ROSE

Lydia curled into my side, hugging the baby bop toy I had passed down to her. She had a nightmare and decided to bunk with me for the night. It was okay at first, her tiny frame only taking up a small portion of my small bed. However, when she fell asleep, her kicking and stretching left me with very little space to sleep. Her soft snores filled the room, occasional grunts leaving her.

I stared at the top bunk, gulping down my nerves. It wasn't that high and I knew I was simply being stupid about not wanting to sleep up there. If I could stand on an old, rickety fire escape with Sean then I could sleep on a bed that was a few feet off the ground. But, with Sean, there was always this strange feeling of safety that engulfed me — mind, body, and soul. He didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do, taking it at my pace. And that night, when he realized I found solace and safety in looking into his eyes, he simply stood in front of me and let me do so, promising nothing would happen to me.

It was that same safe feeling that allowed me to share my inner demons, the ones I had kept locked away for years because of the backlash I was scared of receiving. It wasn't my fault, it would never be a child or women's fault in such a situation. But, we lived in a world that turned around and made it our fault. Them knowing those demons would give them the chance to use it against me. I couldn't allow that. I would never allow that.

Lydia turned, her tiny knee making contact with my side. I hissed more in surprise than in pain. Gingerly caressing her cheek, I placed a kiss onto her forehead and whispered, "Sleep tight, Lia," before making my way out of the room.

The house was bathed in darkness. It must have been around midnight or so — not the perfect night to be roaming about but darkness scared me by a fraction compared to heights. I padded toward the kitchen, my bare feet hitting the hardwood floor with a pitter-patter sound. I intended on getting a glass of water before heading back to my room but that changed when I found the door leading to the backyard open. Amira sat on the porch just staring blankly and the star-lit sky.

No matter what Amira had said or done to me, I still cared for her. Sean didn't understand why I chose to keep my friendship with her but it was her that stood up for me every time someone had something snarky to say. I'd love to say I could give people back the shit they gave me but sometimes I couldn't. When they hit close to home, when whatever they said really did hurt my feelings, I would recoil into a shell. I had done it many times when Sean said something a little too inappropriate to me.

Hugging my middle, I made my way outside and silently sat beside Amira on the wooden swing. She didn't acknowledge me. Her gaze never faltered as she searched the stars for whatever answers she thought they could give her. Only when I heard her let out a jagged breath did I realized she was crying. Her wet cheeks glistened under the moonlight as one fat tear after another rolled down them.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, using her jumper sleeve to dab away her tears, "I've been the worst friend lately, I just..." A sob raked her body.

Putting an arm around her, I soothingly rubbed her back, "It's fine. Sean is as much at fault. He shouldn't have done what he did and then he dragged me into it."

She scoffed, bringing her legs up and hugging her knees to her chest, "And then I made things worse by telling Dean what Sean had been saying," she looked at me with watery eyes, "but he's not helping himself with his latest Instagram posts. If I didn't know better, I would actually believe something was going on between the two of you. But you were always right. He's the King of Jerks alright. A fucking chutiya!" You knew she was mad when she began cussing in Hindi.

I remained silent, mulling over her words. My perception of Sean had always been wrong. He showed me what he wanted me to see and not the real him. Now that I had witnessed this other side of him, I was beginning to think maybe he wasn't the King of Jerks after all. Right now, he didn't seem deserving of such a title.

"He's good at heart, Amira, but he's terrible at handling situations," then it dawned on me that he did tell her nicely — or as nice as Sean could be — that he didn't want a relationship with her, "but you have to admit, you were being pushy and I did tell you that it's going to end badly."

She tucked her raven black hair behind her ear, nodding in agreement, "I know, I know. I didn't listen to your advice so I don't expect you to listen to mine."

"You have advice for me?" I quizzed, amusement resonating in my voice.

"Yeah, I've got advice for you. Dean loves you, he's always loved you and I have a feeling Sean feels something for you too. I hate that I might be right about this. I still like Sean, a lot, but his interest is clearly elsewhere. I'm trying to be a good friend here even if it literally kills me inside. You can't keep them both on a leach, you've got to let one go."

