Rose Casson would wait a thousand hours just to sit with Tom Levin in silence.
She often thought about this. It has been 1 year, 2 months, 1 week, 4 days, and 4 hours since she last saw him when he came to England on Christmas day.
She spent most of her time planning letters and concentrating on drawings to send him. Indigo, her brother, would also let her say things in his emails to Tom.
"Tell him that mum bought chocolate éclairs. Which are really good. And that I think it's great because it's not every day she gets us cake-y things for no reason. Say that."
"I've already written that."
"Then edit it to sound like I told you to write it."
"Okay."
"Good."
She acts impatient and often asks darling daddy if he's going to New York, but really she's just happy knowing she'll see him again one day. She doesn't even need to talk to him. She just likes seeing his face, hearing him play the guitar, calling her Permanent Rose, star gazing with him wearing her infamous glasses, and would really like to hug him. Or kiss him. (But that was her tween mind talking and it's not like she would share the fact she would like to do that with anyone except maybe Joseph The Hamster since he stays clear of everyone else and wouldn't tell. If he's still alive. The Hamster Book they have says he should be dead by now, but you can sometimes still hear scratching sounds in the walls. Not necessarily Joseph. Rose still had some hope for him though.) She's not really impatient though. Well she is. But she knows he's going to come back to see them At Some Point In Time. She knows this because he had told her.
"Don't worry, Permanent Rose, I'll see you again at some point in time. Not tomorrow, but not in 5 years either. Promise you'll be patient for me and not moan too much?"
So.