Okay, so I know I should be updating my longer fics - I'm working on it! And I'm also still strongly a Blackwater fan, but I've gotten into this pairing lately and had to get this idea out! :] Besides, the weather is crazy, it's been a blizzard outside for the last three or four hours :S So today school was closed, and I got this written this morning instead. I know a lot of people don't like this pairing at all, so I'm not expecting many reviews to be honest :L But who knows? Maybe I'll make some converts out of you yet! :D Before I go, any Brits out there? If so, hope you're all okay, especially if you're further up North (I'm on the South-East coast). If it's this bad down here, well...be careful, guys! x

Hope you enjoy! Oh, and I know I've taken a few liberties and Rosalie is a bit OOC. She's supposed to be that way :].

Em xx

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :L

She didn't know how she had allowed this to happen. In all her existence she had never done something as stupid as this. It was reckless, and unreasonable, and completely unbelievable.

As a rule, they were supposed to loathe each other. She was Blondie, he was Fido. She hated his immature arrogance with every fibre of her inhuman being; he hated her unnatural beauty and her ego, and her sheer bitchiness. Neither would pass up an opportunity to openly mock or insult the other. All a facade. All a lie.

She didn't know if her family knew the truth. Part of her hoped they did. Another part hoped they didn't. She could control her thoughts well enough around Edward for now, but every day it was getting harder and harder. One day soon, one of them would slip up. It could be him or it could be her, but one of them would lose concentration for a split second, and their secret would be out. God only knew what people would say. His family, his friends – they would all be furious. Her family, her friends...well, they would be stunned, but supportive. Eventually. Especially Emmett.

It never ceased to surprise her how long it had taken them to see that they just weren't clicking like they'd used to. Their relationship had changed. He saw her as more of a best friend, a sister, than a lover or a wife; but the 'D' word had dropped from her lips first, and that had sealed the deal. They were now best friends, and best friends only. She knew it had been the right thing to do.

She had still been lonely. No matter how amicable their split had been, it still hurt. And he had been there. And he had understood.

He had been her friend, her shoulder, her comfort. She had broken down one day during a particularly nasty shouting match in the middle of the forest. One small, uncontrollable sob had been all it took, and her mask was broken. He had seen it and he had dithered. And then he had held her as her shoulders shook with noisy, tearless sobs. She had no one, now. No one at all.

But then...a year or so passed and they grew closer, in secret, and somehow they had ended up like this.

She would never admit it to another soul, but he wasn't arrogant at all. Confident, perhaps, but not arrogant. And, for his age, he was the most mature person she had ever known, with a sense of responsibility born from being shoved into the world of the wolf at so young an age. Sure, she was bitchy, but not towards him. Not when they were alone. Never when they were alone.

He was the kindest, most honest, optimistic man she knew. He saw the exterior beauty, the beauty that drew most men to her in the first place, but he also saw past that. He saw the real her, the flaws, the fears, the motherly nature and the selflessness she had been too scared to show, and found that the most beautiful thing about her. He was considerate and good-hearted; he was more gentle and soft than his size suggested, and that struck her as almost kind of fascinating.

But what they were doing was wrong. Difficult, confusing, and wrong.

But it felt so right.

He was fire. She was ice.

They were too different, too separate to exist together. And yet they were. Together they were the sun, the air, the moon, the stars. When she was with him they were one in the same, each the perfect opposite, the perfect missing half of the other, and yet they were alike in countless ways.

She was cold, he was hot. She was pale, he was russet. She was small, in comparison, and he was huge. She was the rich girl, he was the poor boy. But both lost, found. Both broken, both fixed because of the other. Both too far gone to care what the consequences of their actions, their love, may be.

"Rosie?" His voice was husky and low as usual, that same soft, adoring tone he reserved only for her. His breath was hot on the back of her neck, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. She knew this would be their downfall, felt it in her heart as his strong, well-muscled arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, into his chest. This would be their undoing.

"Yeah, Jake?" she whispered. It was so quiet that she wasn't sure he would hear, but he did.

"What's wrong, honey?" Rosalie almost snorted at the irony of it all. After everything that she had been through, it had taken a man who was supposed to be her natural enemy to melt her icy heart. In many ways she was more alive now than she had ever been in life. Rosalie turned in his arms to face him and smiled weakly: he was only wearing a pair of boxers low-slung on his hips, and yet he still held her as close as he could.

