Monroe let out a deep sigh as he tied the bow tie around his neck. He was nervous. Him and Rosalee had not been dating long but she had the idea for them to go to a dance club. He already knew what everyone would be thinking, he was a little old to be at a dance club, but with Rosalee he didn't care what others thought. His mind was on her and stayed on her as he got ready for a "night out on the town" (which is what Rosalee called it).
Rosalee was so excited that Monroe couldn't say no. He would have rather spent the night with her in his living room talking or listening to music together. But he would never say no to her. The fact a girl as beautiful as Rosalee would consider a man like Monroe made him want to do anything to keep her.
The many clocks through his house ticked on, reminding him that time was moving quickly and he would need to leave soon to pick Rosalee up from her apartment. Another brief sigh left his lips as he fussed with his hair and ran his hands down the front of him to smooth his (freshly ironed button up) flatter than it already was.
He looked down at his wristwatch and quickly grabbed his coat. He climbed into his old beetle and took in the scent. The smell of his old car was grounding and something that helped him focus on how excited he was to see and be with Rosalee over the fact of how nervous he was to be going out to a place where Rosalee would be expecting him to dance.
As he pulled into the parking lot her apartment, he could see her already standing outside. He smiled at the sight of her, she was stunning. She was wearing a tight red dress (she knew what the color red did to him) that came right above her knees and thin straps that rested on her shoulders. Her hair was down and curled. She held a small black clutch in her left hand and used it to wave at him when she saw him approaching.
He paused the beetle directly in front of her and allowed her to climb in. As she opened the door and leaned down, the smell of her crept over to Monroe. She always smelled amazing to him, Fauchsbau always smelled very similar to him, but Rosalee had a different scent, one that he found to make her even more attractive.
"Hello" she said with a soft smile. Monroe smiled back and returned the greeting. Rosalee buckled in and then looked at him. He found himself staring and could tell by the look on Rosalee's face that he had been staring for quite some time.
He quickly looked forward and cleared his throat. "Alright, we're on our way" he did not want to acknowledge the staring, it would just make it more awkward. He began driving to the dance club Rosalee had picked out.
There was not much talk in the car, just the typical "how are you" and small talk exchanges. Monroe wanted to say more, but his mind was on the club, on Rosalee's dress, on the smell of her, it all seemed to be running through his head all at once and he couldn't muster up many thoughts or even the words to talk to her out of sheer anxiety, stress, and lust.
When they arrived 10 minutes later, Monroe parked and got out. He took the moment to smooth down his shirt again and to take a deep breath. He went around his old car and opened the door for Rosalee and put a handout for her to grab and use to get out of the car. As she did, he took the time to look her up and down and take in her outfit even more, she was wearing red heels to match the red of the dress and even had her nails painted, something that was not common for Rosalee.
After she was out of the car and the door was shut, Monroe went to let her hand go but she tightened her grip, a way of signaling to him that she wanted to hold hands. He could feel his face turn warm and hoped his hands didn't get sweaty. They were still relatively new in their relationship and hadn't done much, despite making out when Rosalee was sick (something neither of the pair acknowledges).
They quietly made their way to line of people waiting outside the club. They continued to make small talk as the line moved closer to the door. Rosalee never let go of Monroe's hand, not even when they got inside the crowded and loud building.
She guided him to the bar and flagged over the bar tender. She ordered herself a mixed drink and ordered Monroe a beer. When they were handed the drinks, he thanked her, and they made their way to a small table on the side of the dance floor, their hands finally separating for the first time in 20 minutes.
His hand felt lonely at the loss of hers, but he chose to move his focus to his beer. He took a couple of sips as she drank from her straw. The pair was quiet, and Monroe felt awkward and decided to break the silence with a fun fact about the drink she ordered.
"Did you know that mojitos were the favorite drink of Ernest Hemingway." She smiled as she quickly finished her sip and nodded. "That's so interesting". He nodded back to her and continued on with his 'fun facts'.
"Also, mojitos are considered one of the oldest mixed drinks, dating back to over 500 years ago." Monroe knew many facts about different mixed drinks because of a gift he had gotten during Christmas one year that held kits to make different drinks and each one came with a card of facts.
Rosalee politely smiled and nodded again, taking a much larger drink this time. The silence fell between them again until Rosalee stood up, "I'm going to get another drink, do you want something a little stronger."
Monroe let out a slight chuckle and said, "Rosalee Calvert, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were trying to get me drunk." She smiled at him, giving him a wink before walking away. Monroe couldn't help but stare at her as she walked away. The way she looked in that dress made him feel warm and made him want to relive the kiss they shared.