Groaning both internally and externally, I got up from the swing and walked over to the banister overlooking the garden. The last time I was out here I was almost certain Sean tried to kiss me. But I wasn't sure. If he was, then I definitely ruined it by mentioning his brother. It wasn't as if I were purposely leading the two on. For most of my life, my mind was made up. Then Sean came in like the natural disaster I saw him as and messed with my thoughts. Now, I couldn't make left from right let alone picking between two men that I found myself caring for.

"It's not as simple as you think, Amira."

"I don't expect it to be simple. The right decision never is simple or easy," she whispered into thin air and I knew she was talking about this precise moment.

"It's difficult to pick between two very different people that bring me comfort in two different ways," I held my hands up and quickly said, "I mean, I'm not sleeping with either of them before you get any ideas, but each understands me differently."

Amira sighed, rising to her feet, "I know, and the choice is going to be on you whether you like it or not. I wish I could stay to help but that would be rubbing salt in open wounds."

"What do you mean? Are you leaving?" I asked, brows dipping in confusion.

She hummed in response, "I have a flight in the morning to New York."

"You don't have to leave—" I began but Amira cut me off with a shake of her head.

"No, I really do, Rose," she sniffled and I could see the pain lingering in her deep hazel orbs. As she spoke, her Indian accent slipped into her words, "I'm sorry I intruded and then made myself scarce by being a total bitch. Just do me one favor, would you?"

I rose an eyebrow in question, "What favor?"

