Experience Tumblr Like Never Before
OMG I JUST HAD A THOIGHT. What if like on this fic that you wrote “tulips or roses”, what if Rose and reader met?!?!
PLSPLSPLSPLS MAKE IT ANGSTY TO FLUFF TOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏
AMAZING THOUGHT POOKIE I WAS THINKING THE SAME >_< also i'm on holiday rn visiting family so ofc the wifi decides to the shittiest rn so apologies for slow uploads and errors :( and tags aren't working??? Word Count: 2k
"'n' th' mornin' efter we shagged, she juist vanished! Efter a' th' love we made?"
Ghost grunts in mock sympathy, and Gaz stifles a scoff next to him, "She probably got scared of your haunted puppet collection mate-"
"Oh ye leave Bonnybelle oot o' this-"
These outings weren't as frequent as one would hope, considering how busy the Task Force usually was, but when there was a break with the missions, most of the soldiers found themselves at the hustle and bustle of the local pub, and it made it better when you could bring a plus one.
It's been a few months since the 'argument' about Rose, and even though John likes to name it a 'dispute', he's drilled it into your head how it was his fault completely not yours.
"Yeah well, me and my girl visited Bali for our anniversary-" Kyle boasts to the group.
"Yeah 'n' Simon gaed tae Croydon wi' his grandma, sae whit." [to all my non-londoners, Croydon is THE GHETTO. always in support of croydon slander]
John snickers, and you smile as the feelings of his arms encapsulating you. "You'll find someone one day, Johnny, I know it." You smile sloppily, partially tipsy from all the alcohol consumed and partially from all the sweet talk.
"Aye ah better, a'm wantin' th' Tulip tae mah Price."
Ah, turns out John's been calling you Tulip to everyone.
"She's limited edition, find your own fuckin' flower." John comically dismisses, taking a hefty sip of his beer, bringing you impossibly closer to him.
Your smile at the compliment is cut short when a blonde bob catches your peripheral, and just as you're about to turn your head to catch the face you're looking at-
"Is your garden in bloom?" Simon casually questions.
The table immediately erupts in coughs and laughter, with Gaz side-eyeing Simon's question, and Johnny laughing at the clever Bridgerton reference. John corrects his posture at the comment and covers his cough with his fist, a light tinge of pink painting his pale bearded cheeks. He'll make sure Simon runs double the amount of laps during practice.
"And that's my cue..." You press a warm kiss against John's temples, before heading off to the women's bathroom, not blind to the 'awwws' and coos from Soap, and the "What does it mean? I only watched the sex scenes..." from Simon.
Walking to the women's bathroom, you yawn and stretch your tense back after sitting on the wooden chair at the bar for so long.
"Tired?"
You snort, "An understatement, I'm sleepy as fuck- Oh."
Locking eyes with the voice in the mirror, grounds you back to reality. The once fictitious woman you were most worried about stands next to you in the bathroom, returning your glance through a mirror.
You break the silence, feeling awkward at the tense scene, although you're unsure if she's feeling the same. Does she know who you are? Does she think of you as her replacement?
"Weather's nice." A terrible comment considering it mid November in England; the weather's far from nice, yet Rose chuckles. For a moment, you can see why John longed for this woman, from the way her skin creased around her mouth as she flashed you a grin through the reflection.
"It's nicer in Greece, moved a few years back." She smiles amicably.
You hum, nodding as if in agreement, even though you hadn't even set foot in a Mediterranean country, "When did you come back? To the UK?"
She looks up, recollecting the days, "Hmm, must been a week now, Greece is lovely, but the UK's home, you know?"
Once again you just nod, watching as she pulls out a red Dior lipstick and reapplies to her supple lips. Watching her intensely focus on her lips makes you question John once again, a wave of insecurity rushing through you like that previous time.
She's so much better than me... You think to yourself.
"How's he been then?"
There's a pause in your breath, your eyebrows raising slightly. Rose makes eye contact with you again through the mirror, and you're grateful that she doesn't turn to look at you physically, you're scared that you might pass out in nervousness.
"I- uh, who?" You manage to blurt out, mentally cursing yourself for what you think sounded like a helium-produced high pitched squeak.
Rose chuckles at your response, "John Price. I see the way he looks at you, you been dating him for long?"
You purse your lips into a thin smile, even after years of dating and marriage, any compliment given to the both of you would send your heart to a warm frenzy.
"Been together for 4 years, married for 1..." Your smile in inevitably giddy as you admire the glittering rock plastered on your ring finger. Rose looks at your ring, her smile faltering a little, but you don't notice it in time.
"And you?"
"Me?" She straightens her posture, and even her mannerisms reflect that of your husbands a bit, "A few years of marriage...it's...nice." But it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more so than answering your question.
