Synopsis: "Yes, because … Dying is no great matter. What's unbearable is the thought of never seeing her again." Act Four, Scene IV of Cyrano de Bergerac. This is a prequel to "Je te rends ton Amour" directly related to what is introduced in its Chapter 10. When Rosalie storms out of the house, in one of her infamous rages, only Esme dares follow her.
Setting: Forks, Washington, on the way from Forks High, then at the Cullen Residence and surrounding grounds, October 18th 2003, late afternoon and evening.
Warning: The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.
We had arrived in Forks a couple months ago, on the edge of the Olympic Natural Park. We had settled in our brand new, glass manufactured, open to Mother Nature, modern, wooden mansion, that Esme had had so much fun and delight restoring and decorating. The mansion was actually amazing and Esme knew what she was doing, I just couldn't bring myself to appreciate it. Not that I would have commented on it, no certainly not: Esme had Alice, Edward or her precious Carlisle for that.
It had been two months and I was miserable, that was, as miserable as a Hale could be. Truth be told, the Cullen might have been more miserable than me, for 'miserable' to a Hale, means unbearable to the rest of the world.
It was another of these days, when the roaring of my BMW M3 was a soothing song to my ears, but not even that melody could calm my nerves. I was driving back from school to the Cullen Residence as fast as my red baby allowed me to and that was fast. Emmett was in the passenger seat, while Jasper and Alice had decided to ride with Edward in his boring Volvo. Volvos were good cars, and some were actually very stylish, but Edward, have taste in cars? He was as bad with cars as he was good at music, and considering how music was about the only thing I admired about Edward, that was saying a lot.
We had left Denali, thank God, but not at a convenient time. Emmett was finally starting to realize what I had been telling him about us and how our relationship just wasn't working for him. We had been able to discuss separating. He had even grown closer to Tanya, the blond and popular succubus Cullen's cousin of the great North, who after being rejected time and again by Edward had eventually realized my Emmett was actually a handsome and capable man as well.
Not that she was the woman Emmett should be with, certainly not! But he needed a transition. An experimented, very sexually active transition, that would reassure him in his manhood, fulfill his long restrained needs and help him blow off some steam. He could fall in love and find a mate later, but only after he had gotten over his hormonal teenager deprived of sex for 70 years … Well besides the few extra-conjugal amusement I had encouraged him to have. So, yes, later, when he would be satiated of the blond thing, and possibly her sisters, we could find him a nice, gentle vampire girl, with pretty non-blond hair, sweet and actually well mannered to make him happy for eternity.
So it was working just fine, another few months and Emmett would have had been doing what Emmett should have had been doing for decades, which is actually fucking somebody's brains out for real and realizing I was not it. And why, would I want that? Well because then, we would have had officially separated, he would have had agreed after a while to sign the divorce papers Jasper would have had drawn up for us, Emmett would have a rightful chance to happiness, a chance to live the life he deserved, and, I would be free to leave, they would be free of me.
Free, as in liberated of my marriage, of Alaska, of Carlisle's and Esme's contrite faces of sympathy at my failed marriage … that was not a marriage. Only they didn't know really, because they all thought I was too traumatized to have a fulfilling sexual life. They all thought, thanks to Edward stupid gift and their stupid nosiness that I was desperately in love but frigid forever.
All but Alice, of course, but that was an entirely different story.
I was not desperately in love with Emmett, nor eternally frigid. I loved my Emmett, my best friend, my man, my sweet, loving and caring Emmett, my knight in shining armor, my eager puppy-dog boy. I loved my friend, and we were truly very fond of each other, but he would never be 'it' for me, he was missing some attributes and had too much of others.
I had known that for a good forty years, and sometimes it felt more like I had known it my whole existence. So, yes, I was happy to leave Denali, except it had not been for a decade or two on my own in my New York heaven, or the rest of the civilized world for that matter. No, it had been for 'nowheresville' Forks, Washington, USA, and its 3,120 inhabitants, but worse than that, its high school. We were going to high school all over again, and Emmett, was back to being his old lovely self, preventing my every need, instead of exploring his libido.