"Tell Sean I said thank you for looking out for me and not to be too hard on Miguel. He's just trying to survive the best way he knows how," those were the last words she said to me before sauntering into the house, leaving me alone in the night.

~~~

Amira left early in the morning. I had offered to go with her to the airport to see her off but she refused. She needed space and I was more than willing to give her that.  Knowing how she felt about Sean plagued me. She also had the presumption that something was going on between myself and Sean and she wasn't wrong. There was something there, I just wasn't sure what that something was. That didn't matter though, just seeing how I went from hating him to now enjoying his company must have wounded Amira.

Sean picked me up from home a few hours later. He had this giddy smile tugging at his lips, a smile that had my heart feeling a little too big to fit in my ribcage anymore. There was so much happiness surrounding him today and I couldn't help but absorb that happiness like a sponge. I soaked every bit of it up, mirroring his smile as I watched him drive.

He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other lazily resting on the ledge of his open window. His jet-black locks flew wildly with the racing wind. For the first time, I saw Sean look so carefree and almost boyish. He had 'Like I would' by Zayn playing, belting the lyrics out on key with the song. If he weren't driving he would have been dancing in his seat as well.

"Are you that happy to have Amira gone?" I quizzed, lowering the volume of the music so I could hear his reply. We were on our way to get his new tattoo and for the sake of my eyes, I really hoped he had been joking about the dick tattoo.

He turned to me with an even wider, toothy grin splitting his lips, "One less headache to deal with, you can't blame me," a look passed in his dark orbs that made me realize he meant that in more than one way. I didn't bother asking him to elaborate. If he wanted to tell me then he would have.

"I hope she's okay," I murmured, looking out at the passing scenery. We were close to the beach — girls with bikinis lining the sidewalks and boys with swimming trunks and surfboards in hand. There was no way you could visit Cali in summer and not check out the waves, "she was pretty heartbroken when she left."

"It's better she left heartbroken instead of leaving here a junkie," Sean's words almost got lost in the wind but I caught them before they could.

"A junkie, what are you not telling me?" I sat up straighter, taking the scrunchie from my wrists and tying my hair up so I could focus all my attention on Sean, "you know, she told me to tell you to thank you for looking out for her and not to be too hard on Miguel. Why would she say something like that?"

This topic instantly robbed Sean of the perfect smile gracing his face. Where his smile sat was now a deep frown that weighed the corners of his lips down, "Miguel's been doing some stuff lately and he might have given Amy some of that stuff to try once or twice. The last time I saw her she was passed out on his bed coming down from a cocaine high."

I gasped, unbelieving of what I had just heard, "Is that why you stuck around her for a while. You weren't only trying to avoid me, you were trying to..." Pondering over the best word to use, I finally said, "You were protecting her."

He sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his tangled hair and wincing when his thick fingers pulled at a knot, "I was protecting her, princess because I'm not as bad as you think I am. You may think I don't care for the people around me but I think I care too much for them."

I was beginning to think that too. He had such a large heart full of love — tough love mostly. Because his love was shown rarely, it made it all the more valuable but he never stopped caring. I looked at him in a new light. In this new light, I saw him as the hero always attempting to save the day. As cheesy as it sounded, he was my hero but he didn't see that.

He said he didn't believe in true love but each and every day he proved otherwise. He loved in the purest manner. He shared his love in the form of his compassion and his need to protect and be there for people when they didn't deserve him there. He loved and he was loved. I wondered if he knew that, if he saw that, or if he were blinded by his hate.

Because, as much as he loved, he hated. He wouldn't admit it, but he hated that his best friend got himself mixed up in this predicament. He hated that he had to protect Amira because she didn't listen to him. He hated that he did so much for so many people and got shit for it in return — especially from his brother. Most of all, he hated the missed time we could have spent together. If he weren't so intent on making his brother happy, maybe we would have realized what great company the other was sooner.

I wanted to break that wall of hatred so he could bask in the afterglow of all the love everyone had for him. He needed to know and feel that he wasn't alone, that he didn't need to be the hero and he definitely didn't need to carry everyone's burdens. I suddenly felt bad for offloading my baggage on him yesterday. It was just another weight added to his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Sean's question put a pause to my racing thoughts. He looked at me from his peripheral, concern riddling his features.

"Nothing," I lied but I always was a pathetic liar.

"You know you can tell me anything," he used his other hand to steer so he could reach over and lace his fingers with mine, "there's nothing you can't talk to me about, Rose."

My eyes glared unblinkingly at our connected hands as he stroked circles with his thumb across my smooth skin. His warmth seeped into my bones, a billion tingles dancing between us, "I know. Honestly, I'm just worried about Amira."

That sounded like a believable enough lie.

Pulling up outside a small tattoo shop, he killed the engine and muttered, "She'll be fine. She's a big girl. Just give her space," Sean glanced at the shop, excitement lighting up his entire face, "a friend of mine owns the place. He's pretty good so if you're ever wanting to get work done..."

