seeking henry

i'm not angry anymore, i'm not. i don't think badly of you, well i occasionally do. i just miss her, and sometimes i even miss you.

[watersrosemary]

Staring blankly at a screen she was watching without comprehension, Rosie mindlessly chewed down on her popcorn as her thoughts dwindled. It was clear the conversation between them had ceased, and for the first time that night, the girl allowed herself to relax as she eased into the fake black leather of her seat. The truth was, Rosemary had never been very interested in films. In her opinion, they were a waste of time, as she’d rather stay at home and work on a new dress than spend money to see something she wouldn’t remember in time anyways. But that was a thought she’d kept to herself, knowing full well that every time she and Henry came to the cinema, there wasn’t going to be a lot of film-watching involved.

Despite Rosie’s inability to sit still for a long time, time passed quickly, the action on screen flickering before their eyes. Before she knew it, the credits were rolling and Henry had flown out of his seat quicker than she could even acknowledge his words. But she couldn’t blame him — being back here had loaded a weight onto her heart, and it’d be hypocritical of her to chastise him for taking a break from her. After all, seeing your ex twice in a day after years of isolation was hard to take in. For her, anyways.

Exiting the theater, Rosie found herself lingering out on the street, standing before the cinema. There had been a time when this was her hideaway, a place she came to for a quick escape. But the safe haven she’d found within the building’s four walls dissipated with she and Henry’s relationship until it meant nothing to her anymore. The place no longer held the same meaning to Rosie; she no longer had a hideaway.

Turning as she heard him approach her, the girl gave him a small smile. “That’d be nice, thank you,” the redhead agreed politely, pulling her long locks over one shoulder. Images of Henry walking her to the Waters’ front door flooded into her head — light kisses in the doorway, deepened kisses leaning against the doorway. The memories seemed clear as day, and yet, Rosemary couldn’t feel the flurry of butterflies threatening to burst in her chest the way she remembered.

[seekinghenry]

Yes. He hadn't expected a yes. Rosemary couldn't possibly want to spend even more time with him, not after the awkward silence that buzzed between them throughout the entire film. Unless he was the only one that felt it. He pushed the thought away, refusing to allow himself to be the victim, not that Rosie was either. He had broken her heart and ran off with her fairytale future, but that didn't make him a criminal. Did it?

He led her to his motorcycle, freshly polished with it's crimson coating reflecting in the moonlight. "You remember Rusty?" He asked, wondering if she had known it was a bike she'd be led to and not a car. Rusty, the only companion he could trust to be reliable, now turned on him. This was the vehicle he met her on. That was the seat he was perching on when he first saw her strawberry blonde hair fall off her shoulders and felt the instant need to brush it along the nape of her neck. He'd done everything he could to preserve a bike that represented them before they were them.

(It was a part of him he didn't have the heart to remove.) (The reckless adrenalin junkie.) (The man who lived fast so that he couldn't look to his past.) (The romantic who held onto the things he loved.) (Scratch that, the enthusiast who liked to keep a memento or two.)

"There's a spare helmet in the compartment. You're still okay with bikes, right?" He fitted his buckle around his neck and lifted himself onto the bike. The close, uncomfortably intimate, bike that would now require his former flame to wrap her arms around his chest. He shouldn't have offered. Why did he offer?

[dailysamclaflin]

[seekinghenry]

Henry and friends, 2013

[seekinghenry]

Character Development: Basics and Cosmetics #03

Who would they have been in another T I M E  P E R I O D?; 

Henry would still be Henry is he were a 1930's gentlemen. When he has everything he wants, he's happy and narrowminded. He thinks little of the world surrounding him and dislikes change immensely.

   Then he gets down on his luck. His love life flounders, he finds himself stuck somewhere with little prospects and the only thing he can do is run away from his issues. He runs to the bigger cities in hopes of carving himself out a new life, one without the responsibility and the lack of hope that his old one had left him unfulfilled with.

   But the issue with Henry is that he seeks a fulfilment that he will never attain whilst on his narcissistic path. In the 1930's, maybe his childhood sweetheart would have kept their child, he would easily worm his way back into their lives and he would remain as self-centred as he always had been. He would have been as bad a husband and a father as he was a lover.

