Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed



Owen had been in the game of wooing for over a year, a fact that seemed to amuse his friends to no end. "Dude, you've been at this for ages. How have you not sealed the deal yet? With those looks and that height, it should've been a cakewalk!" they ribbed him, but Owen just shrugged off their teasing.

One of his buddies, sensing Owen's defeat, leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Listen, man, I've got a tip that's practically foolproof. Works on 99% of women..." Despite his initial disinterest, Owen found himself all ears.

Walking home later, Roseanne couldn't stop talking about the basketball game they'd just watched. "That three-pointer you made was epic! And that victory pose afterwards..." She was all animated, reenacting the moment with a sparkle in her eyes.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Owen, trailing a bit behind, couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. They passed a convenience store, and he suddenly stopped. "Wait here a sec," he said before disappearing inside.

When he emerged, he was holding a bottle of arnica-infused oil, a well-known remedy for bruises. "Saw that red mark on your forehead. This should help it fade faster," he explained, noticing her surprise. Roseanne tried to protest, insisting it was a minor injury, but Owen cut her off.

"Come on, no girl wants a bruise ruining her look. You guys care about this stuff, right?"

"You guys?" Roseanne raised an eyebrow, a hint of a challenge in her voice.

"Yeah, you and... Leda, you know," Owen fumbled.

"Thanks, then," Roseanne said, reaching for the bottle. However, Owen didn't hand it over. Instead, he pulled out a pack of sterile cotton swabs. "You might struggle to apply it evenly. Let me."

He had even washed and sanitized his hands in the store before touching the bruise on her forehead. Roseanne watched, a bit taken aback, as Owen carefully dabbed the oil on her skin, his fingertips surprisingly gentle.

"Huh," she sniffed curiously, "this actually smells really good. Not at all what I expected."

"Yeah, the lady inside said this brand's the best. Especially popular with women," Owen mentioned, a hint of pride in his voice for having chosen well. "All done," he said after a moment, stepping back and discarding the used swab.

The cool sensation of the oil was a relief against her skin, and Roseanne couldn't help but feel a touch more fond of Owen for the gesture. "Thanks."

They continued up to their

apartments, @arting ways at the

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door without Owen mentioning the oil or the cotton swabs again. In fact, he ended up taking them back to his place, perhaps forgetting to offer them to Roseanne or assuming she wouldn't need them anymore.

That night, as Owen lay in bed after a shower, the advice his friend had given him echoed in his thoughts. "As men, if we like someone, we've got to be proactive. Don't just wait around for her to make the first move. And you've got to create opportunities for contact. That's how feelings develop. And when you're together, find excuses for physical contact. Like a 'random' kiss, or a fall that ends in an embrace. Or, when the moment feels right, just pull her in for a

passionate kiss."

Owen mulled over the advice, wondering if he'd ever have the courage to follow through with such bold moves. But for now, taking care of Roseanne's bruise would have to be his first, tentative step into bridging the gap between them.