roses so red [harry lewis]

red as fire

CHAPTER 3: red as fire

"You're so controlling!" Harry gaped, throwing his hands out wide.

"Cal offered to let me watch you film! I didn't control the messages he sent, I let him hit on girls blatantly to satisfy you and your video, all I'm doing is sitting and watching." Rosalie fired back.

"What's that gonna do? You're just going to cry to get what you want, make Cal ditch the rest of us, all his mates, to fuck around with you all night anyway." He argued, swinging his mismatched colored sleeves as he spoke animatedly. 

Rose shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Harry a sharp glare. "I'm leaving as soon as it's over, he's yours all night, Harry. I'm not trying to steal him away from you, I'm just being his girlfriend and trying to support him even when it's hard for me. How is that your problem?"

"It's my problem because you're here, intruding on us already." Harry shot back at her, motioning towards the camera. "You're acting so concerned that he's cheating on you with this Tinder video, but if we're all being honest you're the one who - "

"Don't you dare say that." Rose hissed, pointing a finger like a gun at Harry's chest. "Don't you fucking dare."

"All you do is use him for sex anyway, Rosalie. You expect me to believe that when he goes on those trips, you don't just hook up with randoms out at the clubs?" Harry raised his eyebrows at her, holding up both hands with a shrug. 

"I've never, and I never will, Harry." Rosalie shook her head again, shooting daggers with her eyes. "Believe it or not, I'm with Callum for more than his body. There's this thing we do called conversation, but I'm sure you're not familiar since all you know how to do is fight." She shot cattily, pursing her bright pink painted lips at him.

It was like fire and ice, him trying to freeze her with his stony blue eyes, and her with her fiery hair glaring so hotly that it was surprising he didn't melt. 

"You're just the pretty face with no substance," Harry said with finality in his voice. "You don't give a shit about anyone else, you just want to get everything handed to you, and I have no doubt it's the exact same way with Callum. You want him for his image and you're not going to give a shit when you get bored and throw him away."

"And you're a self-obsessed asshole who hates a girl for trying to make his best friend happy." Rosalie retorted, digging her nails into her skin so hard that she was sure it'd leave little half-moon cuts. "You can't handle the idea of your mate having a girlfriend and choosing her because she might make him happier than you do. You're trying to ruin him and ruin our relationship so you don't have to share."

"Jesus Christ!" Callum snapped from the doorway, throwing his hands in the air. "Can't I take a five minute phone call without you two screaming at each other?" 

He walked in, exasperated, and threw his phone down on the bed where Harry was sitting. "Harry, you're being a shit friend. Stop trying to split us up, it's not your relationship to meddle in."

"What about our friendship? You want me to pretend like she's not going to break your heart?" Harry frowned, looking in shock at Callum as he defended Rosalie. "How can you possibly defend her right now?"

"Will you ever get sick of treating me like shit, Harry?" Rosalie quipped, crossing her arms tightly. 

Callum held out his hands between the two of them. "Harry, you really can't be calling yourself a friend right now. Let's just film this damn video and we can fight later."

He didn't wait for any agreement, and instead turned on the camera and got right into things. Rosalie couldn't hardly concentrate on what was happening before her, because her mind had grabbed hold of one thing that Harry had said and was spiraling itself out of the real world.

She'd always been insecure about people thinking she lacked substance. People had always commented on how pretty Rosalie was, but nobody had ever really noticed or given her credit for how hard she was working in university to study business, how many qualifications she'd had to earn to get the job she had at a law firm in their accounting department. Nobody had looked past the fact that she curled her hair and put on her makeup, that she invested some money into dressing well. 

Here Harry was, assuming - no, deciding - that she had no real feelings for Callum because of that fact. He didn't know anything, nothing at all... She loved Callum, but she couldn't tell him because half the time he was kissing her, and the other half they were fighting. She knew she loved him because of how much she accepted, how much she fought because she wanted to make it work so badly.

And Harry didn't see that. Rosalie wished she didn't care, but she did, because if Harry didn't like her then maybe someday he'd fight hard enough and Callum wouldn't think she was worth the trouble.

By the time the video was done, the room had fallen entirely silent. Callum was the first to break it, letting out a heavy sigh. "Harry, I'm serious, you've got to fucking stop this."

"Me?" Harry was incredulous, this was the last thing he'd expected from his friend, to defend the weasel of a girl who was using him for his fame, money, and sex, over his best mate who lived with him, tolerated her, and had his best interests in mind.

"You're picking fights all the time, and it's seriously getting exhausting, mate." Callum sounded exhausted, more than anything else. "I'm starting to get really pissed off, and if you were my friend you'd see that I like her and you'd stop trying to meddle."

"She's using you!" Harry shouted, grabbing the side of his head in frustration. "How blind are you?"

"Fuck off," Callum snapped back, putting a hand on Rosalie's shoulder and pushing her lightly in the direction of his room.

She watched Harry's eyes as she followed Callum's lead, her own eyes hard and sharp. He stared back, his glare frigid, and his jaw clenched. Rosalie flipped her head to face forward, a wave of red hair following in her wake as she marched to Callum's room and threw herself down on his bed with a groan.

"He hates me, I have literally no idea why." Rosalie mumbled into the mattress, clenching her hands into fists.

There was a pause as the door clicked shut, and then the bed dipped as Cal climbed over Rosalie, using his fingers to push her hair off to one side so he could latch his lips onto the side of her neck. She held back another groan - not at the pleasure, but because she wondered if Callum would ever have a constructive conversation with her about this, or if he'd always push it off by initiating sex.

"I have no idea how anyone could hate you," Cal mumbled against her skin, one hand holding himself up while the other slid up the side of her shirt, tracing her hip, "You're so damn hot."

"Seriously?" Rosalie groaned, shoving Callum back and sitting up, giving him another fiery glare. "Really, you're going to say that Harry should like me because I'm hot? That's all you've got?"

"What are you on about?" Cal asked, looking more pissed than confused. "Whatever, we don't have to talk about it right now." He brushed off, reaching his hand out and sliding it around the back of Rose's neck.

She swatted him away, pushing to her feet and starting to slide her feet back into her riding boots. "We never talk about it, Callum." Rosalie shot back pointedly. "In fact, all you ever want to do instead of talk is fuck me. Maybe Harry's onto something - and he's not right about me being addicted to sex."

"Fuck you, Rose." Callum said tersely, slamming his hands down onto the mattress on either side of him like a toddler mid-tantrum.

"You already tried that, remember?" She taunted, flipping her hair back over her shoulder as she straightened up, giving him a pursed-lipped look. Rosalie grabbed her bag and her jacket from the back of his chair, throwing the door open so it smacked against the wall before she stormed out the front door.

If this had been a cheesy cartoon, she'd've had steam coming out of her ears - or better yet, her hair would be actual flames.