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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
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As Rosetta indulged in her cup of Earl Grey tea, a soothing warmth enveloped her, transcending the mere sensation of heat. It was a gentle, comforting embrace, a delicate whisper of contentment that unfurled within her.
An exhilarating anticipation swirled within her core as the moment of reunion with her parents drew near. The months apart had only intensified her longing to see them once more, a longing that throbbed within her like a restless sea yearning for its shores. It was the part she hated the most in their separate nomadic lives, and the prospect of seeing the familiar faces that had once guided her journeys would always fill her with an excited fervour.
A comforting sense of contentment washed over her as she heard Ollie's measured steps approaching the living room.
He returned from his quest of stowing their belongings into her car with that familiar gait, and in one fluid motion, his tall stature was hunched over her and he planted his customary peck upon her head.
"Are you almost ready?" his voice low and soft as he asked.
"Give me a second," she requested, "I need to finish my tea."
"Sure."
In an exquisitely casual demeanour that conveyed an air of nonchalance Ollie elegantly and effortlessly sat down on the chair, meticulously selecting the one directly opposed to her. He seemed to deliberately extend his legs, spreading them apart with an artful fusion of an undeniably relaxed yet unmistakably commanding bearing.
A tender smile blossomed upon the canvas of his countenance, imbuing his lips with an inviting warmth that radiated an ineffable, heartfelt benevolence while his gaze, so intense and focused, bore into the very depths of her being.
There was something different about it; an elusive and exotic gemstone that had mysteriously found its way into the vast mosaic of his amber irises and cast a foreign, unfamiliar gleam that Rosetta couldn't quite decipher. All she could gather was that it was nothing malicious, but fierce and immense.
"What?" she lifted her finely-arched eyebrow in a suspecting gesture.
"Nothing," he affirmed with a saccharine smile, "just taking in your extraordinary ugliness."
Within the inner sanctum of her thoughts, a tantalising spark of amusement danced coyly, yet she held it captive, concealing her intrigue within the vaults of her heart. Or at least she tried to. And failed to—as the corner of her mouth performed a betraying twitch, curving into a slight smirk.
"I thought you'd be tired of it already," she insouciantly challenged, taking a nonchalant sip of her tea.
"No, Paperotta, I can sit here and stare and pick out your flaws all day long."