Emmett knew I loved women. He knew of my affairs and my trips. He knew I didn't love him that way, not anymore, if I ever did. He knew but he could not move on from me of his own accord, he felt responsible, he loved me, he was my husband, my companion, and we were not unhappy, actually we had great times. I knew he would not leave me unless I made him do so, or until I met a vampire woman who would steal me my heart from him. So I had put in motion operation 'sex Emmett away from Rosalie', and was it ever working.
That is, until Carlisle announced we were returning to our old haunt of Forks, Washington.
Once in Forks, we had focused on getting situated and enrolled in Forks High: Jasper, Emmett and I as juniors, Edward and Alice as freshmen. Carlisle was happy at the hospital and Esme was happy being a stay-at-home mom. We were all supposedly happy at being adopted and rich teenagers: a big happy family for eternity … or so were we supposed to be.
I sighed. All the pretense was weighing down on me, and I couldn't bear faking ease and happiness, when things clearly weren't that way for me at all. I pulled in the driveway. The garage doors were already opened, and I could see Carlisle's Series 7 Sedan parked in its usual spot, close to Esme's Z4 Roadster. I added my M3 to the picture. We were the perfect family poster for BMW. I exited my car and closed the driver's door gently, before storming out of the garage, through the back door, crossing the entrance hall/room where Esme and Carlisle were waiting to greet us home from school.
I walked steaming, past the both of them announcing.
"I am done … That's it! C'est terminé, finis, je n'y retournerai plus, point final !"
It was done, over, I was not going back, period!
French was such an appropriate language for exasperation, over the years, and I had that I would always rely on French when I was upset, or exasperated. And that was precisely my feeling. Stupid high school! Stupid human children! It was stupid, aggravating and boring me to death. I wanted to get away. I wanted to live, to be myself, to make my own choices, to get rid of the frustration that was sticking to my skin. I wanted out, out of my golden cage, restricted to what I was expected to be for the sake of pretense. I had had enough, enough of the masquerade.
I stormed up the stairs with the same attitude and went into my bedroom and removed the clothes I was wearing as I walked into my closet. I retrieved a pair of faded blue jeans, one of my favorite designer ripped on two layers t-shirt, and a pair of classic Vans shoes. I dressed, and went to my coiffeuse, sitting down in front of the mirror. I looked at myself for a couple minutes, aggravated, and then decided to pull my hair in a very loose ponytail. I placed my cell phone on the table, with my car keys, and took off my wedding band as well as all my jewelry, even my Cullen's crest, throwing it with the mix in the bowl I always used to empty my pockets or my purse in.
I went back down the stairs as angrily as I had climbed them, to find the entire family gathered in the living room, looking at me.
"What?" I spat at them.
"Babe … I think everybody is just wondering if you're okay …" Emmett said diplomatically.
"What does it look like?" I snarled. I was so ready to be alone.
"Rosalie dear, is something the matter? Did something happen at school today?" Esme asked me lovingly, a frown of concern adorning her traits. "You have been so upset these past couple of months."
"No, nothing happened, I am perfectly fine." My reply was layered heavily with sarcasm. "And now if you would all excuse me, I am going hunting."
God, I needed to kill something …
"You're extremely upset and frustrated Rosalie." Jasper said in his calm, slow southern voice. I looked at him, and the concern on his face. His feelings were genuine and real, and he was not trying to use his power to calm me down. He actually knew better than try that, but he was telling me he could if I needed him to.
Jasper, my 'twin' by all accounts, was, beside Emmett, my favorite man in the Cullen family. We understood each other, there was no need for excessive conversation, not like there needed to be with all the those other talkative Cullen. When we did have one, it was usually very educated and inspired, on philosophical or historical subjects, though anthropology and languages were also our favorites. We had a shared sense of logic and analysis, and we could always find common grounds in our disagreements. We were different, yet we appreciated each other's singularity, and in that way we were the same.