   But Henry does not live in the 1930's. His daughter will prove to be difficult to find and sacrifices will have to be made. So the modern day Henry has a chance at a happy life. Only a chance.

[watersrosemary]

So… do you still come here often? She heard him ask, a question so unsettlingly similar to that of the men who visited her at the club. At work, those men thought they were being cheeky, but the question was coming from Henry — it changed things. Turning away from the movie screen, Rosemary sent him a small smile as she tried to read his face in the dark. His features were only illuminated by the light of the screen, and reading expressions in the dark was a harder task than it seemed. Partially conscious of the pause she’d let slip between them, the girl shook her head slightly. “I don’t visit often, but every once in a while, you know?” she said casually, chewing on a piece of popcorn. “Sometimes Ginny wants to come and catch a film.” And occasionally, I’m even asked on the odd date or two. It was a retort she wanted to add, even if only for her own pride’s sake, but the girl held her tongue knowing he’d hear it as immature and childish.

Despite the fact that they’d been apart for so long, the redhead was well aware of what he thought of her current career and life choices, and for some reason, she felt an indescribable need to show him that she was still desirable — and not by the scum of the earth.

Seeking out his eyes with her own, hazel landed on green as her grip tightened around the bag in her hands. Henry had been many things during the course of their relationship, but predictable was not one of them. There had been so many moments when she’d stared curiously into his green eyes and wished she knew what was going on in his head, and the girl had even gone so far as to guessing what the next words that came out of his mouth would be; and she’d never been right once. Henry had always been good at thinking numerous steps ahead of the game, and the one time she’d managed to disrupt him, he’d walked away. But Rosemary wasn’t here to make him surrender, she was here to watch him soil in the dirt of his defeat. She just wished he knew what he was thinking, at the very least some of the time.

[seekinghenry]

As the seat warmed beneath him, Henry wondered if their special place held a certain charm in anyone else's memories. Two high school kids enjoying the darkness covering their heated passion, an old couple reliving dates gone by, two adults getting to know each other before committing to sex and then after the failure of that relationship bringing someone new to recreate the uncertainty of the prior. Rosie had been the teenager, but had she also been the adult? Would she be one half of the old couple someday? The thought was far from pleasant.

Her words left him with a niggling feeling. There was nothing to do in this town, it was doubtful that she only came in times that she needed to appease Virginia, especially when she had been so interested in coming here in the past. Though maybe her hobby was indulging his. It wasn't like they did much watching anyway.

The movie passed slowly. Not entertaining enough to keep Henry's mind from diverting onto thoughts he'd locked away years before, but interesting enough to stop any other words from being uttered. He lifted himself up before the credits had even begun to roll, telling Rosie that he needed to go to the bathroom. He entered the stall, placed the lid down and sat with his head cusped in his hands. This was harder than he had intended it to be. Sitting with an ex-lover, in a place they loved back when they were in love. It seemed simple on paper. He didn't have those feelings anymore, but then he hadn't expected that he would have feelings at all. Yet the longing for times gone by was achingly painful.

He had forgotten how it felt in those last days of Henry and Rosie. The willing for him to love her again, the emptiness he felt when he held her hand and his heart no longer thumped with the anticipation of a kiss. He had been a romantic after all. Just because his heart had turned cynical, it didn't take away how much he missed his days of hopefulness. The last time he felt this he ran for his life, for his sanity. He wouldn't repeat that mistake, not with so much a stake. His little girl needed her father.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked as he rejoined his 'date'.

[seekinghenry]

Character Development: Basics and Cosmetics #02

S T Y L E; Beige trousers, dark jumper (sometimes striped, other times plain), maroon leather shoes

N I G H T W E A R; Sweats (though Henry still has his flannel pajama's tucked away for his more lonelier nights)

J E W E L R Y; None

C O S M E T I C S; None and doesn't wish to change his looks.

What would like appear like if they were the O P P O S I T E  G E N D E R?

S C E N T; Dior Homme

 V I E W  O F  T H E M S E L V E S; Henry is very secure in his looks, almost to a fault. He knows he is attractive and to some can rub off as egotistical because of it.

