Charlie and Toren helped me chase away the disappointment that night with more alcohol. We had to avoid our usual haunt and ended up on the east end where none of us were recognized. Among the factory workers, we stood out with clean hands and faces. But no one bothered us and that was all we wanted.

      "I can't believe that cunt!" Charlie screeched after I had finished my story of that morning. A couple of grease streaked men grumbled at the outburst. I tapped Charlie's hand, I didn't want us to get kicked out.

      "I don't trust her," Toren concluded, "but was she a good lay at least? Was it worth it?"

      My face was suddenly burning, I felt like a prude. "We didn't exactly, I mean I don't think we did... I don't remember what happened?" I was thinking about Rosaria's mouth around my neck. "We only kissed. I think." Why couldn't I remember? She had been so sweet...

      Charlie was laughing with a hand over her mouth, trying not to be rude and failing miserably.

      Toren was staring me down, skeptical. "I bet you want to see her again." A smile pulled their lips. "You are such a freak."

      I balked. "I am not! Charlie, please tell them." Looking to Charlie I knew she'd do nothing of the sort.

      "Ivy, I mean... You've never exactly had a normal relationship." Charlie gritted her teeth and lowered her voice. "We all remember that silent nun. The burn on your arm still looks like a cross."

      Instinctively, I slapped a hand over the scar because she was right on both counts. "Maybe I would want to see her again. What of it?"

      Charlie shrugged. Toren spoke. "We all know this won't end well, even you have to admit that. I beg you to quit while you're ahead. We've heard it all before, yah?"

      I looked between my friends, trying to decide how they truly felt. They didn't give me much. I could tell they were bored with my antics and soon they were gossiping about a shared acquaintance. I nursed my beer and zoned out, idly watching iron and mine workers passing through the front door. I did want to see Rose again I just didn't know how I'd accomplish it. She knew where I lived but that did me little good unless I caught her walking by.

      When I was left on my own to head home, I took a purposeful detour around the town. I even went by the police station to see if she'd dumped another drunk, but no luck. There wasn't a single sign of her. When my feet began to ache I finally went home, eager to get to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be busy with soft bellied aristocrats.

      After the feast, my responsibilities finished for the evening, I sat at my window and drank. I could see the path through the grass that led to the kitchen door as well as the street on the other side of the hedges. Absently, I sipped my wine and watched. The deeper I got in my bottle, the more intently I watched for a familiar grey face. At one point I thought I recognized a spill of dark curls and called put. But when the person turned around, I had to apologize and shrunk behind my window sill in embarrassment. Thoroughly put out, I collapsed into bed. The morning came in a blink as clanging bells and I punched feathers from my pillow.

      The next night followed similarly. And the next and the next and for a week. I didn't get much sleep because of my obsessive people watching. I had no luck but I didn't want to miss her. Rosaria was the only thing that excited me anymore and I needed to see her.

      My routine evolved. I began leaving her notes. I made copies of the same doodle to place in the bushes each night. It is was a small folded piece of paper with the drawing of an ivy leaf, an eye, and a rose flower. While I watched, I hoped Rose would find one and look up to find me waiting for her. Inevitably, most of my notes were taken by strangers curious as to the meaning of them. Others were drowned by rain or ripped up by birds for bedding.

      My obsession caught up with me not even a week later. Instead of serving dinner that evening, I wound up on the kitchen floor with blood streaming from my face. The day had started with a late and clumsy breakfast and that had put me on thin ice. When dinner was late, my lord came to find a stray dog had stolen the cooling roast. This was an extravagant waste of wealth and a personal slight. I had been distracted with the door open for a moment and my punishment was a fist to the nose, a heel to the gut, and garnished wages. On his part, it had been a restrained reaction and I hated to imagine otherwise. Unused to physical violence, I was stunned and gasping so long my lord got tired of me and kicked me to my feet. Bab took over and I disappeared upstairs wheezing and leaking red.

