Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or this would have happened in the books.

AN: So I decided I wanted to write a non-AU story while working on Rebirth (which I am writing the next chapter to RIGHT NOW) and this is what my mind came up with. This story is inspired the the song "Drown" by Bring Me the Horizon; give it a listen if you'd like to hear what was in my head while coming up with the plot. I'm hoping to continue this as a shorter story than Rebirth will pan out to be. There aren't nearly enough Twilight femslash stories with Esme, so I thought I'd give my own little contribution. Hope you all enjoy.

I flipped the pencil around between my fingers, willing myself not to break it as the humans around me tried to be subtle with their petty conversations. My fingers nearly trembled with the effort to be gentle as the hushed voices of teen girls battled over their crushes and whether they "liked them back" or not.

I knew I shouldn't be as judgmental as I was, my own romantic life a strange, morbid reflection of their own, but it couldn't be helped. They were young, warm, and naive, their blood coursing through their veins innocently as they waited for their Prince Charmings to sweep them up and start a family—something I'd never have the pleasure of knowing.

I sighed quietly and set the pencil down, drumming my fingers against the desk as my eyes darted to the clock. Just ten more minutes and I could escape for a while. Maybe I would make it all the way to Canada this time. I just really needed to get away, stay away from the place that housed the three things I couldn't stand to be near. I just hoped Alice wouldn't see this in time to assemble the family into a blockade.

The subtle yet near-constant stench of La Push faded slowly as I ran, the trees changing in type and sparseness signaling my departure from Washington. Once I was over the border I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and letting the fresh air wash over me. It was great to get away, to have my thoughts and hypothetical plans to myself, and these moments felt more and more precious each time I managed to steal away for the night. I scented the air briefly to make sure I wasn't followed before scaling a cliff that looked out over the ocean.

I tried not to let my thoughts drift too far, as I wanted the time to just be, but inevitably my thoughts turned back to the troubles at home, the troubles in our little "family" as Carlisle had come to call it.

Carlisle. The name made me cringe slightly, a habit I had picked up recently that was growing more and more difficult to suppress around the rest of our coven. They say his power is incredible control, but I beg to differ. How else could he have kept her by his side for so long, never questioning, yet seemingly happy? I knew her human past, not so different from my own, had to play a small role in it, but his hold over her after all these years still caused me to bristle.

As I sat and resigned to thinking of her yet again, I remembered my first decade after the change. The family was much smaller then, a stereotypical "family unit" with the two of them at the top, Edward and myself as their "children." Edward spent much of his time traveling, something I think I should have done more of. Perhaps things would have been easier that way. But would I have traded those early days away? Hardly.

I can still remember how she treated me then, before I learned to put up my walls and become indifferent to how my life—and then my death—was taken away from me. Her kind eyes and gentle smiles directed nearly exclusively to me, a delicate hand on my shoulder, or perhaps lower, the memory of which still sent a jolt of excitement to my core. Even years after reclaiming the firm exterior of a Hale a mere memory of her touch could affect me so deeply. No matter how many times I'd tried to shake it off, to build up my walls taller than the Empire State building, she slipped through cracks I never knew existed.

Growling quietly at my loss of composure, I rose from my perch and turned back to the forest. This wasn't how I wanted the night to go, and it wasn't even halfway over. I closed my eyes and scented the air, willing my instincts to overtake my thought. I caught wind of some elk and let my body do the rest.

The hunt effectively numbed me on the outside. It was painfully obvious how I couldn't escape her, couldn't escape the "family" we shared back in Washington anymore, even miles away. As if watching her live comfortably with Carlisle wasn't enough, I had a husband back home, and my idiot brother Edward was considering taking everything I'd ever wanted before my change away from a human girl who couldn't possibly understand the things she thought she felt for him. I focused on that to bring back my "ice queen" facade as I made my way back to the podunk town of Forks.

In a way, I was glad Edward was being an absolute moron. It gave me something new to focus on, a different emotion to fixate on so nobody knew the wiser. So nobody knew that the "impenetrable" Rosalie Lillian Hale was driving herself to madness.

The stench of the La Push mutts grew nearly unbearable, and I knew I was back in Forks. I slowed my pace to a jog as the trees thinned out around the house Carlisle chose for our "family." I could hear Edward playing the piano upstairs, and I instantly threw up my mental walls—some bullshit about a new outfit I saw, some admittedly cruel statements about his human's inability to understand anything at her age. Straightening my clothes and hair out, I walked up to the large glass doors out back.

The thing about being and living with a group of vampires is nobody ever sleeps. So anybody could be around, doing something or waiting for someone, at any time. I was hoping nobody was waiting for me, but my hopes were dashed as soon as I walked up the stairs and saw my bedroom door ajar. I nearly paused in confusion and mild anxiety, but the Rosalie this coven knows halts for nothing.

I gently pushed the door open, peering around it to meet whoever was in my room. I held my breath, refusing to scent the air—I had no real desire to know who was there. As the door swung open, I nearly cursed out loud as my eyes met amber pools of concern. Her name somersaulted out of my mouth, instead.

"Esme..."

AN 2: Sort of a cliffie, I guess, ahha. This is the first time I've written from Rose's POV, so any critique on it is welcome! I'm sort of going for the whole "the ice queen exterior is just that—an exterior" deal, and I do want to get into some of the darker parts of Rosalie's past and personality at some point in this story. A bit of an unconventional pairing, but one of my favorites! Reviews help me improve, so please let me know how I'm doing :)