Her demeanor always had that air of confidence, like there wasn't anything that would trip up Rose Wilson. No, not the Ravager. Rose's heart was steeled, but yet, it sputtered when Jughead approached. She had felt this way once before. It was one of those things where Rose hated it just as much as she wanted it.
Rose always felt not right, different, too much of a freak to really fit in with other people her age. And then there was Jughead who made her feel - well - less of a freak.
"Maybe," Rose murmured, slowly lowering herself deeper into the water.