Chapter Text
Rose Midler’s life hasn’t borne any semblance of “normalcy” for a while. It’s okay, she thinks. The difficult parts of it notwithstanding, she’s happy, happier than she’s been for a long time, happier than she thought she could possibly be, even. She’s dating her best friend, and it’s wonderful, being as close to Mariah as she is, going from internet best friends to housemates to actual girlfriends. It’s more than she’d ever dared to hope for or dream of.
But Mariah has a calculus class, and an assignment, both of which heavily involve the one and only Jotaro Kujo. Rose had never caught feelings for anyone as quickly as she had for Jotaro. They’d texted for a week, and talked, and she’d really liked him, in every way it was possible to like someone. Then, they’d slept together, and he’d told her with obvious regret and the saddest eyes in the world, that he didn’t think he could do this anymore. And that he was really sorry.
She believed that he’d never meant to hurt her. But it had still hurt. When she’d told Mariah about it, Mariah had been surprised that Rose’s mystery Tinder guy was Jotaro-from-calc, her only friend in that class and her study partner. They’d discussed this a lot, in much detail. Mariah seemed to care about the guy and value his friendship a lot, and Rose didn’t want to stand in the way of that. After all, Jotaro hadn’t been a dickhead or problematic in any kind of way. He’d just realised he didn’t have feelings for her, and he’d conveyed that to her. Breaking her heart in the process, sure, but she still respected that he’d been honest and respectful to her, all through.
Bottom line, he wasn’t a bad guy. And if Mariah was friends with him, Rose was determined that Mariah didn’t sever that tie just because of what’d gone down between both of them. It was the right decision, she knew, and she doesn’t regret it. But it comes with certain side-effects.
Such as: Rose has to see Jotaro almost every day now. He and Mariah have some assignment they’re working on together, and they alternate study locations, sometimes popping over to hers, and sometimes going to Jotaro’s. And it’s fine, really. Rose can handle it. For the most part.
It’s tempting to pull Jotaro aside and ask him why he even broke up with her. Just for some closure. And also, because there’s something else. Something else that weighs heavily on her, something else that Jotaro probably should know. But all that in its due course of time.
Before Jotaro became a regular visitor to the household, Mariah had given Rose a heads-up.
“I know he really hurt you and it’ll be awkward,” she’d said apologetically. “If you want, we can just go to his all the time. It won’t be an issue at all.”
“But you want him to come here as well,” Rose had inferred. “Why?”
“Travel time, and whatnot,” Mariah had admitted. “His place is in the opposite direction to ours, and it’s kind of a bitch to travel back here, especially since I only use public transport. He’ll be okay coming here and heading back home, he’s got his own vehicle. But I wanted to ask you first. We can always meet at a café or something if this’ll be awkward.”
“No, it’s alright,” Rose had said. “This is our place babe, not just mine or yours. You should be able to bring people over. I’ll deal.”
She wants to be okay with it. She really does. And she is, most of the time. It just… hurts.
Admittedly, it hurts a lot less now that Mariah is her girlfriend. Being with Mariah feels right in a way nothing has before, and Rose wouldn’t trade that for everything. Sometimes she feels glad things didn’t work out with Jotaro, glad that she’d spent a weekend on the sofa crying and eating ice-cream while Mariah ran her hands through Rose’s hair and said, “He’s a fool to not want you,” and other things, things that could’ve constituted meaningless flattery if not for the certainty with which Mariah had said it. Rose had blinked up at her, but not said anything, opting to instead simply watch the One Tree Hill reruns with her best friend and be comforted.
But once she’d put herself together a little more, and wasn’t crying her eyes out, she’d asked Mariah, “Did you mean everything you said? It kind of sounded like you had a crush on me.”
And Mariah had answered, with a small amount of nerves and a large amount of false bravado, “I meant it all. I do have a crush on you. Hope it’s not a problem.”
“It’s the opposite of a problem,” Rose had said, kissing Mariah on the mouth. “Be my girlfriend. Please.”
Best moment ever, she thinks fondly.
