Chapter 11
Silas
It was mid-afternoon, and Rosalie seemed more restless today.
But overall, I thought she was acclimating rather well, all things considered.
I sat on the couch, scrolling Netflix, trying to find something decent to watch.
Rosalie hummed softly, concentrating as she was rearranging the roses in the vase with fresh water.
My eyes drifted, watching her from across the room.
I loved watching her. The gentle curve of her neck as she bent over her nightstand, the soft smile that played on her lips, pleased by how she arranged the roses.
I was lost in admiration when it happened. A sharp breath, a startled gasp and the sickening sound of shattering glass.
“Oh no!” Rosalie choked out.
Shit. What happened? Oh my god is she okay?
I rushed forward, every protective instinct within me surging to the surface.
“Rosie!” I exclaimed, my voice sharper than I intended. I paused, softening my tone, for I didn’t want her to think I was mad. “Are you alright?”
She didn’t look up at me, but tears rolled down her face. The damn vase broke, glass shattered everywhere, and silent sobs wracked her body.
She’s crying. Why is she crying? It’s just a vase. Surely, it’s just the vase? I tried to reason with myself, but panic tightened within my chest realizing she had hurt herself in the midst.
“Rosalie, sweetheart,” I whispered, cautiously reaching out to touch her arm. “Come here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,”
Why is she acting like I am going to hurt her? Did she get punished in the past for—
“Shhh… shhh it’s okay. It’s just a vase. It doesn’t matter. I can get you a new one.”
Rosalie shook her head, her curls hung in her face. “I ruined them.”
Oh! She’s upset about the roses. I should have gotten her diamonds, that would have been better. Diamonds don’t break or wither either… oh Rosie, please stop crying.
I held her tighter, noticing the blood that dripped from her palm. “Rosie.”
She sniffled. “I… I think I cut myself.”
Cut herself? Glass? She cut herself on the glass!! Fuck.
My heart leapt from within my throat—worry and fear consumed me.
I cleared my throat. “Let me see…” A firm yet comforting command.
I took her hand in mine. Her palm was bleeding.
A shallow cut across the middle. It wasn’t deep, but the sight of her blood, the fragility of how delicate she truly was, sent a wave of panic within me.
God fucking damn it.
I clenched my jaw, taking a breath. “It’s okay… you’re okay… let’s get you cleaned up.”
She nodded amid her tears.
She’s so fragile, I need to be more mindful. This is my fault for being so careless.
I guided Rosalie to the couch, sitting her down in the middle.
I pulled away, rummaging through the drawer for the first-aid kit.
My movements were precise, almost robotic.
My mind raced, cataloging everything that needed to be done.
I filled a small bowl with lukewarm water and found a clean washcloth.
Okay, focus. Clean the wound. Make her feel better. Show her how much I really care.
I kneeled before her. “Let me take care of this, okay? It might hurt a little.”
Rosalie nodded, her eyes red and swollen.
I took her hand again, carefully cupping her palm.
I lifted it closer to my face. Giving it a small feathery kiss, I proceeded to lick her blood from my lips.
The sight of her tears and the trembling of her body made me want to hold her and never let go.
Carefully, I cleaned the cut with warm water and a washcloth.
Murmuring reassurances as I did. “There you go, almost done. It’s just a scratch.
It’s okay. And once you’re cleaned up, I’ll find a new vase for your roses.
” I dried the area with a clean cloth, then reached for the antiseptic. ”This might sting a little, okay?”
She nodded again, sniffling as her tears continued to fall.
I dabbed a small amount of the liquid onto the cut, watching her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“See? Not so bad,” I offered her a small reassuring smile as she looked down at me again.
I gently applied a small bandage. “There, all better.” I lifted my hands, wiping her tears with the pads of my thumbs. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Rosalie shifted, reaching out for me. I stood up only to sit down beside her.
Letting her crawl into my lap and bury her face into my chest, I wrapped my arms around her and lifted my hand to wipe her tears.
“It’s okay… you’re okay. I’m not mad at you—accidents happen.
It’s alright.” She leaned into me, her tears subsided, calming down.
I couldn’t help but wonder who had hurt her in the past. The thought of someone hurting her made me sick. I swallowed the thought.
All that matters to me is her… her safety… her happiness… I’m sorry, Rosalie… I should’ve kept a better eye on you…
I held her until she calmed down. I didn’t speak, nor move. I held her for as long as she needed me. She needed me to be her rock, her safe space, and I fully intended to be that for her.
After ten or so minutes passed, Rosalie lifted her head. “I’m sorry, Silas,” she whispered.
I leaned down, planting a soft kiss against her forehead. “It’s okay…”
She had no idea how perfect she really was.
“I know it’s just a vase… I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to; I understand,” I reassured her with a smile.
She nodded again, her eyes softening with a sense of understanding behind them.
“I am going to clean up the glass now. I don’t want you to cut yourself again, okay? Then we can put your roses in a new vase. How about you sit and read that new book I got you?”
She nodded.
I handed her the book, another romantasy.
This one was called Lies and Lavender. Giving her a moment to get repositioned on the couch, I watched her curl up on her side, beneath the blankets.
Facing the TV, she timidly took the book from my hands.
I ran my hand through her hair, pushing her curls from her face before I rose from the couch.
I looked at her for a moment over my shoulder before taking care of the broken vase.
Gathering all the shards into a trash bag, I made sure to sort out each rose, stacking them on her nightstand.
I vacuumed after I picked up the rest of the shards, making sure that there was absolutely no way she could somehow get hurt again.
I paused, noticing Rosalie watching me. A slight smile formed from the corners of my lips as I continued cleaning.
I will do anything for her.
I made a quick trip upstairs to dispose of the trash bag and find a vase.
This one was just as pretty, but it was plastic.
Filling it with water, I then made my way back down the stairs, locking the door behind me again.
Gathering the roses on her nightstand, I rejoined her on the couch.
I placed the vase of water and the roses down on the coffee table in front of us.
“Here, we can put your roses in here… do you want me to help you?” I asked tenderly.
She sat up, wrapping her arms around my neck without hesitation, and rested her head on my shoulder. I lifted my hands, holding her arms carefully. “Yes, please,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Alright.”
Rosalie pulled away, shifting to place her roses into the vase. I helped her. One by one, we put the roses back until they were all placed within the vase. She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Of course, anything for you,” I sank back into the couch.
Her eyes rested on mine. “Silas?”
God, I loved when she said my name.
I was about to speak, but she leaned forward in one graceful motion.
Pressing her lips against mine, my eyes widened at first, and then closed moments after.
My pulse quickened, my face suddenly felt hot, and—the whole world came to a stop.
She tasted sweet, sweeter than she smelled.
She kissed me tenderly, and when she pulled away, I lifted my hand to her cheek, pulling her back in for a second kiss.
One that was much more passionate than the first.
When we parted the second time, we both panted softly. Breathless, we stared at one another. Smiling, yet speechless at the same time.
I opened my arms, and she sank right into my chest. Lying on me, I pulled the blankets over us. Holding her, I kept one arm around her back, rubbing soft circles as my other hand toyed with her hair.
She had no idea.
No idea how long I wanted this. Us. Her.
Now that I had her, I had no intention of ever letting her go.
I planted another soft kiss against her forehead, holding her as we mindlessly watched TV together.
This, this was perfect. My love. My life. My sweet, sweet Rosalie.