The Ferris wheel cart moves slowly, ferrying them along with it. Curtis has been on here several times with her already, and yet every time the view is more breathtaking than before. His heart is palpitating out of control, and although the sight of the sun setting over the treetops is stunning, his attention can't help but be drawn to the brunette girl sitting beside him.
Her eyes sparkle with awe and admiration – she's transfixed by the light orange hues decorating the sky. Curtis always comments on how beautiful it is, but today, he can't bring himself to say anything. They just look at the sky, and watch.
When they touch back to the ground, Curtis says, "That was fun, like always. I never get tired of riding the Ferris wheel with you." He doesn't look her in the eye this time, and he can tell this must worry her, as he always looks her in the eye when they speak. She manages to smile, though, and he busies himself with wondering how her lips feel, if they're as soft as they look.
"Yeah." She starts to turn away. "You probably have to get to work, right? So I'll-"
He grabs the back of her shirt before she can walk away.
She stops when he pulls at her shirt, tense, frozen. Curtis can't read her as well as he'd like to – but he wants to be there for her, and he wants her to know that he is. He wants her to be safe, damn it. He wants her to be with him. And he knows it's not possible – his team wouldn't allow it, the media wouldn't allow it – but he just wants to say screw them and kiss her.
"Please," he gasps. His head pounds to the beat of his heart; he can feel it throbbing in his chest, in his brain. The hat that once rested snugly atop his head has been thrown slightly askew – he doesn't mind at all, ignores everything but the feeling of her shirt in his fingers, his grip light enough for her to break away from if she tries to. She doesn't.
Rosa half-turns so she can see him out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes are brilliantly blue, he notices, not for the first time, and he vaguely processes the urge to watch her eyelashes flutter as she blinks, the way they'd feel against his cheeks. She's confused, doesn't know what to make of this sudden development – yet all Curtis can do is tremble, his words getting stuck in his mouth. He's unable to let them out and it's suffocating him.
Finally, he manages to choke, "Can you stay – just for a little while?"
He's not looking at her face. Truth be told, he's too embarrassed to. So he misses the warm smile that she offers him until she says, simply, "Sure."
Curtis doesn't know what else to do, so he takes her hand and presses the back of it to his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs against the warm skin. He trails his thumb along the ridges of her hand, presses the pad of his thumb to the center of her palm and laces his fingers through hers.
They make eye contact and Curtis doesn't miss the rosy blush on her cheeks, befitting for a rosy individual such as herself. Rosy Rosa, with her rosy cheeks.
His hand and lips are on fire. He thinks if he doesn't stop now, he'll end up doing something he'll regret; but his mind is in a haze. He just wants to be with her. He just wants to press chaste kisses against her cheeks when she leaves in the morning, to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her to his chest while they lie on folded sheets, to cuddle on the couch with a movie blaring.
"Curtis," Rosa breathes. He realizes he's been staring at her lips, and snaps back to look at her in the eyes. She makes no effort to pull away from him – she just stands there, like she's waiting to do something. For something to happen. "Tell me what's wrong."
He straightens and pulls at his jacket sleeves before pulling Rosa into a bone-crushing hug. She's quiet, but she wraps an arm around his waist and leans into him.
"I was so worried," he says, "I thought… I thought you were going to die when I saw you on Team Plasma's ship."
She smiles gently; he can feel it, though he can't see her face. "It's okay," she says, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry."
His cheeks are warm – so is the rest of his face. He recognizes a damp pressure running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin onto Rosa's shirt, and he tries to stifle it, but Rosa pats his back and he can't. He shakes feebly in her grip and wonders how the hell he managed to go the entire day without exploding.
"Hey," Rosa says, her voice calm and soothing, "it'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me. You're stuck with me."
Curtis wants to tell her he wouldn't have it any other way.
He pulls away. "Sorry," he murmurs, and he wonders if she even heard his apology. Her smile only widens and she laughs at his expression. "H-Hey!" he complains, but he can't help but grin along with her. "It's not funny!"
"Sorry," she says, rubbing at her eyes. She doesn't sound very sorry. "I just wanted you to feel better." Curtis's smile softens at that.
"I do feel better," he responds. "Thank you. I couldn't ask for a better friend." Yes, if that's what she considers him, Curtis is honored.
She holds up her pinky. "Forever," she says solemnly. "No matter where we go, we'll always be at least friends. Pinky swear."
He links his pinky finger with hers without even hesitating. "Forever," he says. It feels like a vow – and it is, in a way.
At least friends. That has to mean something. Or maybe he's looking into her words too much.
His fingertips tingle with energy. He feels alive in her presence, but at the same time, he thinks he needs to put some distance between them so they don't hurt each other. He knows Rosa will keep barging into dangerous situations, and he'll always be away for work… but still, he loves being her friend so much. He loves her so much.
Besides, he pinky swore. He can't back out of this now.
"So this means," Rosa says, flicking his forehead, "you don't have to worry about me leaving you. Because we'll always be friends, no matter what."
Curtis's smile is soft, and beautiful. He looks at her through half-lidded eyes. It makes Rosa's heart skip a beat. "Yeah."
