Page 17 of Rum and Roses
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.”
