Chapter Text
2022
London, England
JISOO
As my students finish up their tests I gaze at the window, with my arms supporting my head on top of the desk as I rest my cheek on the palm of my hand. Snow is slowly falling on the concrete. The weather appeared to be colder each day. As soon as I stepped outside I could see my own breath in the air. England's chilling breeze was endurable, but it wasn't unnoticeable. I liked it that way.
"Alright, time's up, give me your tests and you are good to go." I warn them, getting up from my chair. I pick up their tests from their desks as I watch them leave, eyeing some answers. These arseholes are never going to learn. I think to myself and slightly chuckle. It was already getting dark, I could sense the solitude in the halls of the university, I finally found myself quiet and peaceful.
The drive home was the same as before, like any ordinary day, with nothing but my haunted thoughts cursing me on a daily basis. However, something inside of me just couldn't let it go. It felt like the quiet before the storm, something big and disastrous was coming in my way and I was incapable of doing anything to avoid it. I decided to ignore the worrying feeling and just keep driving, fortunately the snow wasn't thick enough to block the roads or my view.
The sensation dared to taste on my tongue. My mouth twitched slightly and my hands gripped tighter onto the wheel. The road ahead me made no sense anymore, did I even belong somewhere? Was I supposed to go anywhere?
I turn off the engine and everything is pitch black, the lights from the streets weren't turned on yet. An unknown figure was sitting on my porch. I couldn't tell who it was due to the darkness so I got out of my car slowly, approaching the individual. A cardboard box was placed beside them.
"Hello?" I call them. Their head lifts and the person looks at me. My porch lights turn on, for they are motion sensor lights. I see her face. What is she doing here? "Rosie? What are you doing here?" I question, confused. She gets up from the porch and stares at me uneasy, I could see her lips trembling, her cheeks were red and her hands were shaking. Always so beautiful.
"I know about the letters." She finally says, breathing out. I look at her for a moment in shock before breaking eye contact, she knows. I look back at her again and I see her waiting for an answer, she was doing the same nervous tick she always did. It's this thing with her lips when she's nervous, moves them a lot in that state, giving me vision of chubby cheeks. I sigh heavily, gathering all the courage I needed desperately.
"Let's go inside so we can talk about this properly." I respond, walking towards her. "I can see you shivering and I don't want you to get a cold or have a bad time because of your allergy." She nods.
We both walk inside, putting our excess of clothing in my chair. I turn on my fireplace and she places the box on the carpet, before sitting on one of my armchairs in the living room. I give her one of my blankets and she takes it while smiling at me, as a sign of gratitude. I walk towards my kitchen and prepare myself some lime tea.
"Tea?" I ask out loud.
"Yes, please." She answers. I walk out of the kitchen with both cups in my hands, I place one of the cups near her seat and one near mine. I could feel her gaze following me since the moment I left the kitchen. She was filled with curiosity on why I wrote them, why I feel for her so hard that I basically wrote a book on how much I loved her. I sit on the other armchair and look at her, our eyes connecting with each other as I drown myself in this overwhelming feeling. Even after ten years I would never get used to her staring.
"I...I've read them all and I'm sorry. It's just...the box was there and curiosity took the best of me..." Rosé starts, seeming nervous.
"Hey, it's fine. No need to worry." I reassure her. "I'm actually a bit relieved. At least I don't have to keep it a secret anymore." I say, taking a sip from my tea.
"You were planning on never telling me?" She questions.
"I won't lie, so yes. I was never planning on telling you. I thought that perhaps if...if I kept my feelings a secret, things would be easier." I answer. "Although love is never easy." Roseanne chuckles.
"There's at least a hundred letters here Soo, that is a lot of feelings being carried silently. How did you keep this a secret?" She asks.
"The moment I realized that I loved you I swore to myself I would keep it a secret. If I kept it hidden, our friendship would stay safe and my parents wouldn't find out too. You know how they were..." I explained.
"Your parents suck." Rosé says with venom in her voice and I chuckle while nodding. A comfortable silence layed there, at least she wasn't angry for the way I felt for her. "But really, I want you to tell me about it. From start to the end." I place the cup on the table and sigh.
"It's going to be a really long story." I responded.
"I didn't travel all the way through here for nothing Jisoo."
"Okay, fine. I will tell you everything, from the start to the end." She positions herself on the armchair, to take a better look at me. The fire from the fireplace illuminated her face, Roseanne was ethereal. Her delicate features put me under a spell that made me not look away from her. Her dark eyes looked right at me, pale face with a gentle expression, soft plump lips slightly open, they were red just like her cheeks and nose. She never got used to the temperatures in London.
"You're staring." Rosé interrupts my thoughts.
"Sorry, old habit of mine." I smile and she does it too.
There's no turning back now. Park Chaeyoung deserves to know that her childhood best friend feel for her like a poet fell for its muse. My parents would always tell me that I was a literature genius, that no one could write stories like me. One of the main reasons why I became a literature professor was because of the way I could write my emotions out on a single simple piece of paper, whether they were false or from the heart. I wanted to help people do that, I wanted them to understand that words are not just words. They are words with love, with hate, with loss. They are the transcript of your mind.
I wanted people to understand the nature of themselves, like I did with myself.
Roseanne showed me that. What I feel for her showed me what I could do with simple words.
Roseanne Park would always be my muse.
Behind every word, every phrase, every letter or even book, there's a piece of Rosé behind it.