"Did you just now come to realize this, Jasper? I'm impressed with your acumen! I will go now and express those marvelous emotions by killing something ..." I stated again, reaching for the door.
Only to be interrupted from my purpose by none other than his lordship Edward 'pain in the ass' Cullen.
"Rosalie, you hunted yesterday, and you deliberately are hiding your thoughts. What is going on?" He then asked, stepping between me and the front door.
I gave him a death glare and thought clearly: "The 'something' to kill ought to move out of my way if it values its existence …"
"Or someone …" I added smiling, for everyone's benefit, then continued:
"I said that I am not going back to high school, that I am done. And now, as I already told you, I will be going to hunt. Now," I said, directly to Edward, "if you will excuse me …"
I glared at Edward, forcing him out of my way, then unimpeded, finally departed the house.
I felt more than heard Emmett follow me, and I was about to tell him off when Alice's chiming voice interrupted him and said:
"I would not do that if I were you, Emmett …"
I shook off the looks piercing my back and with that, I darted toward the woods, leaving them behind me and quite happy to do so.
I ran for a while, about half-way into our territory, and the turned North toward Canada. I went deep into the forest, as deeply as I could go before reaching Seattle. I stopped and closed my eyes as I breathed in deeply, tuning myself to the lively rumbling of the forest. I could hear the birds, the movement of hooded on the mossy grounds, the little clicks of insects climbing up and down branches. I could hear water running, and the wind singing. I focused more on the scents though, the amazing scents of moss and humus, the pine and giant sequoias resin, the humidity, carrying the fragrance of so many different flowers and grass, I could not identify them all. I could smell the traces of animal presence, many deer, a mountain lion looking for its dinner, a mother bear with her cub, some wolves and interestingly enough, a few moose.
I decided on the moose, I had not done that in a while. Moose was Esme's favorite, therefore, to be willfully contrarian, I had decided to stay away from them. She would have been excessively delighted to know I actually liked her favorite. However, I was feeling quite defiant at the moment and since Esme was not here after all, I could have my fun with her favorite dinner. I leaped in the closest tree and crouched on a mid-level branch. I closed my eyes again. I didn't like hunting using my eyes, though I could have simply find the tracks and followed them straight to my prey. No, what I liked was to listen to my prey, sense it, and smell it. I liked hunting from above, leaping from branch to branch, rock to rock, avoiding the ground entirely.
I could have run and raced with my prey, like Edward or charged it head-on, like Emmett. He was such a brute, he found his prey and charged it, ramming into it as hard as he could without pulverizing the poor animal. Carlisle and Esme were more refined in their hunting: they liked to circle their prey, and then go for the quick kill. Jasper was more strategic: he liked to decide where he would have his prey and pushed it until it couldn't do anything but go where he had chosen, then he would kill his prey in a very clean movement. Alice was all over the place, unsurprisingly: she was moody in her hunting, but whatever she felt like, she was lethal, albeit graceful, her kills were always beautiful, in a very disturbing way. I was as agile as she was graceful, as Edward was fast or Emmett strong. I liked aerial tracking because it was difficult, but extremely stimulating.
I knew about the Cullen killing styles because I liked to track them during their hunting, without their knowledge. I even had Edward fooled, but not Alice, no one should ever bet against Alice. It had been a game between us for a several decades. She would sometimes go hunting alone, without Jasper, and I would track her, hard and fast, as to see if her gift would recess when she was actually giving ways to her instincts. I had surprised her a few times, in the middle of her kills, but we also had a couple of fights. She was a feisty little thing when she was all excited by the hunt, and we were vampires, our instincts could take over the best of us quite easily, especially while hunting. She had pouted and whined several times that it was not fair that I would not let her hunt me. I had granted her permission a very few selected times, but the outcome had been quite unexpected.
The hunt was a thread of mixed emotions for me, and I hunted alone, as a Hale should.