[watersrosemary]

Taking ahold of the caramel popcorn, the girl was painfully reminded of their past frolics in the theater. During nights when he was trying to make her feel better, it was caramel popcorn he’d purchase, and the wafting fragrance of the bag currently resting in her hands brought a smile to her cherry lips. “Thank you,” she grinned, turning with him to walk towards the second screen. And right when she started to feel a spark of hope that their meeting tonight could possibly run smoothly, his hand met her back and even Rosie’s good mood was shattered as she involuntarily flexed, her back tightening under his palm. But with great restraint, the girl kept her mouth shut, pressing her lips into a tight line instead — one devoid of emotion as she headed into the dark room, illuminated only by the projection running overhead.

Without thinking twice, Rosemary walked towards the back of the small cinema; only pausing when she’d reached the last row. That was when she realized where she’d led him. They were standing at the end of the line of plush seats, a row she’d come to recognize as theirs. It was where they’d hide in the dark and ignore the film running onscreen as they explored a world of their own, with nothing but their hands, tongues, and bodies. This was their make out spot, one of her favourites, and being here brought back flashes of his fingers in her hair. Rosie couldn’t help the blush that shaded her cheekbones scarlet, and coughed softly as she kept going, trying to elude the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu as she sank into one of the seats in the middle of the row.

Crossing her legs, the girl gestured at the seat besides her, the one on the side of her with a cup-holding divider in their way. Yes, it could be flipped up and out of sight, but the redhead rested her arm on the cushion covered plastic, hopefully eradicating any thoughts he might’ve had about moving it aside. Not that she thought he’d want to — she didn’t want to think about the memories that might’ve been playing in his head. Because the truth was, Rosemary was afraid that his being here wouldn’t hurt him at all, not in the way it was making her head spin.

[seekinghenry]

He grinned as she led him towards the very back of the theater. How many times had they used the darkness to conceal their total lack of interest in the movie and complete passion for each other? Memories of those moments where his hands would slide up her leg as she ruffled his hair with those craftsman fingers were being replayed with perfect clarity. He remembered it well, perhaps too well. Certainly something as simple as a kiss wouldn't be able to linger in his mind after all this time, but he could feel each motion of her lips as they pressed against his as if it only happened minutes ago. He had always loved kissing that ruby mouth.

                                                                     T H O U G H T                                                                                       C A U G H T

The grin faded into a subtle smile as he followed to the middle of the row. He can't think that way, not about a woman whose heart he had torn in two and then exacted her vengeance with haunting consequences. Whatever place in his heart Rosie had upheld, it had gone along with his child. She was nothing but a pawn now in a plan he needed to execute perfectly.

They took their seats and sat wordlessly as the trailers played. Like he never had, he wasn't paying much attention to the screen itself. Movies no longer captured his attention they once had when he was a child. Love isn't eternal like they tell him it is, it doesn't conquer all in fact it creates chaos in an otherwise still world. He hated liars. Hollywood was no exception to that.

"So... do you still come here often?" He asks, uncomfortable with the conversational silence that rings through his ears.

[dailysamclaflin]

[seekinghenry]

"Rosie, I'm supposed to be taking pictures of you remember?"

[seekinghenry]

Character Development: Basics and Cosmetics #01

A G E; 27 years of age.

D . O . B; 8th April 1987

H A I R  C O L O U R;  Brown, occasionally adds blonde highlights

E Y E  C O L O U R; Brown with green flecks.

N A T I O N A L I T Y; White American/Irish

A C C E N T; American, Eastern

H E I G H T;  5'11

W E I G H T;  152lbs

T A T T O O S or P I E R C I N G S; None

M A R K S or D I S F I G U R E M E N T S; None

N I C K N A M E S; None (but hopes to be one day called Daddy)

B I R T H P L A C E; Maine, USA

[watersrosemary]

Watching as he gave her the once over, unable to look away, Rosemary felt her smile turn into a smirk as she tipped her head slightly. “Thanks, you look great too,” she responded, trying to keep the smug contentment she felt from seeping into her voice. You want to go in? Nodding her head as she tried to escape her superior thoughts, Rosie reminded herself that this was a game, and that she’d emerge the loser if she was so easily pleased by the little victories along the way.

