Author's Note: Hey you guys, this is a fanfiction soully based on a song called Stand Still, Look Pretty by the Wreckers. It seemed to fit Rosalie Hale so perfectly that I wanted to write a fanfiction about it. This is basically Rosalie and Royce going through he high society life and Royce treeating Rosalie in such a way that it makes her feel like all she is good for is standing still and looking pretty, until she meets someone who proves her wrong. I hope you guys like it. I apologize if Rosalie always seems OC in my fanfictions... I just always think of her as me I guess. :)

Disclaimer: No, I own NOTHING twilight. Not, Rosalie Not Royce. And sadly... Not Emmett.... :( One day maybe I will own Emmett but as far as now goes. Nuh uh. nada. zip. zilch. zero. elnothingo. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing.

depressed now that I see I own nothing.... :(

Reviews might can cheer me up :)


by: The Wreckers

I want to paint my face
and pretend that I am someone else
Sometimes I get so fed up
I don't even wanna look at myself

But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I hate the way you look at me I have to say
I wish I could start over

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
And you might think its easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty

Sometimes I find myself shaking
in the middle of the night
And then it hits me and I can't
even believe this is my life

But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I wish that everyone would go an shut their mouth
I'm not strong enough to deal with it

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
And you might think its easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty

I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
And you might think its easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty

"Rosalie, smile darling." Royce mumbled to me under his breath. I put on my fake, pleasant expression as he escorted me into a room full of sharks. The sharks were businessmen, lawyers, goldmine owners, heirs to extreme fortunes, and of course the women behind them. This was the high society life. These people that smiled to me and complimented my attire to my face and ripped me to shreds behind my back. This is the life I'd chosen, or was it the life that was chosen for me? My mother would have killed me if she'd known what I was thinking. I dismissed the thoughts quickly as Royce and I made our grand entrance.

Everyone's heads turned to stare at us in awe as we walked down the grand staircase, I on his arm. I smiled a real smile this time. I loved this attention. I loved everyone to want to be me.

"They're green with envy." Royce whispered happily in a velvety, perfect voice. I looked over to him hoping to meet his loving gaze of his light crystal blue eyes and feel an electric spark as a special, impeccable moment passed between us, but all I saw was his perfect profile as he smiled to our adoring audience. I took a deep breath and followed his example, turning my nose up in an arrogant gesture. "Mr. Aster," Royce greeted a businessman that he worked with. The man turned around, a glass of champagne in hand and looked at me first his eyes inspecting me from head to toe. I stood up straighter and smiled. He seemed to be pleased at Royce's trophy and nodded to Royce. "I would like to formally introduce my darling fiancée Miss Rosalie Hale." He smiled and unwound his arm from mine so Mr. Aster took my dainty gloved hand and kissed it.

"She's a beauty Royce. Splendid match, the both of you." Mr. Aster noted taking another dink of champagne. I bowed my head politely.

"Come on sweetheart." Royce tugged on my arm gently, leading me around and introducing me to more and more boring people, one after another. Finally, he led me to the dinner table. I hated to admit when I was hungry. The one time I'd said 'Royce darling, will we be dining soon?' He looked at me like I'd just said I wanted to wear trousers instead of a ball gown. He'd scolded me saying my question was out of place. He pulled out my chair politely and I sat down and he slid my chair back into the tale with ease and sat down on my right my mother on my left. "I'd like to present to you all to my lovely fiancée Rosalie Hale." Royce said raising his glass of champagne that he never drank from in a toast. The people around the table smiled and nodded politely.

It all sounded so routine now, it was getting quite monotonous, but this was my life. The first few parties I'd been to with Royce, I had just about burst at the seams with exuding happiness. Every time Mr. So and So would say 'Oh Miss Hale, you are quite a catch' or 'Miss Hale, you are quite a beauty.' Or 'Royce you better keep a hold on this Miss Hale, you might have some challengers.' Or when the women would say 'Miss Hale, you are so beautiful. I envy you.' Or 'You and Royce are such a splendid couple. Miss Hale, I just know your children will be the most darling creatures.' (that was my favorite compliment to hear.) or 'Miss Hale, you are such a picture of perfection.' I used to gleam with utter joy every compliment I got, but now… Everything seemed like a routine rather than a real conversation and real admiration.

