I was just a 3-year-old little girl when I met my best friend Blake Roberts. Oh, I'm Rosaline Evans. I forgot that.

Blake and I met in kindergarten, when I had a set of twin tails and my favorite vivid pink dress on to show my classmates. But there was a boy, who got jealous and cut my dress with a pair of scissors. I was almost hurt, but Blake protected me from him. Since then, we've been the best of friends.

Every moment with. He is my precious memory. Blake is my treasure, and so am I. I'm not too sure about Blake, but I sometimes have feelings for him. On and off. Like, I love to stay with him, but I don't want to show it at the same time. It's been going on for years.

I wonder.

We were in 2nd grade when I first got jealous. A girl confessed to Blake that she loved him, and I was there, right around the corner of the hallway, waiting for Blake to come over, so we could go home together, like every day. He always loved to go home with me.

"Blake, please? We can be boyfriend and girlfriend! Why not, right?" that's exactly what I heard. Those two boyfriend and girlfriend phrases. I couldn't believe my ears.

"Sorry. My heart's already been taken for years. No other girl can take that spot". That's what he replied, after a tear fell out of her eye.

"WHY??!!??!! WHY BLAKE??? I'M POPULAR! You can be popular too!!!" she blurted. I jumped, so I hid, but still listened.

"I don't need popularity for whom I want to be with. I just need her." he was so calm. "I need to go. Sorry. I hope you'll understand. You're just not the one for me." I was glad it wasn't her who he chose. But I was jealous of this "girl" he was talking about. Still, I didn't want to break the ice between us, so I didn't say a word about his love life since then.

"Rosaline? Sorry to keep you waiting." I know he purposely walked around the hallway to make it look like I didn't see anything. I just know. But I know he was just protecting me. That's exactly why I love him. As a friend, best friend, a brother, and hopefully, a lover.

...----------------...

Blake's POV

I was also just 3 when I met Rosaline Evans. She was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, even as a kindergartener. I just knew she was the one for me. I needed her. Not only that, but I couldn't believe a kid in our class tried to cut her. Like, where the fuck where the teachers? I didn't get it. Truth is, I fell on top of her and accidentally kissed her breasts. She didn't notice because she didn't push me off or any of that shit. I was happy, rather than embarrassed.

Rosaline is just too perfect. So I perfected myself as well. I changed my fucking hair, clothes, everything. Just to make her love me. But all I could change was make her my best friend. I need her. I want her. Just...

I'm crazy in love with her. She got those looks. Oak brown hair, chestnut eyes, cherry lips, and all that beautiful shit. Year by year, she just grows beautiful. I always love holding her hand, walking everywhere. She won't look at me. It's okay. We're both scared, I think.

I love how we are. Like, it's an unbreakable bond. But, we're seniors now...

Rosaline's POV

But we're seniors now... I want to go to prom with him. Will he accept?

It's been 15 years since Blake and I met. Every day was like a little diamond in my treasure box that I love to keep to myself.

On a Saturday morning, it was raining. Usually, Blake comes over for movies, or regular hang-outs. But today, he's kinda late. I wonder what's keeping him... not that I'm worried or 100 percent expecting him to come, but he's just not here, and I don't like being without him. He is my safe space. Being in his arms is the best thing ever. I know, it's a thing that a couple does, but it soothes me, and he can't bear to see me uncomfortable. It'll make him uncomfortable as well.

Thunderstorms cracks. I jump up as I am already catching up on me and Blake's favorite TV show. Not to worry, it's auto recorded. I cover myself under my pink fluffy blanket, shivering from the fear of thunder.

"Somebody's still afraid of thunderstorms, hmm?" I know that voice anywhere. And he's doing that smirk.

"Blake ! You're here! I thought you'd left me." I hug him real tight that my breast is pressed on his chest.

Blake's POV

Yet again, her breast is pressed on my chest, isn't it? She's so cute like this. Why can't I just confess? I'm a fucking idiot. Like, I've been with her for 15 fucking years, and what? No love? Ridiculous...better yet, hear this: I've never had a girlfriend myself in my personal life. Rosaline is my everything. She's my queen.

"Hey, I got snacks. I figured you started watching before me and finished the bowl of Mike popcorn. Or am I early enough?" I think I'm right. I know her too well.

"How, huh? Yes, I do want more popcorn, and I started watching, like halfway." she took the popcorn bag. Then threw it on the table. She then pulled me to her room.