He sat quietly, letting his nails 'tink' against the glass of his beer bottle. When he saw Rosalee again, she was carrying a significant number of shots over to their table. He could feel his jaw visibly drop at the sight and he had to find the words to begin speaking about the amount of alcohol she just bought. "Okay, now I really do think you're trying to get me drunk".
She put a finger to her lips and let out a soft "shhh" before pushing a shot over to him and sitting down, grabbing her own. The pair each held a glass and 'clinked' them together before taking the shots. Monroe felt his face contort but he noticed Rosalee took it like a champ. They continued to do this until each of them had taken 3 shots each.
Monroe could instantly feel the booze hitting his system. The shots were straight tequila, and he normally drank very light beer, something that took quite a lot to get him even tipsy. He could tell Rosalee was starting to loosen up too because her face looked a little flushed and her movement became a little looser.
There were still 2 shots on the table and Rosalee pushed one of them to Monroe. "Oh no, I think I am done with the tequila shots." He pushed the drink back over to her and she smiled "Oh come on, for me" she said, pushing out her bottom lip into a pout and once again pushing the drink towards him. He sighed, knowing he couldn't resist her. He grabbed the drink and quickly downed it before she could drink hers. He wiped his mouth and placed the glass down on the table.
She smiled at him, taking her shot, and leaning back in her seat. This number of shots is nearing alcohol poisoning and even he knew she, nor he, should have anymore drinks. He could tell she knew that as well as she no longer was offering to get drinks. She stood up, wobbly, and held out a hand. "Care to dance" the words came out just as wobbly as she stood, and he got up and clasped her hand firmly.
He was taller and larger than Rosalee, so the alcohol was not hitting with the same level of intensity. They walked together to the dance floor where many people were dancing to a song he didn't recognize. She began to dance, and he stood there, watching and trying to figure out how he should be dancing to this song.
This was not the first time Monroe had been to a dance club. He found himself in a club many times in his early 20s, but that was years ago, and he is a completely different man. He began to sway back and forth, awkwardly. He attempted to focus his attention on Rosalee, who was dancing in a very drunk sort of way, but she had a big smile on her face. "There we go!" She said happily, reacting to Monroe 'loosening up' and 'dancing' with her.
He smiled back at her, continuing to sway as she grabbed one of his hands and wrapping his arm around her so that she was resting her back against his chest and stomach. If he wasn't already warm and flushed from all the shots they took, she would be able to tell that this was causing Monroe to blush.
The pair danced together like this until the song ended and another one began. Rosalee took the time to turn around and face him. There was a brief exchange of smiles before Rosalee violently retched forward covering her mouth. Monroe's eyes widened as he grabbed her and forced their way through the crowd.
He was not sure how, but she made it into the women's restroom and into a stall before finally vomiting into toilet. Monroe stood above her, leaning to grab her hair, making sure none of what she was letting out got on her. Rosalee was hunched over the toilet on her knees and when she was done, she sat down completely on the 'disgusting floor' (Monroe thought to himself) and looked up at him.
Despite having thrown up the entirety of her stomach content, a soft smile was still on Rosalee's face. He could feel, for just a moment, that he was suddenly sober and standing above the girl he had fallen for so quickly. It rushed into him all at once how much he loved this girl, how much he wanted to do nothing more than kiss her and be with her, how much he wanted nothing more than to tell her how much he loved her and wanted more than they had now. But he couldn't. Not now, not while she was drunk and on the floor of a disgusting club bathroom, covered in vomit.
He grabbed toilet paper and wiped her mouth, throwing it with the rest of the vomit and flushed the toilet. "Alright, Rosalee, we should get going." She threw her arms up, wiggling away from him as he tried to help her up. Despite throwing up, she did not want to go home and abandon the night with him.
"Come on, Rosalee." He finally got her up and felt himself become wobbly. The drinks were finally setting in. He had never planned on drinking this much, otherwise he would not have driven them to the bar. He knew it was up to them to get her home, or at least to his house for her to rest on his couch. He just needed to get him and her out of this place.
He fumbled with his arm wrapped around her waist, walking them back to their table so he could use his phone to get them an rideshare. Rosalee sat leaned back in her seat, giggling to herself. He was typing out the name of the club when he suddenly felt Rosalee scooting into the booth seat with him. She got her arm on the table and leaned her cheek against her fist and smiled at him.