"So Royce, has Rosalie told you about what color schemes I'd picked for the wedding?" my mother asked.

"No Mrs. Hale, she has not spoken of such, but I'm sure I would love to hear it." Royce said. I wanted him to lace his fingers through mine under the table in a very secretive romantic gesture, but he smiled at me like he was smiling for a camera. I was about to open my mouth to tell him myself, but my mother cut me off.

"She had suggested scarlet red, but it truly would be atrocious." She noted, waving my ideas away. "So it's now lavender and cream. I told her she needed to ask you about location. She, no doubt would have chosen a library or such of the sort." She giggled daintily, the only way she knew how, like my wanting to get married in a library was a childish idea. The table nodded laughing in a fake mechanical way. The way it always is. I smiled like I had been joking about my idea. Royce stroked a curl from my face and the table smiled pleasantly at the loving gesture. The waiter saved me, taking our dinner orders.

"We'll both have the lamb thank you." Royce said definitely. I hated lamb. "You like lamb don't you darling?" He asked afterwards. I nodded and smiled falsely.

"Rosalie, sit up straighter." My mother hissed into my ear.

"Ah Royce, have you been at the new building I own down on sixth street?" One of the men asked, smoking a pipe. I took out a cigarette and placed it on the sophisticated handle from France and lit it taking a long smoke.

"Why yes I have. Who hasn't? Why, it's basically touching the sky, Franklin. I'd bet a thousand dollars it resides above the clouds." Royce smiled. He was in his element. Talking about money. I blew a puff of smoke from my slightly parted lips making a beautiful ring around my face. My mother pinched my side fiercely causing me to wince.

"You know I don't like that Rosalie." She scolded and raised an eyebrow as if challenging me to disobey her. I blew another puff of smoke to spite her and smiled. This time it was Royce who pinched me. I wanted to flinch and let out a whimper, because it really hurt. He'd never hurt me before…

"Don't embarrass me Rose." He ordered through clenched teeth and pulled the cigarette from the handle out of my mouth and snubbed the flame. I sat up straighter and tightened my jaw stubbornly. If I was in a spiteful mood, I would have just pulled out another smoke, but I wasn't. I was submissive, the way a lady should be. The way I'd been raised.

"As I was saying, I have just recently come into ownership of the beautiful Ariella, a new ship built just as grand as the Titanic, though hopefully not as sinkable." Royce laughed. The table joined him laughing in stifled careful giggles and chuckles.

"How big is it Royce?" A lawyer, Mr. William Counts asked taking a sip of soup. Before Royce could answer I opened my mouth knowing I shouldn't have.

"Do you know of Dr. Freud, ? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." I said turning my nose up arrogantly and taking a drink of champagne. Women were not supposed to speak in such a manner, but I didn't think at the time.

"She's got a spirit Royce. Are you sure you can handle her?" Mrs. King joked. I liked Royce's mother. She was independent and strong willed, like a part of me wanted to be. But, I knew I would give in to the larger part of me and be a silent but beautiful trophy wife. I would be the prize for the rest of my life. And I wasn't ashamed of that. I actually liked it, in a way.

"I suppose I have to reel in your reins a bit won't I darling?" Royce smiled but pinched me under the table. The dinner party laughed at Royce's 'joke'. I didn't because I knew he was serious. By God, he practically told me what to wear these days! There wasn't a part of me that wasn't already under his control. I still had the freedom of my thoughts and my mind, but if he could find out a way to control those too, he would. He stroked a curl from my face but whispered scolding in my ear. "Rosalie, darling. Baby, sweetheart." He continued pouring out sweet endearing pet names. "You know I would do anything for you. For Christ's sake I can give you everything in the world. So please do something for me." He stroked my collarbone with his fingertips ever so gently and smiled an ultra white smile to me. I remained silent. "Rosalie, you are to be my wife. You're beautiful. Stunningly so, but babe there are some sight things that you do that aren't exactly that… um what's the word?" He pondered on a word that wouldn't hurt my feelings.

