Your Heart Is An Empty Room
Rating: T, though this is subject to change.
Pairing: Rosemmett! Rosalie King/Emmett McCarty as humans
Setting: Current, 1941
Summary: Rosalie King was unhappy with married life, and so she enters a world strange and new to her. One where she's in love, and loved. One where her love is under a death sentance.
Prologue
The year was 1937 and Rosalie Hale had become Rosalie King only a few years before.
Married life was not how she'd expected it to be. Surely it wasn't like this with everybody. Intimacy seemed to mean nothing. Life between the sheets was torturous, and also slightly bipolar. Sometimes Royce was so aggressive he would scare her, and other times he'd be gentle and loving and tell her how much she meant to him. However, the former was now what was the most frequent. He was never home, he didn't satisfy her, and she knew he wasn't faithful.
Somehow all these years had toned down her vanity. Being told all the time that you were worthless did that to a girl. Days of loneliness spread out in front of her, like the dust bowls of the prairies. Rosalie really had nothing to do. The Great Depression had not been hard on Rosalie, and she didn't understand it at all. If anything, the more house foreclosure's there were for others, the more money Royce brought home to the table. She wasn't starved from anything except lust and the attention she'd been accustomed to.
Royce would remind her every night that he wanted an heir but he didn't even attempt to make one every night. It was clear that this heir was to be male. It was clear that if she couldn't provide it, there would be dire consequences, and for that she felt like Anne Boleyn. Worried, a social climber, and not in love.
But that year, on December 13, 1937, she was told that she was indeed pregnant and she, believe it or not, was even more thrilled then her husband. Days with child were so much better then regular days. Even a fetus could keep her better company with their made, the illegal immigrant Rose thought herself too good to keep company with. Some pride didn't wash away, and Rosalie was a proud girl.
But as the snow washed off the ground, Rosalie hadn't gotten any bigger, and she cried herself to sleep as she realized she wasn't pregnant. She blamed herself, as did Royce, yelling at her, poisoning her belief system. And she sat idly by as he did it to her.
Years passed and nothing changed. She was raped nearly every night and didn't defend herself, until the day of December 5, 1941, when Royce gave her a blow to the shoulder and asked her if she'd "Ever get pregnant!" She asked him if maybe it was him shooting blanks. He bruised her up pretty bad, but coverable. Then he left for work, and with tears streaming down her face, she packed her things. She didn't even write a note, surely he'd know that she was gone when every single thing she cared about was missing from the cupboards. All these years had been terrible things to live with, but she'd sat by and let him do it. She didn't regret a thing, either, she was happy to have been moulded by the events that had passed by her.
With her bag, her wallet and dignity she got into her car and drove. Just drove for so long, not caring where she was going. Fate had a plan for her, even if Rosalie had given up on fate, god or religion. The stars were aligned in a certain way, and were pointing right towards Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
She caught a train, leaving the car in a parking lot. She needed to leave this world for awhile, and booked the first available train. She didn't eat anything, still proud about her figure. She instead merely drank a little water from a glass, looking out the window and feeling utterly alone.
On the third day somebody sat next to her. "We're at war," they told her, and her eyes widened. She knew there was a war in Europe, but them in it? She imagined Royce going over with a smile. Of course he would. That's what made it so great. His father had been in the first war, and Royce would go. As an officer though, and only at his father's request. He'd hate every minute of it. After two hours, the man got off, and she was alone.
She had nobody beside her, and so she decided to lap the country. She travelled for four days, before she went down to third class. She'd never known money conservation. She stopped in Nashville, and a man stepped into her compartment which was otherwise empty. She didn't even look up at him until he spoke.
"So it's only us." he said, a smile on his face. Rosalie looked up, and caught his eye.
And everything was in Technicolor. She could see everything about this man. She could see how he was bold, funny, caring, delightful. She was smitten, and lustful. He looked like a teddy bear, and she desperatly wanted to cuddle him. Then she noticed something about him. He was in uniform, and because of that she knew he was under the same death sentance as her husband would be.
Authors Note: The prologue is kind of short. Sorry about that. Please do review, as it will encourage me to write! If you find any mistakes, point them out and I will correct them.