Falling into step besides him, it took all the strength she could muster to refrain from reaching out and taking his arm, the way they’d usually enter the cinema. It’d always start with little touches here and there — his hand grazing her thigh, her hand brushing against his arm until they couldn’t restrain themselves anymore. In fact, the she was almost certain that the lock on the projection room door had been implicated by the cinema because of them. So, fighting her instinct, Rosemary crossed her arms instead as they approached the counter. There was a time when she would smile at the lady and pick whichever film she desired, with her hand in his Henry’s back pocket. But her hands were otherwise vacant, and the girl turned to face her childhood sweetheart instead.

"Anything catch your eye?" she asked, unsure of what they should see. The discomforting churn of her stomach was a sharp reminder of their current relations, and as Rosie caught sight of the pen tucked neatly into his pocket, she was reminded of the note he’d written her; tucked safely away with her candies. She’d purposefully kept herself from reading it, knowing its contents could’ve changed her mind about meeting him tonight. And she couldn’t afford to show any more weakness in front of a man who’d only expressed contempt in the moment she’d needed him most.

[seekinghenry]

Foolish Henry. He thought he would return to his former lover and see her broken to pieces by his betrayal. Yet in front of him, she stood strong while he felt his knees weaken and his fingers twitch. It was unusual for him to feel this anxious upon being in someone else's presence. Henry, above all other things, was the depiction of confidence. (Arrogance was both his weakest and his most powerful trait.) He had wanted to think he had hurt her the way she had hurt him. Taken her love and buried it where it couldn't be found. Foolish, foolish Henry.

"Actually, no." He avoided her eyes as he forced an almost sincere smile. "I kinda thought you would want to choose so I never checked to see what was good." He walked up to the cashier with his hands clasped. He had taught so many in his seminars to watch their body language; 'always be open, it gains people's trust.' But Rosie's trust would have been long gone and Henry felt too vulnerable to even try. Vulnerable, not an emotion he was all too familiar with until now.

He asked the woman, the same one that had served them all those years ago because nothing ever changed in CDC, nothing except Rosie, for two tickets for whatever was deemed good and a large bag of caramel smothered popcorn. Something sweet to charm a hard candy heart. "Here, for you." Passing the bag to his 'date', though he wouldn't call her that out loud, he placed his hand on her back as he led her to the second screen. Part of his brain seemed to scream at him to take her hand while the other told him not to touch her at all. After her muscles tensed on the unwanted intrusion of his hand on her body, he wished he would have listened to his own advice.

[watersrosemary]

"Are you sure about this?" Rosemary whispered, five words directed to the reflection in her full-length mirror. She was dressed in a little black dress, a piece that made her flaming red locks look as though they were literally on fire. The girl wasn’t too sure why it was the outfit she’d felt was appropriate, but Rosemary was almost sure it must’ve been due to the gasoline that seemed to flow in her veins, fueled by the anger of his betrayal all those years ago. To sum it up, the redhead simply looked killer, wearing a dress she could get away with murdering a man in. The path she’d chosen to take that afternoon was one of danger and surprise, and Rosemary was almost sure she’d emerge victorious from this battle.

Heading out the door, the girl didn’t even bother to check if Robin was home or working tonight as she made her way towards their spot — a place she’d avoided since the day he’d left her. She wondered if it was still in tact, but then again, the walls in the town of Coeur d’Coeurs weren’t easily broken, whether they were literal walls or metaphorical ones. The dimming light of the sun only cast warmth across her cheeks as Rosemary walked to the cinema, her shoes treading lightly on a road she could only call memory lane. She had so many memories of days where she’d skipped school to zip down this very road on the back of Henry’s motorcycle, her arms around his waist and his hands around her heart.

The girl wasn’t sure why, but as she approached the old wall, Rosemary suddenly felt queasy. Not in the way she did during her pregnancy when she was awakened by morning sickness, but rather in the way that twists your stomach and makes your head spin; a side effect of hosting a bountiful quantity of nerves. With his back to the sun, Henry’s figure was a mere silhouette perched upon their spot, and the redhead saw in her mind’s eye a hundred and one different memories that began with this exact scene. And with the memory of one to remember, Rosemary walked all the way to the base of the wall, staring up at him with a small smile on her face. “Henry,” she greeted, running her fingers through her hair.

