This story has been doing a little jig in my head for about a week and I wanted to write it. Its a one shot. I know I haven't been writing that much lately, and I'm sorry. Life has been keeping me busy lately. Rosalie's point of view.
I watched him. Admired him. The dark curls that framed his face and brushed across his forehead. His eyes, closed, but would open to a deeper burgundy than mine. His face. Strong jaw, nose that was elegant. He was handsome in that timeless American boy way. But his chest. Snowy white now, and strong. Muscles where Edward had none. He had layer upon layer of muscle and I longed to know what they felt like under me.
I couldn't explain the feeling of security that had washed over me two days ago. Especially when he was so venerable. Laying on the floor of the woods and being guarded by a bear three times my size. All I'd known, was that I couldn't let this boy die that way.
I'd been hunting, something that I did all the time. A natural activity. I'd smelt something so delicious though. I'd forgotten that hikers often wandered through these trails and let my instincts take me. Then I'd seen him. Those darks curls and unseeing brown eyes. It had scared me to see anyone as still as this boy was, I couldn't even hear his heart until I was holding him and flying through the trees. I'd felt, more than heard, the faint beating. It had sounded so fragile at the time. I, then, demanded that Carlisle do something for me. I knew he had a companion, and Edward was a loner by nature, but I was not. And there was something about this boy, he seemed special.
I inhaled sharply as he sat up. Not knowing his own speed, he jerked his head around to stare at me. His burgundy eyes holding mine for the longest moment. "Is this hell?" He asked quietly.
I laughed bitterly. "I wish." My eyes lingered on the muscles he seemed to be flexing for me only. He put his arms above his head and arched his back.
"Where am I?" His eyes held mine still. Something about the burgundy depths were fascinating to me. He seemed to have a firm grasp of who he was and who he wanted to be, so unlike myself.
I walked into the small, windowless room, perching on the other edge of his bed. Carefully avoiding physical contact with him. "You're still in Tennessee." I said sensing his distress.
He turned around and jumped up, something in him clicking like I knew it would. "Okay, but why am I here?" His voice was low and soft. His eyes were roaming over my body as mine were his.
"I... You... This..." I shrugged, not knowing how to explain this to someone who I cared about, someone who I could potentially love. Not knowing how to damn him to something I detested. "You might want to sit down." I murmured.
The boy sat next to me. His southern accent was endearing. "Emmett."
"Rosalie." I put my hand in his large one and he picked up my hand, and
gently brushed a kiss on the skin of my palm. "Emmett.." I said his name quietly. Tasting the name on my tounge. Liking the feeling of how it just kind of rolled off of my tounge, it was effortless.
"Rosalie..." He closed his eyes and licked his lips when he said my name. I liked the way he said my name. So soft, so gently. "Why am I sitting, Rosalie?" Emmett murmured my name again.
I kept my hand in his, not ever really realizing it. It just felt so natural with him. Talking and holding hands. We fit so well. "You just went through three days of the worst kind of hell I've ever experienced." Emmett eyes flashed to me.
"You too?" He asked quietly. This felt intimate somehow. He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me into his chest. "I didn't think angels went through hell."
If I could blush, I would've been. "I'm anything but an angel." I mumbled. "If anything, I am a devil." I closed my eyes and succumbed to him. Resting my hands on his and laying my head on his chest. "We are devils." I took a deep breath. "We are vampires." I whispered.
Emmett's breath whooshed out in one big, musky puff of his scent. "Is that why my throat feels like sandpaper?" I looked at him and nodded.
"You're thirsty." I mumbled by way of explanation. "It happens to us all, but we don't get thirsty as often when we get older."
Emmett's lips formed an 'o'. "Can I get something to drink?" He reached toward the tap, but I grabbed his hand.
"No." I chuckled musically, and he seemed fascinated by the tones. "Regular food, people food, will taste like... well, hell to you now."
Emmett's mouth opened and closed, clearly displaying his large, white, incredibly sharp teeth. "What do I eat then?"
I closed my eyes and whispered the one word that was guaranteed to change his life forever. "Blood. Animal blood."
Emmett stood up and looked around the room. "Where's my shirt?"
I smiled sadly. "You tore it."
"Its fine." I grabbed his hand and hauled him up the stairs. "It might be better for you to not wear a shirt." He smiled at me, and then he stopped.
I looked at the green grass. "Yes."
His hand cupped my chin. "Sometimes we can't make a choice for ourselves, but everything happens for a reason, don't forget that. Maybe we were changed, just so we could have a second chance at life and friendship.. and love."
I wouldn't admit it, but I liked that idea very much.