a/n: what the hell did I write?
a/n: a lot of this is open-ended, so take it as you will.

+standard disclaimer

in hindsight

(to think, there was a time that I loved you. — black, rosa)

In some respects, Rosa was right. She'd always been right, and she'd always be right, which made everything hurt on a higher magnitude, even though it wasn't supposed to. The entire point of their relationship had been something so insignificant the end result would barely be noticed. It was her idea, anyway, because flings—she could do flings—flings didn't hurt like hell the next morning.

So she's not sure when whatever they were doing turned into something more, and she's a little bit terrified to pinpoint that time. Rosa's furious, too, because it shouldn't have transformed into something other than a fling. They had been silly kids doing something gloriously wrong and yeah, it felt good at the time, but now? Rosa wishes she could go back in time and shake herself and scream, what the hell are you doing?!

Honestly, Black was a decent human being, even though it's partially his fault (and she wants to blame him, god she does, but that's not right, because she let it happen). It's true he's a manipulative bitch, but that's kind of what happens when you become a hero—Rosa would know. God, would she know.

Really, even though Hugh insisted that Black took advantage of her, Rosa knows it's still partially her fault, and, if anything, she took advantage of him. It almost sickens her, how she entangled herself upon him, knowing what she did, but she won't—doesn't—feel bad about what she did. How could she? He still chose to pursue whatever relationship they had. He was broken and jaded and alone and she was lost and confused and—

well, they only really had each other.

Things were good—they were good—for a while, and then White came back. Everything had gone to shit pretty fast, but that had been okay because they had been so, so self destructive, so toxic. The end was like a high, a rush of adrenaline that Rosa could've lived off of forever, but something felt wrong and out of place and things hurt.

In hindsight, everything that happened—everything was inevitable.

a/n: drop me a line?