[seekinghenry]

His whole body perked up at the sight of his former lover. Those rouge tresses falling through the fingers reminding him  all too well of how soft they used to graze his fingertips, he tried to divert his attention elsewhere only to discover every inch of her remained as beautiful as it always had done. Her full lips, black material clinging to her curves; this wasn't a young girl scorned but a woman scorning him. "You look.." he wanted to say insatiable but settles on a less sexualized approach "great." He smiled as he lifted himself from the wall and walked towards her.

"You want to go in?" Flashes of them fooling around in the projection room enter his head, making the blood rush through his body. It surprised him how much he wanted to revisit that side of his past. He loved her back then, really loved her. It wasn't some kind of first love bullshit that he heard so many of his acquaintances discuss until they landed on 'oh but it wasn't real, it was just the hormones.' He loved the way her dimples would sink into her sink as she smiled and how even in hysterics her laugh sounded pretty, just like her. It was real. But even real love fades in time, only blood could make devotion last.

He couldn't think about that anymore. He would never find another Rosie again, not now his cynicism had bled into his heart. She would be his one and only true lover. Not that he would ever tell her that, it would hurt too much. 'You are the only woman I will ever be in love with, but the feeling isn't there anymore sorry.' He wished he could have kept on loving her, for the sake of his child at least, but by the time his goals have been fulfilled, he would have done enough lying for his lifetime.

[seekinghenry]

Memories Revived {Henry & Rosemary}

His mind reflected onto all the moments he had spent sitting on the wall of the old cinema while he waited for the very same red-headed girl, who was now a fully fledged woman, to arrive. Growing up, Henry had always loved movies. One's where the prince took his princess into the sunset. He grew out of that the moment he outgrew his Rosie. Maybe this is why he now found waiting for her in the dimming light so pointless, yet the nerves he had not faded with time.

He wanted the same thing he always had when he waited on that wall. Back then, the importance of her showing up was that she still loved him. It might not be as reverent as it was in their teenage years, but if she turned up that meant there was a chance. A chance love was in her heart, clouded by betrayal and heartache but there all the same. He wanted that so badly. He could use it to get his little girl back and the moment he did, it would be discarded the way it was when he made the foolish decision to leave without her.

For some reason, the thought of that made his heart tinge with guilt. He must turn his attention elsewhere. Looking at the fading sun, he breathed deeply and thought about the end goal - his little girl finally in her devoted father's arms. Then the pain melted away.

[watersrosemary]

Things had turned down Awkward Lane, but Rosemary still felt impartial to the situation. But it hadn’t occurred to her that their meeting was officially over until Henry stood up and said the most awkward of goodbyes. Waving her hand in soft, silent defeat, the girl drank in his features one last time. She wanted to etch every line and curve of his face in this moment onto her mind so she could keep a mental scrapbook of the process she’d go through to destroy a man. But as the redhead smiled wickedly at her poisonous thoughts, Henry sat down once more, startling Rosemary enough to suck in a small breath sharply.

His indecision towards whether he should stay or go right then and there only made her feel sick to her stomach when she realized that he must’ve only mused over the thought of leaving or staying with her and their child within seconds all those years ago. So when the last words she’d expected to come out of his mouth did, Rosie couldn’t help but feel the shards of her heart break into even smaller pieces. The sound of his voice made her want to face the ocean and scream until the sky shattered, but instead, all that came from her parted cherry lips was a simple, “Fine. Our old spot, the usual time.” And the girl started walking towards the café door, his words hovering on the brink of her mind as she struggled towards maintaining her decision to break his heart the way he’d broken hers. She just had to make sure he didn’t see through her plans before she had the chance of execute them.

[watersrosemary]

Taken aback, Rosemary leaned passively against the back of her seat, old habits kicking in as she retreated into herself. He was angry, his voice tense and his eyes blank, and the girl was reminded for a moment of the monster Henry could become, the monster who’d abandoned his own child. But just as quickly as the irritation in his voice had come, it disappeared. Rosie. After all this time, he still used a nickname, and the redhead physically had to sit up and clench her knee tightly to anchor her to reality. To remind herself that she’d fallen for his indecisive persona once before, and that she’d be a fool to make the same mistake twice. “I will,” she promised solemnly, knowing she wouldn’t have the heart to throw it out before she read the note.