"What? Hey, I'm going to fall if you pull me like this, you know? I can't get hurt now. It's football season." I trip, just as I said. But I purposely pull her on me. "See? You could've gotten hurt too. I care about you too much. You can't be too childish, okay?" I hugged her for about a good 3 minutes, literally on the staircase. She smells like roses, literally, like her name. I love it. I run my fingers through her hair. I don't like it sometimes. It's dyed to light brown. I miss the oak brown she was born with. "Hey, when and why did you dye your hair again?"

"Oh, ninth grade, and um, my, um..." she stopped, biting her left hands' fingernails.

"Stop. Don't. I remember now. It's fine." I remember, she had a boyfriend in ninth grade, not that she loved him, at all. He was a possessive guy. He didn't like her hair color. Just the hair. So he demanded her to dye it. it's getting washed off bit by bit, and she broke up with him because of my existence. Should I ask her to completely wash off? I mean, I hate this color scheme on her head. I can't bear it. But I don't wanna force her.

"What are you thinking about?" she burst my bubble. "You look a little spaced out. Are you okay?" there, again. She looks at me with those eyes. The world's most irresistible ones. Too beautiful.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Why are you taking me to your room?" I ask in confusion.

"Your face says it." she giggles like a little girl does, which she used to. It's adorable, and I never want to share that with anyone. And I know exactly what she's thirsty for. I'm just not sure...

Rosaline's POV

......If I'm ready...

I can tell that Rosaline wants to lay beside me. Not just like a sleepover, but like, lay with me. She doesn't need to tell me she loves me in that way, but I know it. I don't quite understand, but whatever she's feeling, I wish it's happening every second of my life.

"Alright. Up we go, princess" I pick her up and carry her to her room and place her on her bed carefully like glass. "Rose? You good?" I can hear her breath from her laying down all the way to my ears when I'm just standing and looking at her like a manikin.

Rosaline's POV

I'm breathing heavily for some reason. Am I nervous? Maybe that's it. He carries me like this only for special occasions. Well, that's what I like to call, at least.

"I'm fine. Just... I didn't know you were capable of carrying me all the way. Like, you were only able to do it for only about 10 seconds when we were younger. But—"

"Yeah, Rose. We were younger. I can run around an entire football field. Carrying a teenage girl shouldn't be that hard. You're a feather weight." I pat the bed to make him lay next to me on my bed. My parents got a big bed for me since he's been sleeping over often. I'm surprised they let us do that.

For a while, we stared into each other's eyes. His eyes are so beautiful. Too beautiful to be a boy's eyes. That smoky green eyes sparkling almost like emeralds. And his soft curled front hair that I either play with or fix. And, and... What's up with his brows? Those thick brows are so... That's what makes him so cool or handsome or... It just suits him. It even attracts other girls. I get jealous, a lot, but he didn't seem to have interest in them. Except, I keep on thinking of this 'girl' that he addressed when he was asked out in second grade. I mean, what am I thinking? It's been 15 years. Ugh. Who is it if he says that he is not dating anyone because he cares about me the most?

I wonder if she's me...

No.

It's not like we signed a contract to stay as best friends and best friends only. I'm just... I guess I'm jumping to conclusions.

"Rosaline Evans, I need to tell you something." oh no. He used my full name. When he does that, that is usually not a good thing. It's a heavy conversation. "Rose? Can we talk?" he widened his green eyes, shining from the thunder every couple of seconds or so.

"Yeah. Come at me."

"So yeah, we've been together for like, forever, and you're literally the only human I need in my life. I don't say that I love you because you're like a sister or something. I say that because I mean it. Every single time. I just couldn't say it the way I meant it, all these years. Rosaline, I love you like fucking bad, you know?" I saw a tear roll down his face, horizontally. He's serious, I can tell he then buried his face in my breast like a little boy crying. "I hope you understand." he mumbled.

"I mean every word too. the same way. I don't know how fucking bad you love me, but I fucking love you too much to understand. Why didn't you tell me years ago?" I held his head by my breasts. I can feel his warm breath on it. I kissed his brown curled hair and either where he got this hairstyle. Do German boys tend to have this hair? I mean, his dad has it. It's cute though. I don't want him to change it.

We shared each moment together until my parents came back. They came to take a sneak peek eventually, but just saw us sleeping next to each other like when we were kids having a sleepover.

"They never change." I think that's my dad.

...----------------...

We're not dating, but we love each other. I like it. It's a start.