"Submissive?" I murmured.

"That aren't exactly… ladylike. Like smoking. You know I don't approve of that darling. And Rosalie, I've heard rumors at the country club that you… while you were horseback riding, you rode like… like a man!" He shuddered like that was the most terrible thing in the entire world.

"You mean with one leg on each side? Oh darling no." I gasped like it wasn't true. But it was…

"I knew it. I know you're the most perfect lady in all of Rochester. You won't disappoint me." He smiled and kissed me on the cheek. Thankfully, I was saved, as our main course was brought out. I looked over to Royce, and he smiled at me and kissed me quickly on the lips stroking my cheek. I'd only been really kissed by Royce a total of seven times. But when he did kiss me, he meant business; the most I can say is when it was over, my breathing was so heavy it had sounded like I'd just run a marathon. I smiled thinking of it. I loved when he did things such as this. It made me realize he loved me even when I was… doubting it. "Your eyes are like violets tonight, absolutely stunning." He told me lovingly. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and forget everyone here. We could just run away, and never have to perform for an audience and all these high society people. We'd never truly been alone together, and I so desperately wanted to do so. I wanted him to know the real Rosalie. I wanted to know who he really was as well. I knew not much about him really and truthfully, even though he is what we always seem to talk about.

"Thank you." I whispered and bit my lip contemplating whether or not I should take the chance. "I love you Royce." I murmured. He smiled and kissed my cheek wordlessly. I was glad when he kept his hand on my knee as the dinner conversation continued. His fingers curled around my knee tracing light patterns on the fabric of my gown, and I placed my hand atop his and stroked his long beautiful fingers. I looked to him and had the sudden urge to run my fingers through his perfect fair blonde hair. I blushed and looked down.

"Why Rose, you're blushing, don't do that. Tittering in such a manner, is extremely unbecoming darling." Royce told me taking his hand from my knee and returning to his back to me as he continued on about money and business with his colleagues. I took a bite of my lamb, it was utterly horrendous, but I was starving. I took another, tiny dainty bite. "Are you sure you'll be able to fit in your wedding dress Rosalie? You are filling out quite a bit sweetheart." Royce noted quietly into my ear and patted my arm like he was giving me some friendly advice. He took a drink of wine and continued conversing with his friends. I gulped and looked down embarrassed. For his information, I had lost five or six inches off of my waist since our engagement a month ago. That was considered quite unhealthy, but I'd done it anyway. I felt like crying. He never noticed what all I sacrificed for him. He never thought what I did was magnificent or notable. I never met his expectations. I was never good enough for him... I felt tears coming and I didn't want to cry in front of him.

"Yes, I apologize for my hastiness darling." I said. "Excuse me for a moment." I murmured and stood from the table. Royce looked to me and raised an eyebrow. He gestured for me and I came to him like always. He kissed me hard holding my face into place in his hands. I heard the tittering giggles of the others at the dinner table. They were so impressed at our romanticism. Everyone wanted to have a relationship like ours. I tried to remain unresponsive in the kiss, but the kiss did deepen and I put my hands on his shoulders trying to resist the urge to clutch to him and wind my fingers in his hair in a completely impolite manner. I was sick of being polite, you might call me hormonal, but I was sick of our relationship being for an audience. I wanted it to be just him and me…

I turned from him and walked quickly out the doors the tears I'd fought for so long began to fall from my eyes. The doors were opened for me and I stepped out into the crisp air of New York at night. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. My eyes snapped open and I began running. I hoisted up my skirts and took off my shoes holding them in the other hand. The tears fell quicker and quicker, harder and harder. My breathing became hard and labored. I ran for such a long time, my legs feeling like spaghetti noodles underneath me. I kept running not knowing quite where I was going. I pulled myself up the fire escape to an old run down looking building up to the roof. I thought this place would be somewhere I could look to the stars and think alone. I needed some time to think. As I rounded the corner, sobs tearing through my throat and my breathing heavy from my run I almost screamed when I saw I wasn't alone. There sitting on the ledge one leg hanging over the edge was a very very very handsome man. By his clothing and attire I could tell he was in the low working class. He had the suspenders of his trousers off his shoulders and his undershirt half way buttoned showing his perfect muscular chest. I would have blushed; I'd never seen a man so underdressed before.

