Hey, everyone. This is a new fic of mine- my first attempt of one that's not Alice/Bella.
Well, this is a Rosalie/Bella fic. There's not a lot of these out there, and this one is different. This is an unrequited love story, and I tend to make these melancholy and bittersweet... Yes, I see a difference, not sure if you people do.
Anyway, I will be slow with updates for this until I finish Empty Memories. I wouldn't even be writing this, but I'm in hospital after collapsing from exhaustion, and I'm borrowing my friend's laptop, so I don't have my notes for Empty Memories with me.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I picked it up, listening to the ringtone. I had set it to Edward's number. Edward again. I sighed and flipped it open.
fWhat?" I snapped.
"It's me," he replied cheerfully.
"How much do you want?" I asked crossly. He was only ever nice when he needed to borrow money.
"That hurt," he said, sounding injured. "Why do you assume I want money?"
"Because you always want money," I yelled. "For you and your damn singer."
"Hey," he snapped defensively. "She's my singer! Don't insult her!"
I snorted. "How much, Edward?"
"A couple thousand," he admitted sheepishly. "I spent most of my monthly allowance for her buying her a ring."
"Carlisle asked me to come to the hospital today," I said playfully. "Apparently he wants to test my self-control around people giving birth."
He inhaled sharply. "That's harsh."
"All part of being a vampire," I shrugged.
"True," he said. "So, would I be able to borrow the money?"
"What else are you planning to buy her?" I asked suspiciously.
"She turned eighteen today," he said cheerfully. "She's saved up some money to buy a car, and I want to help."
"How much exactly?" I asked suspiciously.
"She's saved over four thousand dollars," he said seriously. "I need maybe six more grand."
"Let me think about it," I said. "I'm near the hospital now."
"That's good," he said, sounding excited now. "I've gotta go, Rose, Emily's here. I'll talk to you later."
"Sure," I mumbled into the non-talkative phone. I hung up eventually, having walked into the hospital.
"Can I help you, darling?" the secretary asked, flashing me a smile. I winked at her and strolled over, enjoying the effect I was having on her.
"I'm here to see my father, Doctor Cullen," I said. "Would you be able to show me to the maternity ward?"
"Sure," the secretary said. I knew that she wasn't meant to leave her post, but she climbed over the desk and walked away, motioning for me to follow.
I followed, her, watching the enjoyable motions she made. She was attractive, for a human.
"Here it is, sugar," the woman smirked, winking at me. As she walked past, she handed me a piece of paper. I looked at it, to see a list of numbers. Her phone number.
"Six, seven, eight..." I followed the doors along, looking for Room Seventeen. I arrived there, and saw a woman holding a baby. I felt a pang of jealousy.
"Rosalie," Carlisle greeted me pleasantly. "What are you doing here?"
"You asked me to come, remember?" I reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. I cracked up, watching him impersonate a teenage boy. Ridiculous, even if he had looked like a teenage boy, instead of a thirty-year-old.
"So why am I here?" I asked, staring at the baby. She was pretty, damn it.
"I wanted you to meet Miss Swan here," he answered. "But now I can't remember why."
I saw a small bandage on the baby's arm. "What happened to the baby?" I asked.
"Isabella cut her arm," Carlisle answered, staring at me warningly. "She cut it when I was measuring her."
"That's bad," I mumbled, staring at the baby. The knowledge that blood was near was sending me nuts.
"Come over here," he invited me. Reluctantly, I walked closer to her.
"Your baby is cute," I complimented the woman. "What's her name? Isabella?"
"That's right," she said. "Isabella."
A nurse walked in. The small shift of air sent a small smell of the baby's blood into my nose. Carlisle watched in alarm as my eyes went midnight black. I wanted the baby!
"I've got to go," I mumbled, trying not to breathe. I inched out of the room, battling my desire for the baby.
I made it out of the room, and into fresh air. The flames in my throat died down slightly, anmd I was able to think rationally.
There was one person I could call. Edward would know what I could do. Taking a deep breath, I dialled his number.
"Edward," I greeted when he picked up. "I need your help."
"Sure," he said cheerfully. "It'll cost you, but."
"This is no joke," I managed to get out. "The blood... It was so good..."
His voice picked up in alertness. "Did you kill someone, Rose?"
"No," I reassured him. "I wanted to so badly, but."
Now he sounded triumphant. "You met your singer, didn't you?"
"I did," I groaned. "God, you have to help me, Edward."
"So, who is the lucky guy?" he asked cheerfully. "Is he good enough for you?"
"It's not a guy," I whispered.
"What?" he laughed, not having taken in what I said. "What did you say? I didn't hear you properly, Rose, Angel."
"It's not a boy," I said louder. "It's a girl, Edward."
He laughed even harder now. "So go talk to her," he choked out. "It's what I did with Emily."
"This is complicated," I whispered miserably. "She won't understand me."
"What, is she deaf?" He started laughing even harder now. "Now, that is ironic!"
"She's not deaf," I said, my voice even lower now. "She's a baby, Edward."
Now he was laughing so hard, he had trouble choking the words out. "I know they're all young, Rose, but I wouldn't call them babies."
"No, Edward," I said desperately. "She's not just young, Edward. She is a real, god-damned baby. She is not even one year old!"
He picked now to stop laughing. "What?" he asked, more alert than I had heard him sound for weeks.
"She is maybe one month old," I said, my voice going lower with every word. "You have to help me."
"Let me get this straight," he said. "You want a baby girl as much as I want my Emily."
I nodded, then remembered he couldn't see me. "That's it in a nutshell."
"You've fallen," he said seriously. "You're not an angel any more, Rose. You're a fallen angel, now."
Fallen Angel. I liked that. "What should I do?" I asked, seeking advice from the man I hadn't understood until now.
"See what you can do to help," he suggested. "Try seeing if you can offer her money, or something. Make her life as happy as you can."
"Thanks, Edward," I muttered. "Carlisle's coming. I've got to go now." And I hung up.
"Why did you leave, Rose?" he asked gently.
"Why did you ask me to come?" I asked bluntly, answering his question with one of my own.
He hesitated. "I wanted your approval," he said quietly. "That woman recently left her husband, and she has very little money. I wanted to see if I could give her some."
A smile lifted my face. "Perfect." And after ascertaining that there was no-one around, I took off, running straight home.
I muttered to myself as I gathered up the petty change in my room. "Stupid baby, ought to kill her, but I can't, gotta do this..." Eventually, I gathered up maybe ten thousand dollars, and deposited it in an envelope.
I watched curiously as my singer's mother opened the door after I knocked. She looked around, then at the doormat, where I had left the money and my note. I watched her mouth move as she read my note.
For my little Isabella. Spend it gratefully. There will be more.
Compliments of her Fallen Angel.
Sure, the note was melodramatic, but I didn't want the woman to freak out, like she would if a random envelope stuffed full of cash turned up. Eventually, she would recognize my gifts, and be happy. Until then, I set myself for years of protecting my little Isabella.
So, tell me what you think. Should I continue with this, should I rewrite it, or should I jst abandon it? Tell me.
Anyway, see the little green button below here? If you click it, I'll give you a hug. And they're rare, haven't given anybody one of those for like, a year. So feel honoured.