Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

From the initial normalcy to the blossoming of a faint blush on her cheeks, and then to the deepening red that spread all the way to her ears, the entire transformation unfolded in less than ten seconds. Each stage of change was witnessed by Roseanne, and it was truly

hard not to be taken aback.

Owen murmured, "...might be a bit stuffy in the car."

Quick as a flash, Roseanne rolled down her window, "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah."

...Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

After dropping her off, Owen remembered an experiment he had initiated midway through the day and hadn't yet concluded, prompting his return to the lab.

Roseanne sprawled on the couch, the adrenaline rush now subsided, leaving her feeling as if her bones had turned to jelly, wishing she could meld into the couch.

Closing her eyes, the car scene involuntarily flashed through her mind. The details seemed magnified tenfold. She recalled Owen's distinctively jointed hand, the tenderness in his touch when it rested on her head, giving her the illusion of being cared for and encouraged... Perhaps it wasn't an illusion?

He really was encouraging her.

But that was... all there was to it.

Roseanne lay on the couch, a simple tilt of her eyes brought the ceiling into view.

The former tenant had left the place in a bit of a state, with traces of smoke-stained yellow and splattered mud.

Even though Roseanne had tried to fix it up, covering it with wallpaper or using light fixtures for concealment, those unsightly marks stubbornly remained, indelible.

At first glance, it might not be noticeable. But if you looked closer or turned the lights up bright, all the ugliness was exposed.

Rather than letting others discover its unsightly aspects, to be loathed and despised, it was better to maintain a distance from the start.

Not getting too close meant not seeing too clearly.

Realizing this, Roseanne let out a long sigh of relief, touching her chest.

Good, her heart rate had returned to normal.

She stood up and headed to the bathroom.

A bath and a good night's sleep were what she needed. Everything else could wait until tomorrow! And if not tomorrow, then the day after. If not the day after, then the day after that. And so on, day by day, forever.

Ah, how wonderful!

...

Another busy week passed.

Sunday, Roseanne's day off.

She felt bad for not returning Leda's call and, as Leda was also off work, they decided to catch a movie together.

Just in time for the tail end of the holiday season, Roseanne picked out the best-reviewed movie available.

Settling down, they were greeted by a cast of familiar comedic faces. Even Roseanne, who wasn't much for following celebrities, could name the lead actors.

Leda had recently become

infatuated with a young star's looks.

Coincidentally, he made a cameo in the movie, rumored to be a

charming murderer, which she was eagerly anticipating.

Roseanne grabbed a bucket of popcorn and two sodas, and they laughed heartily as they watched.

The movie was great, with plenty of laughs. The only disappointment for Leda was that her long-awaited handsome murderer appeared for only a blink-and-miss-it two seconds. "Talk about a brief cameo, huh? Just a quick sweep across the screen and poof, gone."

Roseanne remarked, "Even for just two seconds, he was pretty handsome."

Leda perked up, "You don't usually fangirl, right? Has this young star actually caught your eye? I've sent him gifts worth twenty thousand and even got his contact. Want it? I can hook you up."

"No need, he's too young for my taste," Roseanne casually brushed off, seeing Leda's suggestive winks. Leda sensed something, "Too young, not your type? So, what's your type? Not the young ones? More mature?" Roseanne paused, pushing Leda's increasingly intrusive face away, "...no one."