The Extra's Rise-Chapter 333: Blue Rose’s Heart (1)
The festival had been a whirlwind of adrenaline and grit, but claiming first place in Boundary Breach felt like a quiet victory. My muscles throbbed from the effort, and my mind hummed with the thrill as I collapsed onto my bed. Late afternoon sun poured through the window, casting long shadows across the room. I was still replaying the moment I'd crossed the finish line—cheers echoing in my ears—when a soft knock snapped me out of it.
The door creaked open, and there was Rose, leaning against the frame with a grin that sharpened her already striking features. Her dark auburn hair was a mess from the event, strands sticking out wildly, and a smudge of dirt streaked her cheek. She looked worn but alive, her energy practically crackling. She was the last of the four girls to stop by, and something about that felt right.
"First place, huh?" she said, stepping inside and nudging the door shut with her heel. "Nice work, Arthur. Congrats."
"Thanks," I said, pushing myself up a bit. "You weren't far off. I saw you out there—you're relentless."
She laughed, a low, warm sound that rolled through the room, and dropped onto the bed beside me. "Relentless doesn't always beat fast. But I'll take the compliment."
For a moment, we just sat there, the air between us buzzing with something unspoken. Her knee brushed mine, and I caught a faint whiff of sweat mixed with something floral clinging to her skin. Before I could overthink it, she turned, her hazel eyes catching mine, and leaned in.
Her lips hit mine, warm and bold, and my hands slid to her waist like they'd known the way all along. She tasted faintly of salt and the day's exertion, her breath catching as I kissed her back, deeper, hungrier. My fingers pressed into her sides, pulling her closer until she was half in my lap, her hands climbing my chest to grip my shoulders. The mattress creaked under us as she shifted, her lean, strong frame pressing against me.
I tilted my head, kissing the curve of her neck, and she let out a soft gasp, her fingers tightening in my shirt. The room shrank around us, the air growing thick as we fell into it—lips crashing, hands roaming, my pulse hammering under her touch. She didn't hesitate like the others might have. There was no second-guessing, no careful steps. Rose knew what she wanted, and right now, that was me. Her confidence pulled me in, made my head spin.
"I waited all day for this," she murmured against my skin, her voice rough and low, sending a jolt down my spine. "Watching you out there, pushing past everyone…" Her teeth grazed my jaw, light but deliberate. "Made it hard to focus."
I chuckled, my hands sliding along her back, feeling the warmth of her through her shirt. "So that's why you came in third? Too busy staring at my stunning victory?"
She pulled back just enough to shoot me a fake glare, her eyes glinting with that fire I'd seen on the course. "I came in third because you and that other guy were monsters. But yeah, you didn't help." A slow, teasing smile curved her lips. "You looked good out there."
Before I could toss back a quip, she kissed me again, her hands tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to draw a low sound from my throat. The admission—that she'd been watching me, thinking about me—lit a spark in my chest. I deepened the kiss, my hands slipping to her hips, gripping the fabric there as she pressed closer. Her body was solid, shaped by years of training, and I could feel the strength in her even now.
She pushed me back, and I let her, my shoulders hitting the mattress as she climbed over me, straddling my hips. The fading sunlight caught her hair, turning the edges a soft bronze, dust from the arena still clinging to her like a badge. I couldn't look away.
"You're staring," she said, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
"Hard not to," I shot back, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.
Something flickered in her expression—something softer—before she leaned down and kissed me again, slower this time, deliberate. Her hands slid to my chest, fingers splaying over my shirt as she explored the shape of me. I could feel the heat of her palms through the fabric, steady and sure. My own hands traced up her arms, brushing over the faint lines of muscle, then back down to rest at her waist.
She shifted, her lips moving to my neck again, and I tilted my head to give her space, my breath hitching as she found a spot just below my ear. Her hair brushed my cheek, soft despite the tangles, and I slid a hand into it, holding her there for a moment as she kissed me. The rhythm of it was easy, natural—like we'd done this a hundred times before.
"Rose," I murmured, my voice rough as her lips grazed my collarbone, lingering over a fresh bruise from the event.
"Hmm?" she hummed against my skin, not stopping.
I grinned, despite the heat pooling in my chest. "You're gonna leave a mark."
"Good," she said, pulling back to flash me a wicked smile. "Something to remember me by."
I laughed, low and genuine, and pulled her back down, kissing her hard. Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in just enough to feel, and I rolled us slightly so she was on her side, pressed close. Our legs tangled, her knee sliding between mine as we kept going, lips and breath and the occasional soft sound breaking the quiet. My hand found the small of her back, pressing her tighter against me, and she arched into it, her fingers curling into my hair again.
Time slipped away, the kisses slowing but never stopping, each one lingering a little longer than the last. Her lips were soft now, less urgent, and I could feel her heartbeat through her shirt, steady against my chest. My own pulse had calmed, but the warmth of her stayed, grounding me.
Eventually, she pulled back, just an inch, her forehead resting against mine. Her breath fanned over my face, warm and uneven, and I opened my eyes to find her watching me, hazel irises catching the last of the dimming light.
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"You're different with me," she said quietly, her hand sliding to rest on my jaw. "Not as wound up."
"Maybe because you don't poke at me like the others do," I said, half-joking, half-serious.
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her mouth. "I don't need to figure you out, Arthur. I just like this—what's here."
Her words hit me, simple and true. Rose didn't demand anything, didn't dig for more than I gave. She took me as I was, and that was enough. I kissed her again, soft this time, and she melted into it, her hand slipping to my chest.
We shifted, lying side by side now, her head tucked against my shoulder. My arm draped over her, fingers brushing lazily through her auburn hair as the room darkened around us. The sun had dipped below the horizon while we'd been lost in each other, and neither of us bothered to turn on a light. Her breathing evened out, warm against my neck, and I felt the weight of the day finally settle, replaced by something calmer, quieter.
We stayed like that, tangled in the sheets, the world outside fading to nothing.