Something happens to white sheets when the morning sun shines softly upon them, Lisa finds. 

 

A magic. 

 

The magic of a girl's soft breath on the bared skin on her chest, and the sheen of sweat where the skin of their legs touch, limbs tangled lazily. It's the kind of magic she finds so often these days, and she can't help herself. With a swipe across the screen on her phone, Lisa is out of the game and a few seconds later, the camera is open on her phone, and she angles it at their legs. Taps the screen to catch the light right and snaps a picture.

 

Rosie's shuffles ever so slightly in her sleep and sighs deeply, nose nuzzling against Lisa's skin. The younger girl giggles quietly. Angles the camera again and takes a picture of the older girl's face, the mouth slightly open and the face swollen with sleep, lips dry and eyes fluttering under closed lids.

 

Distractedly, Lisa runs a hand through the blonde hair, as if she's done it a million times before, which she maybe has. She stopped counting. It stopped mattering. 

 

What is one more, when you have forever anyways?

 

Somehow the thoughts still give her butterflies, and she shifts under Rosie to press her lips to the top of her head. Feels the smile that spreads on Rosie's lips, against her skin. Hears her croaking hum. Lisa doesn't attempt to wake her further but rather lets her fall back asleep. Wants more time to just look at her. To notice her. She hasn't been doing that enough lately, with Rosie’s training and her own classes, it's just been so busy. But now? Right now it's a rare day. It's the kind of perfect day some say you ought to spend outside, but Lisa knows to spend right here in bed.

 

It's another half hour before Rosie comes to on her own, a sharp breath and fingers softly digging into the skin of Lisa's hip where the girl's hand has been resting. The shift of a body exposing the red patches on their legs where they've been stuck together. Lisa smiles. Manages to take a picture of Rosie's droopy eyes just as she lifts her head from Lisa's chest. A frown forms on the older girl's face.

 

"What are you doing?" Rosie's voice is hoarse with sleep and last night's wine.

 

"Remembering."

 

"Huh?" Rosie blinks and wipes the corner of before yawning.

 

"Just remembering now, for later."

 

"I'm..." Rosie closes her eyes tight for a moment before opening them again, "definitely not awake enough for this kind of talk. Tell me again?"

 

“Well, I...“ Lisa feels the warmth creeping up her neck and the nervous smile tugging at her lips, “I like taking pictures.”

 

“Of me?” Rosie asks a bubbly chuckle on her lips. Her hand casually travels up under Lisa’s shirt, settling on comfortably on the skin over her lower ribs. Just a habit.

 

“Yeah. I mean, I just like having pictures of the things I love.” Lisa tries to shrug it off, but the truth is that she’s never told this to Rosie before. Has never told her how many pictures she has of Rosie’s, of their tangled fingers. It’s so silly.

 

Rosie doesn’t answer immediately. Just stares with a slightly open mouth.

 

“What?” Lisa frowns.

 

“You...” Rosie croaks. Then she sits up a little, her hand slipping from under Lisa’s shirt. It immediately feels like it’s missing.

 

“Did I say something?” Lisa asks worriedly. It scares her a little, how Rosie just stares. It threatens to break the soft light of the morning. But then Rosie speaks, breathing in the air between them in a voice of disbelief.

 

“You love me?”

 

For a moment Lisa is completely lost. Then the warmth settles in her cheeks and her ears. 

 

“Oh- well. Yeah? I mean- if... if it’s okay?” Lisa feels stupid. You don’t ask someone if it’s okay that you love them. But she feels like she should. Because loving Rosie feels like a privilege that she hadn’t expected to ever get, and she’s still not really sure she’s entitled to it. That she deserves it. But it just happened. Somewhere in the daily life, she found forever in another person. In Rosie.

 

And maybe that’s what love is? 

 

To see forever in a heart.

 

Rosie doesn’t answer. Just blinks and tilts her head slightly. Lisa tugs the hem of her shirt down to the waistband of her pyjama shorts, and Rosie’s eyes snap down; then back up to Lisa’s, an unreadable expression on a face that had otherwise revealed an entire personality, an entire heart, on the very first day they met.

 

“Can I see your phone?”

 

If Lisa could make a top ten likely sentences to come out of Rosie’s mouth at that moment, that one wouldn’t have made it. Not even a top one hundred.

 

“Uh, sure,” Lisa says, her stomach tugging uncomfortably. She’s completely torn between the fragility of bared soul and the complete trust in a girl who’s currently not reacting in a foreseeable manner at all. But Lisa hands her the phone and Rosie points the back at Lisa. 

 

Lisa looks at it. 

 

Hears the little click and realizes Rosie has taken a picture of her.

 

“What are you...“

 

“Now you have a picture of what I love as well!”

 

Lisa’s breath catches in and she presses her lips together, but the smile is too big to contain. 

 

Another click.

 

“Actually; this is what I love the most.” Rosie turns the phone to show a picture of Lisa’s face, her sleepy cheeks slightly puffed from the smile and her eyes crinkled at the edges, shyness in the tinged cheeks.

 

“So,” Rosie hands Lisa the phone back, shuffling to settle in the crook of her neck, “can I see the pictures you have?”

 

Lisa angles her face to find Rosie’s eyes. “They’re just... silly, really.”

 

“Show me. I’ll love them.” Rosie promises.

 

So Lisa shows her. Months worth of pictures, a memory,  a day, a glimpse or a mood or a moment caught in every single one. Neatly organized in a folder named “Rosie”.

 

Rosie comments from time to time. Chuckles at the one picture of Rosie’s double chin during a dinosaur impression and hums at a picture of their hands inside Rosie’s pocket.

 

“You have a picture of my hickey?” Rosie asks as they reach one of Rosie’s neck and bare shoulder against white sheets.

 

“It’s the reason everyone found out. So I wanted to keep it even when it was gone.”

 

Rosie lets out a breathy “Oh...” and then looks up at Lisa. “Can you... send me that? The album?” 

 

“I... sure?” Lisa frowns, but Rosie doesn’t elaborate. Just thanks Lisa and presses a kiss to Lisa’s cheek before settling back with her head on Lisa’s chest, hand back on her ribs under the shirt. Where she belongs.

 

 

---

 

“I know they’re not real polaroids, they’re so expensive, and I know it’s tacky to...“

 

Rosie’s cheeks get pink as she talks, scratching at the back of her head. 

 

Lisa stares at the wall behind her bed, usually white but now covered with fairy lights all a selection of Lisa’s pictures printed like polaroids.

 

“I love it.”

 

“Yeah?” Rosie sighs in relief.

 

Lisa nods. “I love it. I love being loved by you.”