He looked very poor nonetheless. But yet still more handsome than any of the high society sharks I'd been with this evening. The man had very dark messy curly hair, and his clear skin was tanned like he'd been working out of doors for a long while; his beautiful facial features were boyish on such a strong, grown man's body. His body was like the sculpture David, by Michaleangelo, perfectly muscular and sculpted. He had bands of muscle covering every inch of his long tall body. He was bigger than any man I'd ever seen. I'd been taught to fear men this big. He brought a cigarette from his beautiful, perfect lips and turned to me where I was frozen in shock.

"What's a high class girl such as you doing around these parts?" The man smiled a puff of smoke escaping through his lips beautifully. His voice was very deep and silky. Gorgeous, like everything else about him. Sweet, baby like dimples, like Vera's little baby Henry, erupted on his cheeks when he smiled. It looked so childish on his grown face, but yet so perfect.

"I don't know." I admitted.

"I don't know why I'm here either so don't feel bad." He said and chuckled taking another long smoke. Such a beautiful carefree sound. "Are you all right miss?" He asked me, true concern painting his voice.

"I just needed to think some things through." I told him quietly.

"I haven't been in New York very long, I call Gatlinburg, Tennessee my true home, but this is the place where I come to think too." He told me and swung his leg that was dangling from the side of the ledge back to the other side.

"So why did you come to New York?" I asked after a long silence.

"Well, I needed a job and to get away from my mom and dad for a while. It was so hard to find anything around Tennessee as far as a job goes that wouldn't involve risking my life everyday in a coal mine, so I came here for a while to go to school too. I didn't really get a lot of school back in Tennessee. I have to go back home this fall though." He answered. I nodded even a slight bit disappointed that he would be leaving, even though I barely knew him. I noticed he had something in his hands. It was a notebook. An artist's notebook and pencil.

"You're an artist?" I whispered after a long silence.

"Not a good one." He laughed, the most glorious sound I'd ever heard. I wanted to hear it again

"May I see?" I asked. I don't know why, I felt so at home with this man I didn't even know his name.

"Ah, now that'll cost you miss." He smiled.

"On what terms?" I asked.

"I would like to know your name miss." He lit up with a wide childish grin.

"Rosalie. Rosalie Hale." I told him and surprisingly extended my hand to this complete stranger. He stood up, towering above me. He was extremely intimidating. I was almost scared of him for a moment. He surprised me too. He didn't kiss my hand in the formal greeting. He shook my hand with a firm grip. I smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Hale." He said.

"Just Rosalie. Please sir. I've been hearing Miss Hale way too much lately…" I don't know why I was complaining to him.

"Why is that a bad thing?" He asked confused.

"I just… Sometimes I just want to forget being a proper lady, and all the stupid high society socialite life I live. Sometimes I just want to be Rosalie." I said.

"Then why don't you, Rosalie?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?!" I widened my eyes.

"There's nothing keeping you from being just Rosalie, why don't you? You don't have to be anything you don't want to be." He told me and opened his notebook. He looked to me and bit his lip before the pencil began to sketch along the page.

"Oh there are plenty of things keeping me from being just Rosalie." I laughed without humor.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm engaged to be married in less than a month." I said showing my diamond. He stood up and his eyes widened as he looked upon the ring. He took my hand and turned it this way and that in his long, somehow seeming protective hands. I tried to silence the joyful butterflies in my stomach at his touch. I'd never felt like this before and I didn't want to feel this way especially not a month before my wedding… I lowered my lashes the way I did when I thought my eyes would betray me.

