roses so red [harry lewis]

may flowers

CHAPTER 14: may flowers

Rosalie rolled her shoulders back, feeling a pop in her spine as her body relaxed. Her muscles were screaming for help, almost as loud as her lungs had been, as she slowed from her cool-down jog into a steady walk, swinging one arm across her chest to pull into a stretch.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone on a run, which for the longest time had been her happiest daily activity. Everything had gotten so scheduled and particular that the idea of having time to herself had become more of a fantasy than anything, but after she'd handed the unsigned contract to her boss that morning, Rosalie knew what her first move upon returning home would be.

Her walk slowed to a stop outside of her flat building, and she folded forward at the waist to let her weight hang towards the ground, a satisfying pull stretching her hamstrings. Her heart was no longer pounding in her chest, and although she was not longer moving, her body was so warmed up that the cool London air nipping at her lacked the same bite it had that morning.

"Hey, Rosalie." A voice greeted, and she looked up to see Harry walking over, a brightly colored windbreaker protecting him from the climate.

She straightened up, pushing sweaty tendrils of hair behind her ears and giving him a small smile. "Didn't think your body knew any time before ten existed." Rosalie jibed, giving him a small, smug smile.

Harry laughed, and as she looked his face over she could tell he was cold. His cheeks were a pinker shade than usual, and there was a blurry chapped rosy ring around his lips and the tip of his nose. He pulled his arms closer against his sides, and Rose realized that the warmth from her run had begun to wear off and the tops of her ears were starting to sting.

"Want to come in for a cup of tea?" She offered before she could filter herself. Harry gave a nod just a quickly, and she turned on her heel before he could see the emotional flush on her cheeks. He'd answered too quickly, almost like he'd been looking for a way to make their moment together last longer.

He followed her up the lift to just two floors below his own, and then through her front door and into a quaint single-bed flat. Rosalie was suddenly hyper-aware of the state of the living space, of how she hand't folded up the blanket on her couch or put her plate in the dishwasher that morning or filtered the stack of mail on the bench.

"You keep a tight ship," Harry remarked, completely at odds with the anxiety she was feeling. His statement made her realize all of the ways her flat made her look insane in the opposite direction - the way all of the wires were hidden behind the television stand, the matching place mats in front of the stools pushed in at the bench, and the faint smell of lemon cleaning solution.

"Thanks, I've been too busy to look like I've lived her in the past few months." Rosalie admitted, stepping out of her sneakers and pushing them underneath the small shoe rack with her toe. She crossed to the stove, turning on the burner before turning to fill the kettle with water.

"So you're quitting your job at the firm?" Harry asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. His elbows rested on the counter, and he leveled his gaze with Rosalie's as she planted both hands on the opposite side and sunk her hips back into a calf stretch.

She nodded, reaching up to let her ponytail down and pull her hair into an untidy bun instead, keeping the hairs from sticking to the sweat on the back of her neck. "I told my boss today, so my job officially ends at the end of next week. Looks like the job search begins first thing in the morning." Rosalie admitted with a bit of a bitter tinge to her voice.

"Or, you could accept my offer to work with Lewis and Freya. Pays great, and you get to work with your friends." Harry reminded her, unzipping his windbreaker as he began to adjust to the warmth of her flat.