Conversation between the two hadn’t become easier, and were only made worse when the girl watched his hand reach towards hers and hesitate. It was a common action, one that’d warmed her heart when they were together. But reaching for her hand was only something he’d do when Rosemary herself was distressed, what did it mean when she was fine, but he was slightly riled up? But before the girl could analyze the moment any longer, he’d pulled back his hand so quickly Rosemary was left wondering if it’d been there at all, the sound of his quick laughter dissipating the cloud of thoughts in her jumbled mind. Glancing towards the empty cup, the girl bobbed her head in a nod and took back her hand, slipping her fingers beneath her thigh and the couch as she stared at her shoes.

[seekinghenry]

She had noticed. Fuck. Her hands were now placed firmly beneath her thighs so that he couldn't get to them, her eyes transfixed by the ground. Well done Henry, you've made such a g r e a t impression. "Good. Erm... well I guess... I'll see you around then." He arose from his seat clumsily, the outcome of his back being slouched in defeat. He had talked about failure in his speeches. How if you fall once, it is your responsibility to get up and do it better until you get it right. He'd never actually needed that piece of advice before, things had always fallen into place yet here he was falling into oblivion. Unable to get his daughter back because he couldn't shake his nostalgia. His hometown was not good for him and neither was the red head who never failed to leave his mind. Shame they were the key to the only thing that truly mattered.

So he sat back down. Abruptly. "This has been terrible. You know me Rosie, and I know you, and I know we aren't together anymore but we can do better than this. We're... something. I want that something in my life again but I know it's gonna take time so..." he takes a deep breath as he asks her his final question "will you have dinner with me? As friends, or at least two people who could be friends. Please don't say no. Please." He pleaded using a voice he hadn't explored in a long time. The one he used when he wanted to make Rosie's heart dance.

[watersrosemary]

It was clearly etched across his face, the dumbfounded expression of disbelief. Rosemary had waddled into dangerous waters, precisely the place she didn’t want to be. It’d only been a matter of minutes since she’d decided to take the route to destruction, and here she was already making her plans seem almost obvious. Nonchalance would be the best angle to take now, so the girl forced a knowing smile upon her lips before shrugging her shoulders. “You’re welcome, I suppose, although I’m not too clear what for. The past is the past, holding grudges only harms everyone involved,” she spoke wisely, lacing her fingers together. Dropping her eyes down to the table between them, Rose could barely believe what he was offering. A gift? Of what kind? There were a number of things Henry had given her back when they were together, but all of those gifts were given to her because of the relations they’d shared. Now, a gift seemed like too much to hope for. Before Rosemary thoughts could consume and destroy her, the rustling of plastic shook her of the thoughts that coated her like rust, the sound of the wrapping instantly bringing a small smile to her face. Even before her hazel eyes landed on the package in his palm, she knew what was going to be there, and despite the anger laced with her adrenaline in that very moment, Rose was happy regardlessly. They were lemon drops, some of her favourites, and they were given to her at the best time, too. She’d just finished the last of the lemon drops she’d bought from Olivia and it was time to stock up again. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly, finally taking the candy from his hand and undoing the bow. There was a little square of white visible through the see through wrapper, and the girl’s nimble fingers immediately fished it out from the sea of yellow. Written in tiny handwriting was a block of text, each letter sculpted in his own script. Even as Rose perched quietly on the couch, she could sense that reading the note in front of him would bring tears into her eyes. But whether those were tears of anger or tears of heartbreak, she couldn’t be too sure. What she knew, though, was that she wasn’t going to cry before him, wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. Instead, Rose dropped the note back into the bag, placing the entire arrangement into her purse. “Thank you,” she repeated, hoping he could sense the sincerity behind her tone.

[seekinghenry]

"Aren't you gonna read it?" His voice reflected how irritated he was more than he had wanted it to. Her response had been so much more mature, more forgiving than he could have ever hoped for. It threw him off. He had been planning huge gestures to gain back her trust, and though he still had to achieve that, he was no longer sure on how to approach the situation. She wasn't the Rosie he knew back in high school. For some reason, he had only considered the idea that she would be exactly the same. "I'm sorry... I- I get it. Just promise me you'll read it. I know I haven't earned your word, but it's important. I really want to start again with you Rosie." It surprised him how easy it was to lie to her. To tell her that it's her he's interested in knowing, for them to start again. It almost made him feel sick to know that it would only end the same way. He would be gone, the baby would be taken from her and she would have nothing again. Almost.