"Even drunk you want to take care of me." She said, laughing again once her sentence was finished. He glanced up at her and then back to his phone, struggling to focus on what he was needing to do. It was like the 4 shots of tequila in 45 minutes were hitting him like a bus. She continued to giggle at herself, making little comments about Monroe's appearance. The only reason he could tell this is what she was saying was because with each comment she touched him in the place she was talking about.
"I love your bow tie" She touched the tie, and he did not react, finally finishing the ride share request and getting a notification that they were on their way. "Alright Rosalee let's go get some air" he said, pushing against her causing her to slide a little along the seat of the booth. She stuck out her bottom lip again and said "But- I don't want any air". She leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips. Monroe could smell the vomit and lightly pushed her away.
"Come on, Rosalee, you're drunk." He said, finally getting her up and out of the booth and standing alongside her. "And- so are you. This is mutual." She said, wrapping her arms loosely around her neck and trying to pull him back in for a vomit smelling kiss. He unwrapped her arms and shook his head, grabbing her hand and beginning to pull her toward the door.
"Rosalee, please, let's just get you home" She pouted as he got her outside. This time it was him not loosening the grasp between their two hands. He took his phone out of his pocket and saw the driver was pulling into the parking lot. Monroe (politely) forced her into the car and climbed in after her. He fumbled with her buckle and then his own and finally felt a calm wipe over him that he was getting her home.
The car ride was filled with Rosalee smiling drunk and taking a finger and running it down the side Monroe's face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, to get her into her apartment and take her up on whatever she was offering, but he wouldn't- he couldn't.
When they pulled into the parking lot of Rosalee's apartments, she began to pout again, unhappy at the sight of her building. Monroe climbed out and circled around the car, getting Rosalee out. He grabbed a 20 from his pocket and handed it to the driver and allowed them to leave. He did not know how long it would take to get her to sleep or if he even felt comfortable leaving her like this, so he only ordered the ride share to take him to her place and he would order another one if necessary.
As they stood drunk and cold in the middle of the parking lot, Rosalee let out a soft whine. "I don't want to go home". She stomped her heel into the concrete and accidentally broke it, nearly falling over and being caught by Monroe. This made her sadder than she already was and she let her bottom lip out again and looked at him. "My heel-" she said, taking it off and holding it up for him. She stood lopsided and sad, and Monroe sighed.
"You need to go get some rest" he said, putting a hand up and pointing it in the direction of her apartment. She stared at him for a second, bottom lip still out and then began walking. There was a limp to her walk as she still had on her other heel, so her height kept shifting from really tall to suddenly not. He couldn't help himself when he audibly laughed at the sight, and she flicked her head back at him and held up her broken shoe "Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean I don't know how to use this".
He rolled his eyes, scooping up the very drunk Rosalee and carrying her to the door. Despite being drunk, he felt comfortable enough to carry her. She didn't fight as she was carried, which he was incredibly thankful for. She snuggled herself into his chest and closed her eyes, when he looked down at her and saw this, he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. She was so beautiful, despite throwing up and being a drunk mess.
When they reached the door, Monroe said he was going to put her down so he could get the door open. Again, she did not fight him. She let him put her down and handed over the clutch (she somehow kept a hand on the entire time) and he quickly grabbed out the key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and then got down, grabbing ahold of the single heel still on Rosalee and removed it, allowing her to walk more steadily.
She walked into the apartment and dropped herself onto the couch. He stood in the doorway simply watching her and was thinking about his options. He could stay with her, making sure she didn't vomit again and choke on it. Or he can assume she is alright for the night. He was lost in thought about these options and finally Rosalee interrupted him.
"Come 'ere" She said, her words slurring and she giggles. He complied and shut the door behind him, moving across the living room to stand above her. She put a hand up, waving him down toward her. He again complied and sat next to her on the couch. "Yes?"
He was quickly given an answer by a very drunk Rosalee pouncing on him with a kiss. This time was not like in the bar. It was more rough, more wet, and there was more vomit smell to it. But Monroe was also drunk (not as much as her) and it didn't click in his brain what was happening until she was running hands through his hair and trying to stick her tongue in his mouth.
He pulled himself away from her, gently pushing her back and she let out a soft whine. "Rosalee, you need to get some sleep. I promise you'll feel better, this- we can't do this" He was using a lot of hand motions before getting up and beginning to pace (messily). She stared up at him, again pouting. "But I want to do this."
He felt his face flush with her words and his body get even warmer than the booze made him. He paused for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm sorry Rosalee, you're drunk, I'm drunk, we can't- it's like… taking advantage of you." He said, sitting next to he on the couch again.
