thrice—

She drops your wrists and steps away.

You open your eyes in infliction. She winks teasingly, and you're easily shoved aside from the door because of your paralyzing desperation, which Jennie leaves you in to phone her parents.

   Carrying on with your agenda, you wait for Jisoo at the library to discuss pointers on the coronation speech.

You've been waiting for an hour and ten. You wait another minute in your benefit of the doubt, but she doesn't come through the door. Irritated that she didn't even send a memo, you gather your drafts and stride out the library.

What you find sets the flame to an uncontrollable fire of panic.

You hide behind the doors of the library, quiet enough to go unnoticed. Unnerving chills travel down your spine, but you still peak out to look again.

"I really have to go" Jisoo says softly, dropping down from her tiptoes as she straightens Suho's uniform. He doesn't let go of her from his embrace just yet.

"What time may I meet you tonight?"

"I have to meet the King to talk about the plans for the ball."

You hide away once more.

You're exasperated that Jisoo and Suho are being so reckless. Anyone could walk these halls and catch them all touchy-feely the way they are. They know the rules and you've told Jisoo specifically to wait until your father is dethroned— you've given her the precautions but dismiss them, you never thought she would dare.

You don't have enough time to pretend you hadn't seen them before Jisoo bumps you with the opening door. She looks at you and she knows.

"Rosie"

"Jisoo, what is the matter with you?"

"That- that was nothing—"

"Someone else could have seen you"

"We checked the halls"

"I saw you, Jisoo, what on earth were you thinking standing around in his arms- you were practically showing off!"

Jisoo drops her head and palms her face in distress, but you're not quite finished.

"I know I've told you to befriend him and I know I supported the relationship growing between you, but you need to end this" it is out of my hands as long as I'm just the Princess.

"Rosie, I don't expect you to understand—"

"I'm not going to tell you again." you state firmly. You asked her to trust you to change the rules- wait until you're Queen and you promise you will do exactly that, but you can't change the consequences of getting caught before you have the chance. "Don't let me catch you two again."

You walk out of that library with conviction and a side of guilt.

Because you're a hypocrite. The truth tears at your chest piece by piece as you pick apart why.

This game of don't kiss and tell- the secrets, the stolen stares- it's an affair much, much worse than any other scandal and you can't even blame this on love.

You don't know if Jennie loves you.

You're not sure if you do- you think, but you just don't know— and even if you gathered all the evidence, crossed out every single item on the everything Jennie list to what you love about her, mustered all the courage to admit it, you are not allowed to love Jennie.

She is the North Princess. She is a daughter- a girl. You're both going to get hurt by everyone in the way and what could happen may be unthinkable. You don't think you can handle seeing your favorite eyes cry.

If that is what your days with Jennie hold, then you don't want to be in love with her.

You tell yourself again and again. 

•••

   The next day is when you see her next. She had been on the phone with her mother to discuss ball preparations of their own and you decided not to interrupt their call, which she tells you lasted up to one in the morning.

"I bet you missed me at dinner." she wiggles her brows with that gummy smile and you just want to squeeze those puffy cheeks of hers.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't." but you keep the your distance as you walk to the courtyard for the family brunch.

Jennie scoffs at this, but maintains the cheap grin.

Stepping out the palace, the warm sun shines down, but your mood is in contrast to the bright rays. You don't feel like interacting with the parents. They are the biggest impediment to your heart's decisions.

"Jennie, dear!"

You put on a smile approaching the tent, where King Tae-oh and Queen Ara are already seated with your father. The greetings go around.

"I miss you everyday, Jennie" the Queen coos, getting to pinch the cheeks you've been wanting to.

"We talk everyday, mom" Jennie shakes her head with a chuckle.

Father leaves no time to spare before ordering the servants to serve the food. You keep your back straight, chin up, and polite laughs to conversations shared throughout the meal. But across from you, Jennie sees this as forced attempts. She knows you better now. You try to ignore her concern piercing through you.

"Roseanne," you turn your attention to King Tae-oh at the opposite head of the table, "If I may, how are you with preparing for the Cup?" he asks.

You respond, "Like Jennie, I've ended my trainings the other day, so I will be resting until the competition."

"I see," he smiles, "well, it's nothing to be too nervous about- you can simply think of it as one of your practice relays with Jennie."

Your father erupts in a haughty laughter, silencing the table in sudden confusion. "I see what you did there, Tae-oh." he is awfully amused by something that wasn't meant to be humorous.

The Northern King tries to laugh along, "What do you mean, my friend?"

"Undermine the weight of the competition so my daughter won't crack under the pressure, I agree."

You snap your head to your father, not quite processing what he had just said about you. He sips his tea like he hasn't just insulted you in front of the guests.

"Why, that is certainly not what I meant. Roseanne, I'm sure you know that—"

"It's alright, Tae-oh, there's no need to sugar-coat it. Be that as it may, my daughter needs an eye opener to step onto that course thinking she's going to win."

You stare at him in quiet disbelief. Had he made his doubts on your win for the Cup known then you wouldn't have wasted all the years of hardcore training- or maybe you would have trained harder than you possibly could have just to prove to him that you could actually claim a framed photograph next to his winning smile.

Be hard on you- it is nothing new, but place his bets on your loss- you didn't expect to find out how low he sees you in front of your only competitor.

"Say, why don't you show us that new garden bed you told me about?"

You're never going to be good enough for him.

"I'd be happy to, Ara! Come, come."

As if you are unworthy of anything.

"Rosie"

You stand up and walk back to the palace- you need to get out of the damn heat. 

"Hey, wait"

You just want to be alone. A menacing flame has sparked inside you and you're afraid you might hurt someone in the midst of your own offense. You're clenching your jaw and balling your fists in rapidly increasing resentment because how— your own father—

"Rosie, stop"

You're spun around by the hand once you enter indoors. You come face-to-face with Jennie's pity and you're galled by the way it makes you feel- you don't need this kind of mercy.

"Don't listen to what he said"

"Leave me alone, Jennie" you turn your back and rush up the staircase. Your blood is boiling and your chest is getting a little too heavy for you. You've been feeling too much- a coaster of emotions and whelm of thoughts from the other night, yesterday, now—

"He's wrong about everything- He's wrong about you, Rosie" 

You just need the comfort of your room and you'll be fine, "Please just—" because it's too much that this is really you getting angry this time— "just go back and join them" 

"Why do you do that?" she strains in frustration, grasping your wrist and spinning you around again just before you reach your door. 

"Do what?" You are the one who is rightfully in distress.

"Let your father treat you like dirt" she spits, clearly fed up with the way he has been speaking to you during meals, the loathe is apparent on her face. 

And you have no words. You're coiled at the question because not long ago, she was the one treating you like dirt- paying you no regard, no manners, no empathy— you can handle your father being so cold, but cannot turn a blind eye at how small Jennie made you feel- even if things are different now— better now— god you just don't know what things are with you and Jennie. 

"How do you let that insensitive, self-righteous old man look down at—"

"Enough, Jennie" you snap, strong and loud and it silences her. "That is my father" and you will not tolerate ill words against him no matter what. 

Jennie holds her muddled gaze on you as if she is waiting, asking for you to agree with her. Her clutch on your wrist softens and she steps closer, "Rosie, you're not what your father thinks" she says, quiet and genuine- the rub of her thumb brings down the fire in you and leaves the heaviness of your chest to dawn. She always has this effect on you. 

Tears spring to your eyes because you don't like being angry. 

"I just need some time" you say and slide off the gentle touch of Jennie to lock yourself in your room. 

She doesn't stop you. 

The silence is deafening, but your head is filled with cruel, oppressing noise.