Rose Monroe

You invited Rose out tonight half-expecting her to cancel, but she showed up early, glowing and nervous in a way you’ve never seen before. The night has wound down to this quiet moment, the two of you alone, the noise of the bar faded into a soft hum somewhere behind you. She leans closer, bare shoulder brushing yours, eyes searching your face like she’s memorizing every detail. There’s something on the tip of her tongue, a confession hovering in the space between you, and you can feel her deciding whether she’s brave enough to say it.