"Me, get a tattoo?" I snorted at the thought, "that would sure as hell make Dean think you're influencing me."

By the way his jaw snapped shut and clenched I knew I shouldn't have mentioned his brother, "It's your body, not his or mine. The choice is up to you and you alone. I know the stigma tattoos have to you so I want you to give me the chance to change that. I want to prove to you that having tattoos doesn't make me like that fucker and if you decide to get one, it won't make you like him either."

His intentions were always so pure, even now. All he wanted to do was make me not fear him every time he touched me with too much pressure. This was his way of showing me that I could create a new stigma, one that wasn't so frightening so I wouldn't be haunted by my ghosts forever.

"So, no dick tattoo then?" I had to make sure because I was fully prepared to tape my eyes shut so I wouldn't have to see that.

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "Maybe next time."

"I don't hate tattoos you know," I felt the need to say, just to remind him.

"I know, but I remind you of that sick cunt so I want to get something that will help you. The moment you see it, you'll know I'm not him and you'll know it's me," he released my hand and I instantly missed the connection.

In no time, he was at my side opening the door for me. Locking and activating the car alarm, he settled his hand onto the small of my back and led me toward the black and red tattoo shop. A bell rang as we entered. The inside of the shop was as black as the outside, different sketches of possible tattoos hung on the wall along with pictures of piercings and body modifications. Red lights were fitted into the ceiling, bathing the place in a gothic look and heavy metal blared through the speakers embedded in the walls.

"Sean!" A brawny, bald man with a face full of piercings called above the music, "my eyes must be fucking deceiving me."

Sean rolled his eyes, "Is Storm in today?"

"Storm," the brawny guy yelled like a banshee announcing death, "We've got company."

"Fuck going back there and calling him out here like a normal human, right?" Sean taunted, gesturing to the black curtain behind the brawny guy.

From behind said curtain emerged a man with white hair and stone cold blue eyes. He looked to be a little older than me with every inch of his visible skin kissed by ink, "Sean, finally came in for another tattoo? Thought you replaced me with another artist."

"Not a chance," Sean replied, moving forward to greet Strom in a manly embrace. He then gestured to me, "I brought a friend along. Rose, this is Storm, and Storm this is Rose." The way he rolled my name off his tongue had my knees going weak and I had nothing to hold on to.

"Nice to meet you, beautiful," Storm shot me a wink with a cheeky smile, "to what do I owe the visit or should I ask which one of you is getting a tattoo done today?"

"He is," I quickly said, pointing at Sean. Getting piercings wasn't as painful as getting tattoos. I couldn't picture myself sitting under a needle for extended hours just to have a piece of art on my body. My threshold for pain wasn't so high.

"Have a design in mind?" Storm asked as he guided us to the back of the shop.

It was brighter; the color scheme was still black and red but there was more light being leaked into the room because Storm needed to see what he was doing. Even in here, the walls were decorated with multiple tattoo designs, most of which were tribal.

I returned my attention back to Sean who was peeling the solid black tee he wore off his body. He must have answered Storm while I had been looking at the tattoos on the wall because Storm was already sketching out a quick design on a notepad. My month instantly ran dry as Sean's body came into view. His skin held a deep tan from being in the sun. He was carved and molded to perfection with all his dips and bumps in all the right places.

My fingers itched to trace the lines etched across his abdomen, flowing them down to where his jeans hung dangerously low on his waist. A sprinkling of dark hair dotted its way down from his belly button. I was ogling and I didn't feel a damn thing about it even though I knew I should have looked away. Slowly, but purposefully, I let my eyes sweep up his frame, drinking in the God-like man. When my eyes met him I felt my breath catch. Those dark orbs were hooded and clouded over as they stared at me.

"You know the drill," Storm mumbled, breaking whatever trance I found myself in. He looked up from his sketch, gaining Sean's attention, "is something like this good?"

Sean eyed the sketched, a beaming smile splitting his lips, "That's fucking perfect."

"Let's get to work," Storm grinned, mirroring Sean's expression. I desperately wanted to see the sketch to understand what they were so excited about but I held back and watched Sean lay back on the bed, "you might need to come in again to complete this. I don't think we will be able to get it colored all in one session."

"We can try. I'd really like to get the whole thing done today," Sean persisted.

"Suit yourself, it's going to take some time so I suggest you pull up a seat and get comfortable, doll," Storm gestured to a stool behind me. He waited for me to sit before beginning the outline of his sketch with a pen on Sean's side, "What's a pretty girl like you doing with this piece of shit?" He taunted, smirking playfully at Sean, "you definitely look too good to be with him."

"She wishes she was with me," Sean cheekily replied, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

At that, I scowled and with a huff, I said, "I do not."

"Stop kidding yourself, princess, you know you do."

"You're an annoying, conceited, narcissistic jerk," I proclaimed, jutting my chin up to the side.

"Drama queen."

"King of Jerks."

"Sean if you keep moving I'm going to stab you with this needle," Storm chastised, holding the tattooing machine in his hand. He was about to start making his design a more permanent one and Sean was his canvas.