But other times, it’s easy to remember how she’d felt. Having sex with Jotaro. The way they’d fit together under the sheets. He’d been so nice to her. So considerate. How do you feel, and am I doing it right, and Is this any better? but he’d also been sort of spaced out, eyes glazed a little, looking at her like he was observing everything from a distance. She’d checked in with him thrice or so, and he’d said he was alright every single time. She’d believed it.
Maybe she shouldn’t have. That hurts, too. The knowledge that maybe she was just bad in bed. Which isn’t feedback she’s received before, ever, but who knows, really.
After around a week of unspoken awkwardness, it’s Jotaro who speaks up.
She’s in the kitchen, fixing herself a coffee, when he enters. He pauses hesitantly by the door, before asking, softly, if he could have some water.
“Help yourself,” she says, gesturing to the dispenser and the empty glasses on the counter. “You know where everything is.”
“Sure, but it’s not my house,” he says, as he goes ahead to fill water, taking a sip as he leans on the wall by the door, watching her cautiously. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, you’ve always been considerate, haven’t you?” she asks, and it comes out wrong, harsher than she means for it to, and they both flinch. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I probably deserved that,” Jotaro says, still looking at her with that intensity. “I really am sorry.”
“No, but I shouldn’t have been sarcastic about that,” Rose backtracks. “You have been very considerate, Jotaro, more than most guys I know. Which is why, the way things ended, it felt… it didn’t sit right with me. I mean. It hurt me, sure, but it’s a little more than that. I feel like something went wrong. And it’s not understanding, not knowing that… that really fucks me up.”
“That’s fair,” Jotaro says, after a quiet pause. He walks over to the sink, washing his glass before leaving it to dry with the other wet dishes. “Do you want to… talk about it later? Once Mariah and I are done?”
“That’d be nice,” she says. “Thanks.”
She sits around in her room, waiting idly. She tries to work on her chemistry thesis, but types one sentence and stares at the cursor blinking, unable to write anything more. There’s multiple reasons she needs to resolve whatever this is, with Jotaro. It’s for the best.
Finally, there’s a knock on the door. It’s Mariah, to her surprise, who gives her a quick hug. “Jojo says the two of you wanted to talk now? Resolve shit?”
Rose nods.
“I’ll just pop out to get some groceries and so on, then,” Mariah says, perceptively. “Unless you want me to stay here.”
“No, that’s okay,” Rose says. “Might be easier for us both if we’re alone. I… sorry.”
“Nothing to apologise for,” Mariah says. She leans in, kisses Rose briefly and chastely, but firmly, a non-verbal reassurance of its own. “Text when you want me to come back. Alright?”
Rose nods, and watches Mariah leave, before exiting her own room. Jotaro’s sitting in the living room, flipping through one of the scientific journals that are always on the coffee table, the one with the article on biochemistry and some new marine discovery.
“You can borrow that if you like, I’m done reading it,” Rose says, in lieu of a hello, as she sprawls down across Jotaro.
Jotaro nods, pulling a post-it out of his pocket and using it as a bookmark, closing the journal and gazing at her intently. Giving her his full attention.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asks, even though they both know.
“We fucked, and then you just disappeared,” Rose says. “You told me you couldn’t do it anymore and that was it. It made me feel like shit. Was the sex that bad?”
“I…” Jotaro blinks. “I don’t know if the sex was bad.”
“What does that mean?” Rose asks.
“I’m not sexually attracted to women,” Jotaro says, quietly. He looks like he’s going to say more, but he’s hesitating. “You were – you are – the only person I’ve ever slept with.” He’s still hesitating.
Rose blinks. “Seriously?”
Jotaro nods. “I’m…” he swallows, and even though his expression hasn’t changed very much, Rose can tell that he’s nervous. “Asexual,” he completes, “and aromantic. And I wasn’t in a good mental space when I… when we…. and I might’ve led you to think that I was open for a kind of relationship that I’d never actually be able to fulfil. Which. I am sorry for. Really.”
Rose blinks at him further. Her mind is full of thoughts that she isn’t sure she knows how to verbalise.
“I, uh,” she swallows. “Jotaro, I didn’t know. That’s… that’s a lot. Thank you for telling me that.”
He nods, still looking at her with the same intensity, but the set of his shoulders relaxes minutely. Was he worried she was going to judge him for his identity? Or ask invasive questions, or disrespect him in some other way?