      Trying not to cry, and failing, I slumped over the basin in my room while I waited for the bleeding to stop. I still hadn't managed to catch my breath, my swollen nostrils were useless and a sob was frozen in my throat. My eyes were transfixed on the bright copper streaked brighter with blood. It had been the worst part, that second before I knew if I would survive my lord's wrath. The moment that I realized he was winding up to hit me kept replaying in my mind. I was dizzy. The thought "I'm going to faint" passed through my mind too late.

      I came to awkwardly folded on the floor against my mattress, head throbbing. As I rolled onto my hands and knees to relieve my cramped joints, the door opened. Bab walked in just in time to see all of the blood I had managed to swallow dramatically exit my mouth. She swore and ran from the room. I knew I'd have to manage on my own, but her disgust was a final cut I could have done without.

      Cleaning could wait until tomorrow, I had to lay down. I managed to find a comfortable position on my side where my bruised ribs wouldn't be put under pressure. A hand I held to my nose with a rag clutched against it. It was enough I could probably manage some sleep. Then just as my eyes had relaxed shut, Bab returned. She was muttering to herself as she approached with a bucket of water and an armful of supplies.

      "Ivy you cunt," Bab nearly spat, "you got lucky this time, don't take it for granted."

      "Fuck off," I groaned pathetically.

      Bab sucked her teeth and huffed a sigh but that was all she had else to offer. Miraculously she managed to clean me off and put me in clothes that weren't crusted with blood. She complained about the sheets but it was clear I couldn't wait for her to change them so she settled on laying a clean blanket under me.

      "They've left for the next two days," Bab informed me, sitting on the edge of the bed while she forced me to drink water, "get your shit together. I am serious, be grateful you're not working in a factory. If you could even get another job with that attitude." She left and I slept for almost a day straight.

      When I woke in the afternoon, I gorged myself on the fresh food that would go bad in the next couple days. Bread and meat and fruit and veg. I sat on the floor, leaning against my bed, with half eaten pieces of food scattered around me. Night was full at that point and I felt like I could sleep again. My nose was so swollen, I couldn't feel it unless I touched it and the bone shifted. Berries on my tongue and crumbs on my tunic, I curled into my sheets, heedless of their cleanliness. All I wanted was to sleep until I healed.

      The sun was high when I woke and I felt even worse than yesterday. Air couldn't pass my nostrils and I was forced to breath only through my mouth. My tongue tasted of blood and bile, worse the drier it got and my ribs cried out with every movement of my lungs. I wanted to die. But all I could do was hold my breath until my vision darkened at the edges.

      The fact I was expected to be back at work in less than a day was a sick joke. I only gone downhill the last couple days and knew getting through this was going to be impossible. Beyond my focus, I thought I heard the kitchen door open. Then I heard it slam shut and groaned. I didn't care if she needed the kitchen but her footsteps were already heavy on the stairs.

      There was a knock on my door. I tried beg her voicelessly to leave me alone. A meek voice came through the jamb and it wasn't Bab. "Ivy?"

      My face contracted in a frown involuntarily and I had to swallow bile, . "Rose?"

      "Are you okay?" the alarm in her voice told me how bad I sounded.

      I heard her try to knob but it was locked. "Hold on," I croaked even as she easily came through the door.

      Rosaria had broken into my home and I was grateful. Her shadow falling over my face calmed me instantly and I reached up a hand to touch her ashen cheek. She did the oddest thing in reaction. She brought the palm of one hand to her mouth and bit until blood came. Then she grabbed my nose and yanked it straight before I could react. I gasped a scream but the pain had already stopped. She allowed her blood to drench my face, its warmth carrying relief with it. With my head immobilized by her grip, Rose pressed her teeth to my neck and just nicked the skin. I felt the pinch and my muscles relaxed.

      "I missed you," I admitted in a whisper, "what took you so long?"

      Rose ignored my question. "Who did this to you?"

      I heaved a breath and flapped a hand dismissively. "I wasted dinner," I said, "we're even now. It's fine."