"Good God. That thing's huge. Keep away from the edge of the building, if you fell, you'd hit the ground immediately with that rock on your hand." He joked. I laughed. I actually let out a real laugh. I'd been craving to do that in such a long time.

"It is a wretchedly heavy thing. You should have seen the diamond necklace though. I swear it added ten pounds to me. Eighty seven carats it was! I pretended that I'd forgotten about it tonight just so I wouldn't have to wear it." I told him. He laughed.

"You got a really rich boyfriend." He smiled.

"Yes…" I sighed.

"When are you going to get married?" He asked still doodling on his paper looking up to me occasionally.

"April twentieth." I said, and a hollow feeling went through my stomach for some reason I pretended I didn't know.

"If you don't mind me asking," he began. "Are you frightened? You look it." He noted observantly.

"I… No." I didn't lie, but I didn't tell the truth either. "I'm just… You know how it feels when you aren't ready to do something new?" I started. He nodded. "Well, I don't think I'm ready to grow up yet. Royce likes his women a certain way and I don't think I'm ready to be that yet. He loves me and all, but he wants me to be his wife Rosalie, I won't be the same Rosalie I am now. I don't know if I want to lose who I am, and sacrifice myself to submit in a marriage. Now I'm not afraid of the commitment by any means; I just don't know if I want this high class life full of sharks ripping you to shreds for the rest of my existence like the life he wants me to have. You know?" I rambled on and on, but I wasn't finished. Without thinking, I took the cigarette from his hand and took a long smoke. He tried to keep from smiling.

"What you've never seen a rich girl smoke before?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Just not as good as you do it." He smiled. I cracked a tiny grin as well. He was the only person that didn't scold me for it. "So any way Rosalie, you're saying that if you get married to this guy you'll have to sacrifice yourself and what makes you, you. In my opinion." He said holding his hands up in surrender already. "In my opinion, if this guy really loved you, he wouldn't make you change to begin with." He murmured looking into my eyes intently.

"I mean Royce is everything I've ever dreamed of. He's my parents' happy ending for me. He's a King for Christ's sake! How much more fairytale can you get? He is a King and one day, I shall be Queen. I want to be his wife. I want that."

"Do you?"

"You're being very rude sir."

"I'm just asking you, if that is really what you want." He said. "If you marry this Royce, you'll lose that wonderful fire I see that's in you. It'll burn out Rosalie. They'll all suffocate you until you're just like them. I promise." He whispered.

"That may not be a bad thing. I need to lose my fire."

"Who says?!" The man asked fiercely. "Losing your will your voice, and who you are is the worst thing that they can do to you Rosalie."

"If I am to live this life I have to stop being so free willed and fiery. I am a woman, I know it's unfair but we females are not designed to have choices. Royce is the kind of man that likes his wife to be submissive. Royce has money and he's very handsome and also polite, that's all it took for my parents to make the choice." I told him.

"So you didn't choose to marry him?"

"I was the one that said yes when he proposed if that's what you mean."

"Do you love him?" The man asked gently. I was appalled at his question. I opened my mouth in shock then took a long smoke blowing a ring of smoke into the black night air. I was silent for a long moment.

"What kind of silly question is that? I mean… Of course I love Royce. I do. I love him." I said throwing the cigarette to the ground to have a reasonable explanation for staring at the ground.

"It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me." He whispered.

"I love Royce King the second and I will marry him and become whatever he pleases for me to be." I turned my nose up and clenched my teeth stubbornly.

"And what do you think that will be Rosalie?! A trophy wife? A silent prize?! Rosalie, be careful. Don't forget who you are. Don't let Royce decide who that is either." He said with intensity.

"I just…" I started crying again. "I want him to know who I am so he won't still want to change it. I want him to see my vulnerable side, like you are." I didn't even try to wipe away the tears streaming down my face. The man patted the side of the ledge beside him. I surprised myself and sat next to the man and laid my head on his chest. I closed my eyes. I wished Royce did this to me. He didn't know whether to wrap his arms around me or leave me alone. He made do with patting my arm. "Royce thinks all I can do is stand still and look pretty." I sobbed and he decided to wrap his arms around me.

