So...I tried my hand at some Twilight fanfiction! This comes from a deleted scene of the prom business, from Stephanie Meyer's site, where Edward has a Vanquish as his "date car", and he mentions that Rosalie likes to fiddle around with "the innards of cars", and that she fixed up (coughTRICKEDUPcough) that car for him.
Nothing belongs to me! For lunamaria's challenge. Thanks to Suki for betaing!
I sigh, looking at the gorgeous car in front of me. A silver Aston Martin, pristine condition, Edward's "special occasion" car. Honestly, the car is far too good of a date car for Bella, but since when did Edward listen to me where she's concerned? Naturally, the car still doesn't go fast enough for him, so he came to me to fix it up a little. Toying with the engine of a Vanquish would seem crazy or difficult to any human mechanic, but it's not a problem for me.
I put up my wavy blonde hair in a haphazard, yet elegant, bun and get out my state-of-the-art "tool box". Emmett calls it a tool box jokingly, but it's actually just full of various assorted foreign car parts. My hands work many times better than any tool could. Edward finds it amusing that, while I can't stand to have a single hair out of place, getting my hands dirty doesn't bother me at all. There's something soothing about working with cars. The graceful interlocking mechanisms don't have a single superfluous thing and, while they are mortal, they have longer lifespans than most car parts and are easily replaceable. They're a lot like us…us Cullens. They're more graceful, more beautiful, and more useful than ordinary car parts. They stay in lovely cars like this Vanquish for their whole lifetimes, but…for what? To be replaced when they get old? To be feared by ordinary mechanics, used harshly by their drivers?
That's the problem. What will happen to us? Will we still have to live in secrecy for all eternity, always wary not to let others discover what we are? I'm worried about what will happen to our family. And Edward? What about him? He was so rash to fall in love—or so he says, anyway—with a human, but he doesn't even take the time to think? What will he do when she gets old? When she dies? Does he really think they can still be together? And that silly girl, she thinks she's ready to turn, but she just doesn't get it. She doesn't understand that she's giving up her whole life—and the hereafter—for this purgatory of vampirism. She just doesn't get it at all. And that's what bothers me about her. She's a human, with all the faults, all the beauties, and that sheer transience so exclusive to them.
I sigh again, turning back to the matter at hand. Getting any car, even an Aston Martin, to go from 0 to 150 in 60 seconds is a difficult enough challenge in and of itself.