      Rose wiped my face clean with her sleeve, so gently my nose barely twinged. "The lord of the house I presume," her voice was venom, "when does he return?"

      "Please," I groaned, "please Rose. You have to leave by morning, I don't need more trouble."

      Instead of responding, Rose pressed a gentle hand to my forehead and asked what I needed.

      "Can you run us a bath?"

      The tub was pulled down from its closet beside the basin to be filled with pots from the stove. Soon the room was humid with steam fragranced by tea and herbs. With the door locked and braced with a chair, Rose helped me undress then lowered me into the steaming water. I sank into it with relief. She had spent a lot of effort getting it so hot, I was grateful as the pain of breathing lessened. When Rose followed, she held me in her lap, soothing and cleansing me. Then we rested, enjoying the last warmth of the bath.

      "Ivy," Rosaria's voice tied my heart for a beat, "how old are you?"

      "22," I spoke slowly, "why? How old are you?"

      The pause before Rose spoke convinced me that she had decided not to answer. Then she did and I let out a short laugh at the joke I was sure she was making. The silence was deafening.

      "How old?" I asked, sure I'd just misheard.

      "56," Rose repeated.

      My eyes dropped to her hand resting on my forearm and I ran a finger across the taut and smooth skin. "Are you sick?"

      "I have a disease," she said, "since I was a baby. It makes everything in my body move slower, that's why I look like this." Rosaria lifted her arms as if in demonstration, grey limbs pink at the elbows, droplets clinging to tiny hairs. Unable to resist, I followed her movement with my hands to feel the cool softness of her skin.

      "Is it catching?" I asked, thinking of blood and spit.

      "No," Rose whispered, her lips were close to my ear, "you're safe." I felt her breath hot on the side of my face and sighed. "Run away with me." Her words made a shiver run down my spine so I almost agreed without question. Instead, my indecision muted me.

      When our bath was cold, we snuggled into bed. Thanks to Rose, the sheets were fresh and clean. She held me close, curling her body around me protectively. Skin to skin under the covers, I thought if I could just get close enough I would be miraculously whole. I wished to kiss her, hadn't because noses got in the way, so I was happy to feel her lips on the back of my neck. One of her hands was slowly combing through my hair and the other comfortably held up the weight of my breast. She pressed her mouth to the curve between my neck and shoulder and I slept.

      Rosaria cooked us dinner the evening, beef, dark greens, and potatoes. We ate in the kitchen at the rarely used table. It was nice to fill both seats, I'd been staring at them for years and always wondered when I would ever have need of them. Bab appeared at one point, but she only grabbed bread and meat before retreating to her side of the house once more. Rose waved to her and the lady's maid merely gave us a stern look. She was definitely going to mention my uninvited guest to our lord. I was exhausted about it already.

      A touch on my hand brought me back to the beautiful face staring intensely into my own. "Is she going to be a problem for you?"

      I hesitated then shook my head. "She's a bitch but she looks out for me, mostly."

      Rose seemed unconvinced, staring down the door that Bab had disturbed. Now it was my turn to I reach out and touched her arm. Instantly, she relaxed her gaze to settle it on me and took my hands into her own. She pressed her forehead to my fingers and sucked in a breath deep and long before releasing in a woosh.

      "How do you feel?"

      "How do I look?" I responded with a smirk that felt more like a grimace.

      Rose leaned over and kissed me, careful to avoid the break in my face. I sighed gratefully into her mouth as I tasted her. She left me to clean and then we sat outside to share a bowl of figs. The fruit was too sweet for me so I only had a few. Rose on the other hand couldn't get enough. She finished the bowl and was put out when I told her we didn't have more.

      Sated, we made it back into bed. Laid out on my mattress, Rose attended me with her mouth and fingers until I trapped her between my thighs and cried out. Coming down, I trembled. Rose kissed me slowly and ran soothing hands across my body while I drifted. Her mouth to my neck, I eventually fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.