"But I want that-" she said, quickly filling the space between them and kissing him again. Monroe quickly separated them this time and stood up. He shook his head and ran and hand through his hair. "Rosalee, you don't mean that. Let's get you to bed."
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I don't wanna go to bed. I want to keep having fun." He scoffed when she said this, again shaking his head at her words. He sighed softly and pushed a hand against his forehead. "Rosalee, please. I want you to go to bed. You- you'll feel so much better."
She uncrossed her arms and closed her eyes. He was hoping she would get up and go to bed, but instead she put her arms up like a toddler and softly said "carry me". He complied once more, like he had been all night and picked her up and carried her to her bed. This was a side of Rosalee he hadn't seen; it was like the time she was sick but- just different. She was more childish and relied on him. He liked having her need him, but he just wanted her to go to bed.
He laid her gently on her bed and pulled the covers over her. He debated on changing her but felt that may be too far for two people who haven't moved past a couple of kisses when the brain of the person initiating wasn't all there. She laid quietly in the bed, and he did his best to leave the room just as quiet. As he was about to reach the doorway, she said "Wait- come 'ere".
He turned around to face her and walked back over to the bed and very sleepy Rosalee. She looked up at him and again waved for him to get closer. He complied, but this time kept enough room that if she tried to lean up to kiss him, he could move back.
"You should lay with me" a drunken smile fell across Rosalee's lip. Monroe shook his head, "Rosalee, I already told you, I think you need to get some rest". He ran a hand over her hair, removing pieces from her face as her smile faded.
"But I'm not tired." She said, a yawn following her statement. He chuckled and brushed a hand down her cheek. "I'm going to go lay in the living room, I am not leaving, but I do not feel comfortable staying in here with you while you're in this state." Monroe's brain may have been fuzzy, but he knew he couldn't stay in her room, otherwise he may just do what both wanted, and he knew it was wrong.
She nodded, rolling onto her side to face away from him and he made his way out of the room. He plopped down on her couch and rubbed his face with both of his hands. He was exhausted and the adrenaline of trying to keep Rosalee safe as well as coping with all of the kisses from tonight was fading and causing Monroe to feel like he was going to crash.
He began to unbutton his shirt, though he was having an incredibly hard time fumbling with each button, he finally got them done and took it off, leaving him in a tank top and dress pants. He removed his shoes and socks and laid down on her couch. Thankfully she kept a small throw on the back so he wouldn't have to use his shirt as a blanket.
He did his best to remain up for some time to listen to Rosalee in case she puked or tried getting up again, but as soon as his eyes closed for even 10 seconds he was out.
He woke up the next morning to the smell of food being cooked. He opened his eyes and the night suddenly flooded back into him all at once. The drinks, the kissing, the carrying, and the painful headache he now had. He was too old to be drinking like a college freshman.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He grabbed his shirt and put it on, not buttoning it. "Hi" He heard faintly from across the room. He looked over to see Rosalee, who was now wearing a tight tank top and shorts and had her hair done back in a ponytail. She was holding a cup of coffee and walked over to him, handing him the cup and then sitting with him on the couch.
"Hi" He replied, sipping the drink. She leaned against him. She was breathing softly, and Monroe could tell she no longer smelled like vomit. She had brushed her teeth and smelled like mint toothpaste and mouth wash. Much better than vomit.
"So-" She sat up, shifting her body to face him. "Sorry about last night. I thought I could handle tequila better." He choked back a drink of the coffee he was taking and shook his head, placing the cup down on the coffee table in front of them. "No, Rosalee, you're fine. I mean, I wasn't handling it any better."
She smiled and scoffed at him, "You're just saying that. I can tell by how you look and the fact you slept on my couch that last night was rough." He felt as rough as she described him to look, and he nodded.
"Yeah, it was a little rough. But you're safe, I'm safe. My car is hopefully safe. I should get going" He began to stand up and Rosalee grabbed his hand, stopping him from moving past his upright position.
"I made you breakfast" she said, staring up at him with eyes that felt larger than usual. He knew he couldn't leave, especially when she had done something so sweet. He told her he would stay and eat with her but needed to get back to his car soon before it got towed or taken for spare parts.
They walked together to the kitchen where he was met with toast, vegan pancakes, and even vegan sausage. Something Rosalee said she had in her freezer since the night she found out about his diet. They ate their breakfast together, Rosalee choking down the diet she wasn't used to while Monroe enjoyed the meal she had made. The pair quietly ate breakfast, the clinking of silverware of ceramic breaking the silence.
Rosalee put her fork onto her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled goofily at Monroe, "we should do all of this again sometime."