With a mumbled sorry, Sean sat back; perfectly still. He didn't even flinch when he needle made contact with his skin. The only sounds were the heavy metal music from out front and the buzzing of the tattoo machine here. I watched Storm work, an expression of tranquility dawning his face. He looked completely in his environment.

"Doesn't it hurt?" I found the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. His stone-like response to the needle bothered me. He didn't need to put up a tough guy act.

"It helps not thinking about it," Sean gritted, jaw locked as Storm continued working on him, "I've learned that if I just stay as still as fucking possible then it doesn't pain that much."

Storm snickered and then tried his best to hide it behind a cough, "Bastard passed the fuck out when he got his first tattoo. Did he tell you that?"

I knew his first tattoo was the compass but he never went into great detail about it. It was his first and favorite tattoo, "Nope, he never told me that. Tell me more."

"Storm," Sean growled, "don't you fucking dare. Keep that mouth shut and get to work and you," his eyes softened when they landed on me, "just sit there and look pretty."

One hour turned to two and two to three. Not once did Sean complain or whine in pain. He may have fainted getting his first tattoo but he clearly found some peace in the pain to be able to withstand it now. I sat silently for a while and eventually my ass became numb so I decided to go for a stroll, investigating the rest of the tiny shop. The brawny guy was working on piercing someone's tongue when I walked by him and the thought of getting another piercing appealed to me. Maybe another day though. Today was Sean's day.

By the time midday hit, I was beginning to get hungry and maybe crabby. I was hangry but I refused to leave Sean's side. It was just after two when Storm finally sat back to admire his masterpiece with an approving sigh. He placed the tattoo machine on the counter beside him, gesturing for Sean to wake up and look at the tattoo in the full-length mirror.

"I think it looks pretty good, if I made it any bigger you'd definitely need to come in for another session," Storm informed, sounding impressed by his own handy work.

Sean inspected the design in the mirror before gesturing for me to come over, "What do you think?" Turning his side to me, he left his new tattoo on display for me to take in.

The gasp that echoed in the room was due to my surprise. It was stunning, simply stunning and I had no words because nothing could do it justice. Storm excused himself from the room before I could even tell him how talented he was. In all fairness, he probably knew that already. I wanted to touch the surface but it was still pretty raw and I didn't want to hurt Sean.

"Your silence is scaring me," Sean cooed, stepping closer to me. His body heat surrounded me like a cacoon and if he was a flame, I was the moth willing to get burned while soaking up his warmth.

The tattoo was an intricate design of a burning rose. From the flames and ashes rose a divine Phoenix with its wings unfurled. I loved how the oranges blended in with the yellows and reds, how perfect and meaningful this small piece of art could be.

"I love it, but why?" I needed to know why. Why would he have wanted this particular design? What could it have meant to him?

He cupped my face in his hands, thumbs caressing over my cheekbones as his eyes bore into mine, "Because, no matter what happens to you, you'll always rise from the ashes stronger than before. You're stronger than you think you are. So much fucking stronger than I pegged you for and I wanted to be reminded of it every day. I want you to be reminded of it."

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Every time I thought this man couldn't get any more kind-hearted or thoughtful, he proved me wrong. Time and time and again he proved that the image I had of him in my head was false and the person that stood in front of me was far from the self-righteous asshole I knew.

I didn't want to stop myself when I stood up on the tips of my toes or when I laced my fingers at the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet me. Sean made no attempt to stop me either, planting his hands firmly on my hips and drawing me closer. I wasn't sure where his breaths began and mine ended, it was all so overwhelming to the senses.

He brushed his lips over mine, soft delicate pillows that left me wanting for more. So I took what I wanted, claiming his lips with mine. A groan reverberated in his chest as he pressed his body to mine, my body fitting his perfectly. My lids fluttered close and yet it still felt like an explosion of color. That was all I could focus on. The colors, the tingling sensations I could feel from the tips of my toes right up to my head, the way every tiny hair on my body stood at his attention.

It felt right. He felt right. He had always felt right even when he was being a little too rough. His lips moved with such precision, tongue gliding into my mouth and sending delicate shivers down my spine. I wanted him to burn me — the moth attracted to only his flame. I wanted him to turn me into ash so that I could rise from it stronger like the Phoenix in his tattoo.

When he pulled away, both of us breathless and panting with reddened, swollen lips, he breathed, "You have no fucking idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

I giggled, the sound making me turn a bright shade of red thanks to my pale complexion, "Was it worth the wait?"

"So fucking worth it," he chortled, claiming my lips once more.

I do want to point out how long this chapter is! I thought about this scene, mulled over it and fought about it for so long. I didn't want cliched but then I realized this is Sean and Rose and this is perfect for them. Cliched or not, I cannot picture a better way for them having their first kiss! Also baby Sean ❤❤😍😍😍😍

LISTEN TO ZAYN - LIKE I WOULD FOR THIS CHAPPIE😉