The hour ticked by as Rosalie lost herself in the distracting comfort of his kiss. Somehow, she'd come to sit atop the workbench, her skirts carelessly rumpled but remained lowered between them. Her hands remained on his shoulders even as they parted enough to take a glimpse at the clock. The hour wasn't yet spent, but if they were to lose themselves in the kiss again they would risk being caught.

Rosalie struggled then with what to say. Thank you didn't seem appropriate and made her feel as though he was a hired sort of distraction. However, I do really need those potions, also left a weird and uncomfortable feeling in her chest. One she couldn't quite name.

Ultimately, Rosalie decided to say nothing at all and made it seem as though she was simply trying to catch her breath. (Which was also mostly true.)

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