Romans & histoires Kaeya X Rosaria

“I want you. Just you.” Lightning shivers across her skin barely there. Moonlight flickers in her eyes. Two old instincts balancing, finding space. But when she leans into him when her lips brush his it’s not Aria’s gentleness or Clara’s fire. It’s Claria. Hers. The kiss is slow at first soft, unsure, testing boundaries she doesn’t know yet. Ares lets her set the pace. Her fingers slide into his hair. His hands cradle her hips. Their breaths mix.

Koa whispered, staring into space before looking back at Rosalie, who stared back at him with the blankest expression he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry,” he said as Rosalie tilted her head, “Sorry is not going to bring them back,” she simply said as Koa shook his head, “Then tell me what I can do,” he pleaded, guilt-eating him up on the inside, “You might want to come closer, my throat is getting sore,” she said, getting a nod in response before Koa leaned forward so that Rosalie’s lips touched his ear, “A life for a life,” she whispered before swiftly slitting his throat, earning a gasp before he stumbled back, holding his neck that flowed with non-stop streams of blood. Koa’s widened eyes connect

I growl at her, earning an odd lock from Orpheus who looks up at Kaia…tilting his head as he also notices her paling complexion. Fuck’s sake. “Sshh, no one will hurt you again. You have my word.” Orpheus places his nose in the nook of Rosa’s neck, inhaling her scent like a wolf starved. “Let’s give them some privacy.” Kaia commands to the room. “But..” “Riley…she needs him now…you can come back later.”

My heart starts racing. **** Xavier's POV "Rosaline is awake and is heading here now." I say watching Jarett's wife Kayleigh, who is the first ever female warrior, smile. She's been excited ever since told them. "Now continuing on, no one tells Rose that the party is also for her. I want it to be a surprise. Mom, I want you to take Rose out shopping today, get her anything she needs, clothes etc. Kayleigh, you may join them if you'd like." she smiles and nods at me.

Rosalia was already resigned to a chair, cucumber slices on her eyelids, while Aria was bickering with the stylist over what shade of pink best represented "chaotic feminine energy." When the technician approached me with a color scheme, I waved a hand. "Black. Always black." Aria threw a towel at me. "You're impossible. It's an engagement, not a funeral." "Alright, I’ll do burgundy," I shot back, lips curving. Rosalia poked her head out from under her cucumbers, shaking her head. "You're so dramatic. And to think I used to think Rocco was the dark one in the family."

the friend promised in disbelief. "They both really got ready for me!" he got up angrily and left their classroom, while the girl Ara followed behind him. "Bea! where are you going? Our class is about to start!" Ara shouted, but she didn't listen to him and just continued walking towards Rica's classroom. "Where's Rica?" he asked the student who was opposite the classroom door. "Rica? there he is!” she pointed behind her and when she turned around, Rica and her ex-boyfriend Joshua happened to be together and they were still holding hands.

I open up my email. ________________________ From: Vanessa Maddison Subject: Rosalia Date: August 23, 2021, 12:18 To: Luca Venturi Dear Luca, I'm writing to you to ask that you please extend the courtesy of giving me the correct information and safety procedures for going about meeting Rosalia. I do not care about the danger I may bring upon myself, I have lived many years not knowing that she existed, and I cannot continue to live many more without getting the opportunity to meet her.

Rosalia was ready with her basket and bright smile, a sight that always cheered Maya up. “Great party,” Maya diverted smoothly, then mirrored the woman’s pace as they began to pick fruits from the surrounding trees. “Did you enjoy it?” Rosalia giggled. “I enjoyed it very much. Maybe too much since I passed out in bed and woke up with a giant headache. How about you?” “It was…memorable.” Come for me. Come for me now. Heat rose in her chest until her heart beat quicker. Her core throbbed, already aching when she should be more than sated. She kept her mouth shut, sure that her voice would come out as a squeak.

Kai’s jaw clenched, their rooftop kiss, Gianna’s fierce strength, a flame that burned through his fear of losing her. Gianna Moretti stood beside him, her sleek black dress a disguise, her emerald eyes gleaming with focus, her braid hidden under a sleek updo. Her command of La Rosa Nera, a defiance of tradition, was a spark that ignited Kai, their shared pain—Lorenzo’s and Alessio’s betrayals—binding them closer. She adjusted his tie, her voice low, fierce. “We play this perfect, Kai. No mistakes.” Kai’s hand brushed hers, his voice raw, steady. “With you, Moretti, we’re flawless.”

As if my conscience was telling me to stay away from that man. Ever since the tragedy happened, my body had turned into an alarm system that would give me signals whenever something was wrong. “Mr. Serratore…” I repeated his name, and it was the first time a simple name caused me fear. “Yes. I’ve also heard of another artist who has also performed on stage in Palermo, right there, but also on other stages around the world and I’m very intrigued to meet her. You might even get to interview her once you find out her identity, of course. They call her Cello Clare. She’s the masked cellist.” Pierre spoke enthusiastically, running his hand through his soft hair. But for me it was too much to take