6: ROSE

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ROSE POV

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ROSE POV


I walk towards the mansion – the place that will give me my answers.

There's a high, stone wall, covered with creeping ivy, surrounding it – blocking it from my view. I edge around the perimeter, looking for a way in. I need to get inside.

As I'm wandering, my mind does too. It wanders to Jack – though I can't explain why.

My daydreams can't seem to escape the memory of his eyes as he stood in the doorway to my room last night. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me with such intensity. And yet even as the thought crosses my mind I wonder if it's true; because somehow I felt like those eyes had looked at me like that before. I recognised the wildness, the fear, and the hint of something else behind it all.

The memory of it sends a small shiver through my body even now in the daylight.

I try to push it out of my mind. There are more important things to think about than boys. I shouldn't be thinking about what it would be like to have his hands all over my body, or wondering what his hair would feel like between my fingers, or...

Stop it, Rose. What the hell is wrong with you?!

I shake my head, trying to get rid of him, and, as the sight of a tall black gate comes into view, I manage it. My answers are more important, though my pulse still feels slightly unsteady.

I approach. The gate is made of twisted iron which shapes itself into the image of a rose at the top.

A smile widens across my face.

A way in.

I put my hands on the cool metal and peer through the bars. The garden beyond is wild; overgrown with dark thorny bushes and trees with twisting branches. They almost conceal the old house from view.

I push at the gate.

Nothing happens.

It's locked.

"Damnit," I whisper.

Behind me I hear the sudden crunch of a twig. I thought I was alone. I spin around, my heart pounding. Then I narrow my eyes.

"You... again..."

Jack looks up at me, sheepish, the early morning light reflecting off his green eyes. He's dressed casually, in jeans and a white T-shirt, his biceps bulging out from the short sleeves. He raises his hand to his face to shield himself from the sunlight.

"You just can't keep away, can you?" I say.

He wiggles his eyebrows.

"So it seems."

I turn back towards the gate and push against it once more.

"What are you doing here?" I don't look at him. I hear his footsteps across the grass, though, and sense his presence close behind me. His warmth radiates from him along with the cool scent of peppermint.

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