I was listening attentively for my moose, the couple that were in the area, and I patiently waited, until I heard them. The sound of antlers, crashing into each other, that was very specific to moose, especially the males, because of their palmate antlers. I bounced to the next trunk in the direction of the sound and ran on several big branches, jumping and leaping, enthralled by the excitement and speed of my movements, in the direction of my moose. It was being playful, with another young male, in a tiny clearing by a river. Actually, there was a nice pond of water not far at all, with pretty flat rocks and a small waterfall, as I recognized the area, and I realized it probably was where they regrouped for water.
I was debating on making my presence known to the animal, so they would start running, and prolong my hunt, but I decided against it. It was crueler than I felt like being right then, and being so close to the animals, I could smell the scent of their blood, hear the melodious song of their powerful hearts, feel the rush of strength in their contracting muscles.
I felt the venom rush to my mouth, the birth of moisture between my thighs, and I knew my eyes had turned ebony black. I felt the rest of the world disappear from my peripheral vision, from my mind, from my heart. I felt my focus, zoomed on the moose, dismissing my emotions entirely, but the joy of my future kill. I climbed higher in my tree, looming above my prey, standing tall, on the branch. I opened my arms and dived, face first, waiting until the very last moment to shift, feet first, landing graceful and frightening, on the soft ground, just in front of them, one knee to the ground, already aiming for the first male, grabbing his antlers, laying him to the ground in one swift movement, to the side, breaking his neck with a forceful torsion. I looked up and leaped after the second moose that had recovered from the shock of my attack and had darted toward the woods. In a few jumps I was in a tree, locating the moose easily, and gaining on him with every leap.
I caught up to him and jumped on his back, again grabbing the antlers, and then, after sliding off his back to his left side, I planted both my feet on the ground, turning the moose with the strength of my momentum, laying him to the ground, I kneeled beside him. While he was still breathing hard from his run and numb from his fear and adrenaline, I sank my teeth in his carotid artery, swallowing eagerly a couple times, as his blood was pulsating in my mouth, before ending the beast's sufferings. I embraced his large figure and lay against the warm, soft coat of the gentle animal, as I drank from him, slowly … it was heavenly.
The taste was actually nicer than deer. Moose blood was richer, and more flowery. I reveled in the freshness and thickness of the animal's blood, feeling my entire body relax, my arousal growing deliciously, and surrendering to the satisfaction of my kill and the sustenance it was giving me. Drinking blood was orgasmic. There was no other word for it. Even the blood of animals was orgasmic, I was not sure how to imagine drinking human blood could be, and really it was safer not to go there. Drinking blood usually made me sexually stimulated, and it was one of the reasons why I hunted alone. It was not uncommon for me to undo my jeans and satisfy my own needs during my hunts, and I really did not need any witness for that.
Once the second moose was dry, I walked back with its corpse to the first moose I had killed in the clearing. I deposited my burden not far from it and walked to my first prey. It was bigger, and its coat was darker as well. I kneeled in front of it, closed my eyes in anticipation and sank my teeth into its throat letting the warm precious liquid flow into my mouth, slowly, because the animal was dead, its heart was not pumping at all anymore. I was actually moaning of satisfaction, enjoying my heaven on earth.
It was then that I felt a shiver run from the back of my head to my finger tips.
Somebody was watching me.
I would very much like to dedicate this story to the amazing, talented, incredible and unexpected BoozeMoose.
I didn't know there was in this world someone like you, someone who could be so much, feel so much and understand so much, as you walk calmly and peacefully, comfortable and confident in my world of chaos and passion, when I struggle with each of the vibrating things that I feel, trying so hard to expand and extend, to be me, the best of me, tearing the walls that rebuild themselves every time I take them apart, and never stop, never ever stop.
You are also vulnerable and delicate, and I can't help but love, that temper of yours, and that smug grin you wear, so full of yourself you are.
Esme, you represent her so well, and she fits into you beautifully. There is only you, who could make me give you Rosalie, and so unexpectedly.
Enjoy your story Tyger.
With all my love,