Maybe it’s all those things that sway her decision to say what she says next.
“I understand,” she tells him. “I’m demisexual.”
He looks surprised. She tries not to think too much about it.
“It took me a while to understand,” she says. “I slept with people I didn’t actually feel anything for and thought sex was lacklustre for everyone, for a bit. Then I read more, and did my research, had a crush on someone who didn’t reciprocate and realised, oh, this is what it feels like, and got to a point where I felt comfortable and secure in my identity. So, I think I understand what it must’ve been like, for you, to some extent. Sleeping with someone because you think it’s what’s normal, and what’s expected. I… I’m sure that was difficult for you, and I’m sorry about that.”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” Jotaro says, firmly. “Nothing.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that as an apology.” Rose gives him a grin, which he hesitantly, confusedly returns. “I meant it in a more, sincerest condolences kind of way. You were probably really struggling with this, and I don’t like to see anyone struggle. That’s all.”
“That’s kind of you,” Jotaro says. “Thanks.”
She nods. And then she says the thing that’s been haunting her, all along, the thing that she can’t get over even if she probably should just get over it.
“But I just… I don’t understand. I thought you liked me platonically at least, if nothing else. We infodumped so much at each other! You listened to me rant about metals and my thesis and some undiscovered elements for almost two hours over the phone.” Rose sighs, shrugging. “Talking to you was always really nice. I felt really understood. And then we slept together and you wanted nothing to do with me anymore, and that hurt. I really valued your company, and maybe it wasn’t mutual? Did you just… not even want to be my friend?”
Jotaro’s been looking a little tense during this, and now he says, insistent, “It wasn’t like that. I never meant to – I…. I valued your friendship too. I liked talking to you on the phone and I liked texting you. I just. After. After we did that I thought maybe it was best for everyone, if you didn’t have to deal with me. You… you really opened up to me, and it felt like I had nothing to offer you.” Jotaro sighs, looking away. “I thought you wouldn’t want to continue being my friend, after everything. And I thought it was just easier… to make a graceful exit.”
Rose blinks, looking at him. He looks almost ashamed, no longer meeting her eyes, hat brim pulled over to cast his face in shadow.
“I’m glad we cleared this,” she says, as gently as she possibly can. “I very much do want to be your friend. Can we do that?”
“Yeah,” Jotaro says. He sounds kind of gruff, but his eyes are a little wet, like he might be on the verge of crying. He blinks forcefully, like he’s willing the potential tears away. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Great!” Rose says, and she means it. “Can I have a totally platonic hug?”
Jotaro nods, getting up and walking towards her. She holds him, and he goes limp against her with a quiet sigh, arms curling around her tentatively, mirroring his posture.
“Thanks,” he says, as they’re both pulling away. “I think I really needed that.”
“Thank you,” Rose says. “I needed that, too.”
She watches him go, telling him to take care, and to take his time with her scientific mag but to return it in perfect condition or else. He smiles a little at all that, tells her to take care too. Once he’s gone, she texts Mariah, telling her she can come back.
Rose feels pretty good, all things considered. She sighs, getting her phone out, and texting one of the junior doctors at her gynaecologist’s clinic, the one she’s been corresponding with regarding… well, everything.
I’ll tell the biological father after the scan over the weekend, she says. And we’ll find out how/what to tell my girlfriend, together, afterwards.
Good, comes the return text. It’s healthiest to be as stress-free as possible during the early trimester, and you did tell me that you thought this would help. Keep me updated!
Rose sighs, putting her phone away. Wondering how Mariah will respond to this news. Wondering how Jotaro will, as well.
She gets out some sugar-free ice-cream from the freezer – she’d transitioned to eating that, once she’d realised that she was housing what would go on to be a real-life human child in the future – and eats a spoon, morosely.
Mariah returns while Rose is still eating ice-cream and brooding, and misunderstands the reason for her expression.
“Chin up, buttercup,” she says, fondly. “If you’re feeling weight-conscious, you know I’ll still love you even if you get bigger, right?”
Despite herself, Rose smiles at that. If only, she thinks, but it’s mostly fond and bemused. She can’t help feeling like maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.