Will we burn in heaven like we do down here? [Rosaline]

He wanted this to be romantic. Things with Rosaline had been going really well since she came back from the dome, since the night that started it all. Mikey had found himself more attached to the brunette than he ever expected to be after one drunken night, and he really liked her. They had been awkward for a few weeks after 'the incident,' but of course she had ended up back in his bed eventually. As if she could possibly resist. Of course, this ended up with them being more like friends-with-benefits than an actual relationship. For awhile, Mikey was okay with that. He was okay having no-strings-attached sex with such a gorgeous woman on a semi-regular basis. Believe it or not, it didn't really affect their working relationship, either. He was still polite and profession with her in public, but maybe he was a little more casual with the touching and a little more charming when the cameras weren't rolling.

He decided the best course of action was not to expect anything from her. An invitation to her bed wasn't like a season ticket. It didn't invite him back the next night or the next. He needed to earn that every day if he wanted to be back, and so far this seemed to work for him. The problem came that, while he should have been totally thrilled to have a girl who didn't expect him to commit, he found himself unsure what exactly was appropriate to do. He'd never been in a relationship like this before, and commitment was never a problem for Michael. He was used to going into relationships heart-first, and letting everything else work its way out. He enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, but he wasn't a sexually driven person. He was more love driven. He was more romantic. He wanted to find someone that made his heart burn, like Gwen.

Rose didn't feel like Gwen, but he definitely knew that he was starting to fall for her regardless. They say love feels different every time you fall in it, and Mikey was almost certain that was true. Instead of a flash fire, the way Gwen had lit him up, She was soothing, calming, stress-free. She calmed him down and made him feel at peace. He could really get addicted to being with her and that calm that she washed over him. It wasn't just a post-orgasmic euphoria. It was her, plain and simple. He wanted more than just friends with her, and he didn't know how to ask.

So, instead, he started making their dates a little more romantic. They were already the types of people who dressed nice and went to nice places, but it was the little touches. Flowers, candles, more hand-holding, more kissing, more foreplay. Less drunken fumbling. Mikey was a man now. He could do better than that for a lady, as awkward as his attempts might be.

Tonight, they had planned a picnic at the garden at her home, and he had done as much as he could. He packed them a nice dinner, complete with champagne and chocolate truffles. He set up the garden with flowers and floated a few candles around them. It was a little silly, but he would rather be seen as silly than insincere. He was a little champagne-tipsy by the end of the meal, refilling both of their glasses even though they had probably both had enough. He had been far more drunk in her presence than this before and she still liked him. It would be okay.

“...and then, out of nowhere, his suspender straps both gave away and hit the poor girl behind him right in the face.” He laughed, telling a story about his boss. “He was wearing boxer shorts with those little hearts all over them.” He chuckled. He turned his eyes up to Rosaline, catching her in just the right light. He reached up and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear.

“You really are stunning, you know?” He offered, out of the blue. It was hard to keep it in, though. She looked so gorgeous in the candle and star-light. He leaned in a little bit. “May I?”

@Rosaline Bane

Rosaline's head was swimming from the alcohol, and also from the presence of the man sitting next to her. She had never intended to actually like Michael Evans as a person, much less as a lover. However, her life always did have a way of forcing her to deal with unexpected situations. She knew that it was a bad idea to see him, but being with him made her feel... alive. Free. Unbound to her societal obligations. It was a pleasant feeling. She could definitely get used to it. Deep down, however, she knew that she shouldn't; what her family would say if they knew. They could never know about him. Lorcan had been sent to Azkaban for the cause, and if he found out that his little sister had been intimate with a muggleborn on more than one occasion... Well, she worried about what he might do. He was nothing compared to Sampson, however. Rosaline had to be careful around her grandfather, these days. He couldn't know what she was doing. He had already expressed disapproval at her allowing one of her male friends to stay in an extra room in her home. Cabhan had been staying with her since he had left Hogwarts, and though she had always thought of herself as more of a loner she had found that it was actually nice to have company. Although, wanting to avoid any awkwardness, Rosaline always politely asked Cabhan to go to her home in Wales whenever Michael was over.

Michael wasn't her boyfriend, but she didn't want to give him the impression that there was anyone else. There wasn't. She had been intimate with Cabhan for a very, very brief amount of time. However, she knew that things would never actually work out between them She didn't feel for him the way that she felt for Michael. She wasn't sure what to call this feeling, but she knew that it was good. None of the men that she had been with before had been so thoughtful as Michael was. She loved that he'd decorated her garden for her. Her gardens were her favorite places, though admittedly she preferred the more grand garden at her home in Wales. Still, the way that Michael had arranged things more than made up for it. He'd added more flowers and some floating candles. And he had gotten bonus points for bringing champagne.