"You are so much more than that Rosalie." He murmured. "Royce will see that one day. I promise." The man assured me.

"You really think so?" I opened my eyes and looked up to him.

"Yes…" The man whispered. "He will wake up one day and see what an amazing girl he has. He'll see that you have so much more to offer than just your astonishing beauty."

"Thank you so much. I truly hope so." I said. Then it was silent for a moment. That's when I came to my senses. I quickly shot up from my easy, intimate position with the strange man that I'd grown to have an odd attraction to that I continued to deny. "I'm sorry. I must go." I pulled away from him my eyes wide as I tried to compose myself. I couldn't believe what I'd just done. I'd never been that close to a man before.

"My Momma told me not to talk to strangers too you know." He joked with me.

"Thank you so much, for… for everything." I said turning away. Then I whirled around. "I wish to know your name sir."

"I'll tell you if you please stop calling me 'sir'" He laughed.

"Just tell me your name and give me another cigarette before I have to go back and be all ladylike." I laughed. He tilted his head back, and laughed freely. I put it in my mouth and stood up on my tip toes so he would light it. He grinned and struck a match the flame lighting the end beautifully in the night. Soon, we were inches apart. He touched my face causing me to shiver and leaned down closer to me and ever so gently pressed his perfect beautiful lips to the corner of my mouth. I panicked and took a quick inhale the smoke from the cigarette filling my lungs, and went into a coughing fit. He just started laughing even harder than before.

"Are. You. All. Right?" He asked between fits of laughter.

"Kissing. Me. Wasn't. Part. Of. The. Deal!" I half coughed half laughed, unable to regret the spark of electricity that I had never felt in all of my eighteen years that had jolted through me, bringing me to life at the casual, sweet kiss from the stranger.

"Sorry." He smiled. I turned away to keep from blushing and smiling. He took a long look into my eyes and then slowly started tracing the pencil across the page. I held out my hand. He looked at me confused, but seeming to know what I wanted.

"Let me see." I said. He clutched the notebook closer to his chest and shook his head.

"Um No. That wasn't part of the deal either." He smiled but in a contradiction with his words handed me the closed notebook. I opened to the first page and my eyes widened. On the page was the most beautiful portrait of a tiny little girl holding a baby bird in her small hands.

"These are good. Very good…" I murmured.

"That is my little sister. She stood there holding the bird for hours. She's never still enough for me to sketch her so I had to seize the opportunity." He smiled thinking of his sister. I turned the page and saw another portrait of the girl kissing a little boy on the cheek. He didn't like this very much for his nose was wrinkled and his eyes squinted. I laughed aloud. "My sister had a crush on that guy forever and I told her to go kiss him, little did I know she actually would." He chuckled. I turned the page again to see a very pretty girl with a very curvaceous body about my age with a cigarette in her mouth lying on a couch her full lips slightly parted in a smile. I turned the page again and saw the same girl smiling widely this time, almost like she was laughing. I turned the page and the same girl for the next four or five pages. I turned once more, but this time another man was with her holding her hand and kissing her fingers where there was a gleaming diamond ring. There seemed to be an angry way to this sketch the pencil had been bared down extremely hard. But in another way, it seemed melancholy the way the lines and angles of the figures seemed blurred. Almost like a dream.

"You like this girl? I asked quietly turning around his notebook to let him see the sketch. He seemed to already know who I was talking about though.

"No." He said turning the page again hastily. This time it was just landscape. Harmless.

"You drew her a lot." I noted, stubborn in confirming that I was right in my guess.

"She was a liar." He said shortly.

"She hurt you?" I asked. He laughed but it had a maniacal edge to it .

"Charlotte was married all along." He said simply and quietly.

"You loved her?" I asked and I felt the strangest pang of pain in my stomach. Jealousy?! I shook my head to shake the thoughts away. I, Rosalie Lillian Hale was NOT jealous. I never have been. I wasn't jealous of

"I was younger and much more… Naive." He said simply and took the cigarette from my mouth and putting it into his own.

