"Goodness, Sabrina," Rosie says, looking down at her. Pressed as close as they are, she can't help but feel the faint tremor that goes through Sabrina, and it--along with the thought of what that would be like, to be out in the open, under the stars--nearly sparks an answering one of her own.

She has to talk to her about this, and soon. To Nick and Charlie too, maybe. But not quite yet.

When Sabrina's hand twines itself out of her hair, for a moment she thinks maybe whatever this has become since she opened the door to her apartment has passed; that there'll be a distance again, something still close and still intimate, certainly, but veiled in friendship. And then there's the light press of Sabrina's fingertips against her neck, and somewhere at the back of her mind Rosie knows it's only just begun.

"I," she starts, though it comes out more like a sigh than a word. She swallows, and tries again. "I want that too. Whatever firsts there are, whatever ones remain, I want them with someone who cares about me. Who really does, not someone...pretending. Not someone who makes a fool of me." Despite the increasing thud of her heartbeat, when Rosie smiles, it's easy and bright. "And I know I'll have that now."