At the devils fingertips
rosie lue jane could never understand the warmth of authentic love. love not from a mother--nor friend, but from eyes filled with nothing but desire, need, and fascination. she can't recall a distinct moment where someone made her heart flutter with infatuation---not even one.
she lived as such for many years. that her views of love were broken, her devotion was surely too much for any normal person to handle, that there was nothing to be done about it, and a part of her accepted this.
but then something strange happened.
being sent away to a grandiloquent university, ad astra, was, at first glimpse, her worst fear. though the idea of astra being home soon sunk into her bones.
no. that's incorrect.
astra only became home when rosie basked in the solacing gaze theo partridge lended her, his tone sweet like honey, though his words as dark as his past.
it was unhealthy...
but he was her home.
as things may seemed normal, beneath rests defiled secrets. secrets about her home, theo partridge. ones as to why he was infatuated from the moment he saw her.