He went to take her hands in his, stopping himself just as he was hovering over her fingertips. It was an instinct he'd forgotten he had. Whenever he was concerned for her, he would hold her hand to make it better. Was he worried for her? He couldn't be. He didn't even know who she was anymore, let alone cared for who she had been - the woman who gave his little girl away. He scratched the back of his head and gave her a small nervous laugh. "You want another?" He pointed to the coffee, a forced smile painted on his lips. She must have noticed his hands glide over to hers, even when he withdrew them with incredulous speed. He avoided her eyes, fearing that he'd blown his chance with one stupid, accidental mistake.

[watersrosemary]

A lot had changed? Was he serious? Everything had changed. The world itself was a different place — social issues were being brought to life and the world was listening for the very first time. Resisting the urge to let out a snort or roll her eyes, Rose looked down at the mug the waitress had set before her instead, cradling the familiar drink between her palms. The girl was barely listening to his words, tracing the whipped cream with the tip of her index finger and licking it, instead. Rose wondered if he was telling the truth, wondered if the Henry she’d known had settled down with a job, wondered if he was any good at persuasion, and wondered if the change had come about because of a girl— a girl? The thoughts that seeped into Rose’s head were ridiculous sometimes, and yet, she had to process them anyways. Taking a sip of her latte and peering up at him, the girl watched as he stuttered an apology, his eyes wide and chin set, almost as if expecting to be forgiven on the spot. This was it, the moment of truth for the messee to mess with the messer. So Rosemary traced her lips with the tip of her tongue, lapping up any traces of coffee, before softening her features. Her eyes were practically a warm chocolate brown, forgiving for him in ways the words that spilled from her lips never could. “It’s alright, Henry. We were young, and you acted on impulse,” she reasoned. “I understand.” That didn’t stop it from hurting any more than it did, even now after all these years, Rose could feel the hurt her young heart had endured. It had all come down to him, and in the most dire of moments, Henry MacMillan had broken her — and there was nothing to do except break him.

[henrymacmillan-blog]

Just like that? She accepted it like it was nothing. Like he’d broken up with her for a career as a dancer instead of abandoning her with an unborn baby resulting in her losing out on ever achieving her dreams. She just… said it was okay. “Tha… Thank you… for understanding.” His confusion was evident as his brows furrowed and his jaw relaxed. “I erm… I have something for you.” He took out a small bag containing the sweets he’d bought the other day helpfully chosen by the store owner. He should have included caramels, he knew she loved them, but he supposed at the time he was thinking more about the end result than the past. He handed the bag over to her, inside was a little note. An extract actually, taken from one his speeches he’d done over in Illinois. They asked him to speak about relationships and how they affect us. So he wrote about regret and how his was walking out on her. He’d left out the part about the baby, and that his regret was little to do with Rosie and more to do with his failure as a father, it wasn’t the romantic bullshit people wanted to hear. But for all Rosemary knew, his anguish was about her. Make her think she’s special, that there’s hope and then she will let you in. Henry hoped that his actions didn’t incite love, he didn’t want to break her heart not again, he just needed to get close to her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried other methods of finding his daughter, but it was useless without the paperwork. He needed it. There was no other way.

[watersrosemary]

There was something about the way his eyes followed her every movement that made her feel bare, as though he’d managed to strip away the clothes on her body and surround her with an air of self consciousness. The Henry she knew used to do the same thing, except the way his eyes had undressed her then was intimate and loving, able to ignite a warmth inside her chest. Pushing away the daunting silhouette of old memories and old feelings, Rose watched as he turned away and gestured for two more cups of the drink before him. There was only one beverage Rosemary would always choose to drink in a cafe — a salted caramel latte. Salted caramels were her favourite, and when the coffee gods had invented a salted caramel latte Rose had seen it as a gift from the heavens and downed it unquestioningly. It took her by surprise that it was his choice of drink, but endearing nonetheless. She’d been the one to introduce him to it, after all. “How’ve I been?” she repeated stupidly, trying to detect a scornful tone in his words. Henry knew she was a stripper, and she knew just how he felt about it, too. Regardless, Rose laced her fingers together as she struggled to maintain a calm exterior. There was no point in getting mad, the past was the past, and she could only influence the future. So the girl parted her lips, lifting her shoulders in the slightest of shrugs. “I’m not too bad, just busy with the club, that’s all.” Tucking away the strand of hair that’d fallen out from behind her ear, the girl trained her eyes on him, allowing herself to take in his features properly for the first time that day. The years had been kind on him, his features still boyishly handsome, enough to cause the hand in her lap to ball into a fist. “How about you?”

