Rosebud

Her delicate reddish curls were losing shape under the weight of falling flakes.

Though the speed of her growth boggled even Carlisle's brilliant mind, she remained childlike. Edward was reminded of this when her chubby fingers reached up, tangling in her wet tufts. Her delighted squeals were a symphony of crystal joy.

He smiled as he pulled her through drifts. He imagined he once had a tiny, red sled much like the one he had given her. The cuffs of his pants felt damp but not uncomfortable against his cold skin. Another reminder they were not human. Ever the opposite.