Rose stepped into her apartment, locking the door behind her before leaning against it with a sigh. The day had been long, but it wasn't just exhaustion pressing down on her—it was something else. A weight that had settled in her chest since she walked out of that building. Since she heard those words.
She shook her head, pushing off the door. Stop overthinking. It was just a job interview. A weird one, but still—just a job interview.
She dropped her bag on the couch and ran her fingers through her hair, exhaling sharply. Her thoughts were tangled. The questions they asked, the strange pause before they ended it, the feeling that she was missing something. What did they mean?
As she crossed the room, her eyes flicked to the mirror near the entrance. Just for a second, she thought she saw something move behind her. A shadow, a flicker. She turned quickly, but nothing was there—just her reflection. Just her own tired eyes staring back at her.
Her fingers curled at her sides. You're exhausted, Rose. That's all.
A sharp knock on the door made her jump. Her pulse quickened as she turned toward it, hesitating. It was late. Who—
Another knock, this time louder.
She opened it.
Celeste stood there, arms crossed, head tilted in that way she always did when she knew something was wrong. Her auburn hair was a mess, as if she had rushed over. Her green eyes studied Rose, sharp yet warm.
"You look like hell," Celeste said.
Rose barely had time to respond before Celeste pulled her into a tight hug.
And for the first time that night, Rose let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
---
Celeste tossed her jacket over the chair and dropped onto the couch, stretching her legs across the cushions. "Alright, spill. What happened?"
Rose hesitated, sinking onto the armrest of the couch. "It was… weird."
"Weird how?"
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to piece it together. "The interview. The questions weren't normal. It was like they weren't even assessing my skills, just… something else. And at the end, they told me I'd hear from them soon, but the way they said it—it felt like I was being warned instead of reassured."
Celeste watched her carefully. Then, she scoffed. "Sounds like a bunch of corporate weirdos."
Rose let out a weak chuckle, shaking her head. "Maybe."
Celeste grinned and threw a cushion at her. "No 'maybe.' You're overthinking again."
"Probably."
Celeste leaned back, resting her arms behind her head. "If it was something bad, you wouldn't have walked out of there. So chill. Worst case, you don't get the job, and you apply somewhere that doesn't have secret cult vibes."
Rose rolled her eyes, but she couldn't shake the unease.
---
As Celeste flipped through channels, Rose watched her, the warmth of nostalgia settling in.
How long had she been by her side? It felt like forever.
Her mind drifted back to the orphanage.
The first time she saw Celeste, they were six. It was raining, and Celeste had been standing by the window, staring out at the storm as if she was challenging it.
"Why do you stare at it?" young Rose had asked.
Celeste had turned, grinning. "Because I want to race it."
"Race the rain?"
Celeste just laughed, grabbed Rose's hand, and pulled her outside.
Straight into the downpour.
That was the beginning.
---
Rose snapped back to the present when she felt Celeste nudge her foot. "You're spacing out again."
"I was just… thinking."
Celeste gave her a look. "Well, stop. You do that too much."
Rose let out a small laugh. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're dramatic. Now go to sleep."
She didn't argue. As she settled into bed, she could hear Celeste on the couch, mumbling something under her breath.
Rose didn't catch the words.
But as exhaustion pulled her under, she could've sworn it sounded like, You don't have to know everything, Ro.
She was too tired to ask what she meant.