[henrymacmillan-blog]

He’d been right about her choice of drink, he could tell by the way her eyes glistened as he brought it over and how her brows furrowed with inquisition when she saw he had chosen the same. “A lot has changed. A lot. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, find myself. I’m a motivational speaker now - I’m pretty good it or so I’ve heard. I… I think about you often and how I left things. I don’t…. I don’t know where to start really.” He tapped his fingers along the plastic coating on the side of the table, urging the words to appear in his head like he’d practiced. It felt like he was doing one of his speeches and suddenly he’d come across a slide that wasn’t meant to be there. This conversation had seeped into his mind almost every hour that he’d been back at Coeur d’Coeurs. He’d imagined several different scenarios and ways to deal with them; if Rosemary stormed out he’d follow, if she cried he’d place a hand over her shoulder and wait for the noise to muffle, if she sat in silence while he did the talking then he’d shed a tear to seem sincere. He wasn’t counting on him being the issue. Hadn’t thought about the guilt that would come rushing back to him, or the flashbacks to a girl he once loved to keep wandering round his head blurring his rational mind. “I erm… I guess… I guess I’m just sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out like that I know, but I was barely a man and I just wasn’t ready, but I’m here now and I want to make it right.”

[watersrosemary]

It hadn’t been a long silence, it couldn’t have been any longer than a few heartbeats. And yet, the pause between them seemed to stretch on for miles, long enough to reach the ends of the Earth. Almost immediately, Rose wanted to turn away, wanted to run out the door from what was clearly a mistake. There was no way she could eliminate the resent she felt towards him, she knew that now. So the question was, what was she to do? The right way would’ve been to tell him upfront, initiate the confrontation she’d dreamed of having for all these years, but that would’ve ended all too quickly. Rose had suffered for years because of Henry’s poor decisions — she’d put herself in a vulnerable position and he’d abused the power she’d thrust into his hands. He’d completely fucked her over, and the girl would be damned if she didn’t have a little bit of fun with him. After all, she was a changed woman, and the Rosemary she’d become wasn’t anywhere near as naîve as the Rosemary who’d fallen in love with Henry MacMillan. That was her secret, though; years had passed between them, and Henry hadn’t spoken to her since. Rearranging her features to exude an expression of innocence, almost as though she wasn’t able to anticipate the topic of conversation he was almost certainly about to mention, the girl flashed him a bright smile. “I’d love that,” she sighed, almost as though he’d stolen her breath away. “The drink, and a conversation, I mean,” the girl blushed, a pretty shade of rouge aligning her cheeks as she sunk into the chair opposing his.

[henrymacmillan-blog]

He could feel a lump arise in his throat as she spoke, his eyes following her body as it slumped into the seat. For a moment he could almost see the Rosemary he’d fell in love with all those years ago, the one whose cheeks flushed crimson as he expressed his affection for her. He knew she wasn’t that girl anymore, she hadn’t been that girl for a long time. She had grown up earlier than he had, he knew that, but part of him still longed for the days when she wasn’t Rosemary Waters. When she was just his Rosie and he still had faith that she was the one who was going make him a man. He guessed in someways he was right, but it was by misfortune rather than fate. Not exactly the love story he had always dreamed of. He gestured to the barista to get two more cups of what he’d been drinking - a salted caramel latte. If he remembered right, it was one of her favorite drinks, but then things had changed since she first introduced it to him. He still ordered it at every coffee shop though. “So… how’ve you been?” Small talk, he was avoiding the conversation. He wanted to get straight to the point, it was a logical step, but his pulse was pumping fast and his hands were clammy. This was turning out to be much more difficult than he’d first assumed.