"So you loved Charlotte though?" I tried to get clarification.

"No I didn't love her." He stared up into the stars. I took a slow step closer to him. "She was twenty one, I was sixteen. I didn't love her. I just loved her hands. I thought she had really pretty hands you see? So I wanted to sketch her." He slightly smiled and traced along the silhouette of her dainty fingers. Then he looked to me and took my right hand and slipped the long white glove off my fingers. I was silent; the only sound was our quiet breathing. His long fingers caressed mine slowly and gently. Usually, if a stranger began lacing his fingers through mine, I would have run away screaming, but I felt so safe in this moment. "Yours are so much more beautiful." He whispered and kissed my fingers formally, nothing more. I slowly retracted my hand. He smiled and flipped more and more pages until he came near the end. He gave the notebook to me. I looked at the picture for a long time. All that could be heard was our breathing yet again. It was me. On the paper was a quick light sketch of me. I smiled. I didn't look like a porcelain doll . I looked real. I looked like me. "It's my personal favorite." He grinned.

"You are very good." I told him.

"It helps when I have a beautiful subject." He complimented.

"Can I have it?" I asked.

"No way. I have to have something to remember you by when I have to go back home." He said.

"Will you please come to my wedding? I want to see you again." I blurted out before thinking. I bit my tongue.

"Sure." He smiled. "But, let me go ahead and tell you, I don't own a tux." He laughed.

"I'll send you an invitation, and a tailor." I joked. He took my hands in his and held them tightly. I stood there staring into his eyes. His beautiful, strikingly sapphire blue eyes. I suddenly had the urge to wrap my arms around him. But, I didn't have to, he did it for me. His long, muscular arms wrapped around me, in nothing but a friendly gesture. We stood in our embrace, in which, if I was caught, I'd be a seamstress for the rest of my life instead of a trophy wife to the richest family in Rochester. "Rosalie, it's getting late. You need to go back to your boyfriend now." He whispered unwinding his arms from me. I realized I still didn't know his name.

"I still don't have your-." I started.

"My name is Emmett by the way." He cut me off. Emmett. That was a very handsome name. Rosalie and Em- Oh my God! I did NOT just think that. I didn't. I didn't think that.

Royce and Rosalie. Royce and Rosalie. Royce and Rosalie. I looked down, embarrassed at my thoughts.

"Will I see you again?" I asked quietly.

"If fate will have it." He smiled. I put on my shoes and my gloves, trying to recompose my appearance.

"I hope fate will have it." I said. "I'm so glad I met you Emmett." I smiled, almost sad that we had to part.

"It certainly was a pleasure." Emmett smiled the beautiful smile I tried to plant into my memory so I would never forget it. And with that I turned around and headed towards the ladder to the fire escape. "Oh and Rosalie," Emmett started.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Don't just stand still and look pretty." Emmett said coming over to me and embracing me in a hug. "You're so much better than that." He said simply pulling away from me, but his eyes continued boring into mine.

"Thank you Emmett. I hope to see you soon." I whispered and with that, we parted our fingertips touching up until the last possible second when we parted our separate ways…

Little did I know how soon we would see each other. Little did I know, in one month I would die in the streets of Rochester. I didn't send Emmett a wedding invitation, because there was none. I killed my killer, Royce King the Second. I should have known he would be the one to leave me bleeding in the street. I was brought to hell that night. I became one of the undead. A vampire. My pleasant human memories faded, until it seemed that I had never even heard of a man named Emmett that I had met one night in nineteen thirty three. Two long years later, fate did have its way though. I was hunting in the Appalachian Mountains when I found him dying. When he was transformed into a vampire he didn't remember me either. Our human memories faded, but yet fate still had its way. It was funny the way things worked. I had died so I could save him. So I could save the man who told me I was so much more than I had thought I could ever be. Everyone thought it was so easy being me, all they had to do was stand still and look pretty… Someone else showed me just how wrong I could prove them all to be.

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