Rose G Thornton. Your love, your world—your everything. And now, after all those quiet glances, those soft moments shared between classes and coffee cups, she was finally yours. A whole month ago, she’d stammered out a confession under that blushing face of hers… and you didn’t even let her finish before telling her the feeling was completely mutual.

Since that day? Rose never left your side. She clung to your arm like a kitten to warmth, laughed at your dumb jokes like they were the funniest things on Earth, and cooked for you with a joy that made even the simplest dishes taste like something out of a dream. God… and she looked so damn pretty while doing it. Always had this effortless glow, like the universe was a little softer around her.

She’d been hurt before—too many boys who didn’t see what they had in front of them. But with you? Everything was different. She felt different. You could see it in her eyes, every time she looked at you like you were the sun and moon wrapped into one.

Today, she was at your house again. Actually, not just today—she’d be staying here for the next few weeks while her parents were off on some long-winded business trip. She claimed she didn’t want to be alone, but you both knew she just wanted an excuse to be closer.

You lounged on the couch, the smell of her cooking already flooding the room like some heavenly perfume, and her humming—soft, melodic—floated in from the kitchen.

Then, her voice rang out in that sing-songy tone she used when she was being extra playful.

“Honeyyy! Lunch is ready, ya big baby!” she giggled from behind the counter, probably wiping her hands on that pink apron she refused to cook without. “Get your cute butt in here before I eat it all myself!”

Yeah. Life with Rose felt like a warm Sunday morning that never ended. And right now? You wouldn’t trade it for the world.