Your response is again, a shy nod.
Silence evades the conversation as she closes her lipstick delicately, placing it back into her expensive purse. You want to press the conversation further, beg her for more answers about the history that she might have had with John, you wanted to hear it from her perspective.
"I loved him you know."
Oh.
The world stops for a moment, and you feel the slow emergence of bile erupting from within. You're silent for moment, your thoughts halting. What kinda woman just announces that she had feeling for another's man...no, not just feelings...love.
Her reflection in the mirror breaks into small minuscule frames, as your eyes tear up. Not even a breath escapes from your mouth.
A droplet of sweat cascades down your back and you tremble at the thought of John kissing Rose.
"I...of course, realised too late. When we were celebrating my retirement, me and the team, I, uh...I was about to tell him...and I saw his phone screen...didn't know about you then, but it was a picture of you," She giggles at the memory, "Thought you must have been important 'cos that man's had that brick phone for years, and this is the first time I'd seen a different lockscreen."
You don't respond, unsure of whether to scream at her, calling her a homewrecker, or just to let her complete her speech. You realise she had used the past tense, loved. Did she still feel the same?
"And then I followed him back to his office...he was on the phone...to you. And oh my God. I swear I looked through the crack of his door, that guy was literally melting. Caught him twirling the invisible phone line and everything."
You can't suppress the tiny smirk on your face.
"And it was just a mundane conversation, nothing special...and it looked like he would kill the task force, just to have a spec of your attention on him. I've...never seen him this way, not even with me..." She whispers the last part, looking down at the droplets of water on the porcelain sink.
"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I guess I just came here to get closure-"
"Did you get it?"
The first you've said in minutes, and the tone was so gruff, one would think you were berating her.
She nods, still smiling, and for a second you wonder how strong this woman would have been, flying all the way back, just to see someone she'd harboured feelings with another.
"And even if I hadn't, I wouldn't do anything to either of you...forgive me, I'm not like that."
You nod, intaking some air after what felt like hours. You force yourself to turn your body towards her, a question still stuck in your head, urging to be answered.
"Rose." You whisper. She looks at you with a sweet smile, and for a second you feel bad for even thinking such inhumane thoughts about her.
"Do you still love him?" It was short and curt, no hesitation in your question, which did sound somewhat more like a command.
She looks at her reflection in the mirror, as if assessing her flaws and imperfections. There's another uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere, and it feels like the two of you have sucked a breath in anticipation.
The truth is...she doesn't know. What even is love? Is it measurable? Is it subjective, objective, definite, is it yes or no? Are there layers to love? Can you love two people at the same time? Has she ever felt love?
Does she still love John?
Did she ever love John?
Did John ever love...her?
She thinks back to when she walked into the bar, her eyes searching for the bearded captain, only to see them locked on...you.
Oh the way he looked at you. It reminded her of a loyal dog watching upon his master, like a peasant being granted a sip of golden delicious nectar for the first time. Like the way the moon orbits the Earth indefinitely, following Mother Earth on her orbital path.
Like the way a wounded man would rest in his knees painfully, praying for his Goddess to notice at least one his pleas, as he weeps for her.
It was a look she never gave to him, and one he never gave to her. That look, he had only reserved for ... you.
"No, I suppose not, not the way he loves you." It comes out in a pained whisper, and Rose can't tell if she wanted to go back in time to have John all to herself or if she believes that she would ever experience that kind of connection with him.
You hum, it felt like your voice box was strained every time you responded, but you felt at peace, finally.
How long have been in the bathroom for?
Run along now, John's probably looking for you.
You hug Rose, and you can tell she's not used to physical touch, the way her tall frame freezes at the contact. She smiles to you, silently apologising for her burdensome self.
You leave the bathroom, with a smile bigger than you had ever worn.
Soap's points towards you, at the table, and the others smile, John immediately whisking his head so quickly, you fear he might have pulled a muscle.
"Hey baby," you whisper into his hair, sitting down next to him, with his arm around you, where you belong.
"Jesus, sweetheart, 'was about to go to the bathroom m'self to look for you..." He mumbles, pressing his soft lips against your temple, purposely brushing his beard against your cheek.
You hum, as he presses fluttering kisses against your neck, whispering all kinds of affectionate names, oblivious to the fact that Ghost was already submitting a letter of compliant for excess PDA.
Rose shortly leaves, exiting the pub, her eyes falling on John's blushed cheeks burying into your hair, as she opens the door.
He turns to her, feeling someone looking at her, but instead of freaking out, he just smiles, acknowledging her presence, and quickly shoving his cheek against yours.
Tulips truly were his favourite flowers.
"SHE GAED TAE TH' BATHROOM 'N' DINNAE WASH HER HAUNDS"
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