By the end of the meal, she was rather tipsy and smiling at him as he told his story. When he finished, she encouraged him with a laugh of her own. "That poor man."

She tilted her head to the side a little, smiling more brightly at his compliment. "Thank  you." Her smile widened into a full-on grin. "You may."

The night was cool for summer, a chilly breeze brushed through the trees, making them sway back and forth. The garden was beautiful in and of itself, full of lush blooms and trimmed hedges. It was clear that someone meticulously tended it, likely a gardener, knowing Rose. The starlight bounced off the reflective surface of the water in the birdbath, giving the whole garden an ethereal feel. He hadn't needed to overhaul anything to make this area beautiful. He had chosen a spot in the center of the garden, on a bright green grassy area, next to the gardenias, which left a sweet scent surrounding the star-crossed lovers.

He had decorated the area with twinkling lights and floating candles. The candles hovered in the air above them, and the lights looked almost like little stars. He had wanted this night to be perfect. Tonight wasn't the night for him to make his move, but she deserved to feel wanted and loved regardless. Michael wanted her to feel special to him, because she was special.

Hearing her affirmative response, Michael leaned in to bring their lips together, the wind blowing in their hair. The breeze caused the wind chimes to tinkle, which only added to the atmosphere. Kissing her felt like perfection. It was exactly where he was supposed to be, and it had been a long, hard time since he'd felt anything like that. Kissing Heather had never felt right, not really. She had been the perfect girl for him, so appropriate, intelligent, and willing. He just didn't feel the fire unless there was something standing in their way, he supposed.

He knew how Rose felt about his blood status. He knew what a scandal they would be and that was probably why they weren't more than friends. He wanted her to know that he wasn't afraid, because he wasn't. To his surprise, he felt completely calm about the whole thing. Regardless of what she said, a part of him knew she cared about him more than she should. He could tell that she liked him. Dare he say, she might have even loved him in her own way. She invited him into her bedroom, into her life, knowing who he was. She was struggling with this as much as she could be. His only course of action was to make this easier on her.

In the past, he might have come on stronger. He might have pushed her, but he had matured in some ways. He knew that things weren't black and white, and sometimes the best thing you could do was wait. He could wait for her to realize how she felt for him. He could wait for her to understand that his blood status didn't matter, and his patience would be rewarded, so long as he constantly reminded her of what he wanted. There could be no doubt that her feelings were reciprocated. He never wanted to come off like one of those boys who didn't care or want to commit.

He kissed her deeply, not letting go, not stopping. He raised a hand to her cheek, cupping her face as he breathed through his nose. He didn't want to let go, but he kept the kiss tender, light, and careful. Nothing too hard, nothing too passionate or sexual. It was a romantic kiss. He wanted to send that message home more than anything.

After a few moments, he broke away to look at her. He smiled lightly, then suddenly felt awkward. All he wanted to do was do it again. Call her beautiful again. Touch her again.

Rosaline smiled into the kiss. Michael had proven, over time, that muggleborns weren't at all like she had seen them before. Her family had brainwashed her into thinking that they were stupid, dirty, and not to be associated with. Michael wasn't like that at all. He was perfect... Except that she could never actually marry him. Her grandfather would never allow it. It was hard to keep her mind off of him in the presence of the family patriarch who also happened to be a Legilimens. Thankfully, he trusted her and invaded her mind only very rarely. She was an excellent actress, after all. She felt guilty about it afterward, but she always made sure to appear to be disgusted with Michael whenever she was speaking privately with Sampson. It couldn't be further from the truth, but it was for his own good.

The brunette didn't want to think about what her grandfather might do to Michael if he even had an inkling that he had "tainted" her. He was one of the Death Eaters who's money and influence had managed to keep him out of Azkaban. Others, like her brother Lorcan, hadn't been as lucky and had spent years in prison before being released. She didn't like the thought of what Lorcan might say or do if he knew, either.

Not now. She wanted to enjoy this. Michael had done such a beautiful job of decorating her flower garden, and the way that he kissed her made her weak; not that she would ever admit to such a thing.

When he pulled away, she smiled brightly at him. It had been such a long time since she'd genuinely smiled, but lately, it seemed to come so easily when she was around him. He was like the sun in her sky, bursting through the dark clouds, but she couldn't tell a soul. Not even him. If they weren't going to be able to have a future together, it would be wrong to lead him to think that they could. That was why she kept things the way that they were. There were so many things that she wanted to say to him, but she couldn't.

"You're very sweet, Michael."