She was sure the coldness of her skin burned him more than he admitted, but he insisted it was fine. Any damage would heal quickly. Her touch was his favourite thing, he said, apart from maybe her scent. Now that he searched past the sickly sweetness he knew she smelled like wildflowers and nature – his scent was of forest and summer, and it sent a tingle of warmth through her.

Carefully, she laid a hand over his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath her fingertips; she hated that he wasn't able to fall asleep to her heartbeat, that he could hear the difference between them. Instead she was the one who listened to his heartbeat, and, for a few hours at least, could pretend that she was in the blissful limbo between waking and dreaming. "I woke up, and you weren't there," he murmured, a look of concern now crossing his face. She didn't blame him. There wasn't really an obvious reason why she would leave his side to stand on the little balcony in just her underwear and dressing gown. But she had needed to think. And the cabin had a breathtaking view of the sunrise, anyway. "Is everything alright?"

Rosalie wanted to say no. To tell him that, really, things might never be alright. But she couldn't bring herself to, not when she met his patient gaze and saw the understanding there. His dark, chocolate-brown eyes never failed to amaze her whenever they held her honey-coloured, mascara-lined ones, and it was a few moments before she managed to reply. When she did, only, "We can't keep doing this," came out.

Jacob's expression never changed, remaining thoughtful. She half-suspected he'd known she would say that. "Someone's going to find out," Rosalie continued. "What would people say, Jacob?"

"It doesn't matter what they say," he murmured, brushing her long, curling blonde hair behind her ear. "I don't care if my family is angry, or if I'm a disgrace to my ancestors. I can deal with that. But I couldn't cope if I lost you. I couldn't be without you, now, Rose." Rosalie cursed herself, once again, for allowing this to happen. It was so wrong for him to love her. For her to love him.

"I just...I don't like having to hide." She sighed and moved her arms up and around his neck, fingertips toying with the back of his short, jet black hair.

"Then let's not," he whispered back, and her eyebrows shot up.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"Let's not hide. Let's tell them what's going on. No one will be able to take me away from you. I'll leave, if we have to. Run away, marry you, stay with you...anything, Rosie. Anything."

Rosalie smiled before she could stop herself. It was the smile she saved for him and only him, that lit up her eyes and made her seem to glow. "It would be nice to be able to tell people where we are," she murmured. Even now, her family thought she was at some fashion event for a month or so. Jacob's family thought he was at an Auto Show in Florida. In reality, they had spent the last few weeks together at Rosalie's personal little cabin on the other side of the country. The weather was miserable by necessity, but it was worth it for the month they could spend together without having to hide.

"And it would be nice to be able to kiss you whenever I feel like it," Jake added, and brushed his lips against hers, as if to emphasize his point. Rosalie couldn't help herself – she leaned into the kiss as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Jacob was different; he was real, soft, warm, not cold, hard stone. He made her feel needed, wanted and alive, and she'd told him so the first time her strength had crumbled and she'd given in. With him, she felt almost human.

"How can this be so wrong, and yet feel so right?" It wasn't something she had intended to say aloud, but she found herself whispering it against his lips and knew that, if she could cry, she would be on the verge of tears. How, in any way, was this fair?

"Simple," Jacob murmured back, moving his lips and his attention to the lobe of her ear and her jaw. "It's right, not wrong."

Rosalie hoped he was right this time, too. Jacob had been right when he'd said he would heal her. He'd been right when he'd said he would love her and protect her, even if it was in secret, and would give her the confidence to be herself. Even if it was only around him, for now, Rosalie was kind, caring, loving – all the things she had used to be, before Royce did what he did and Carlisle turned her. When she was with Jake she could hum and sing to herself, could allow herself to be carefree and happy on the outside as well as the inside, without having to think about keeping up her facade. With him, there was no pretending.

The time had come to tell the truth. No matter what the outcome was, they would make it work. They were vampire and werewolf. They were breaking all the rules. They weren't supposed to be together, but being apart was no longer an option. It was too late for that.

She had been frozen, and he had given her warmth.

"Come back to bed?" he mumbled, running a hand through her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead. A small smile appearing on her face, she nodded, and followed him back inside.

If there was one thing that Rosalie had learnt from being with Jacob, it wasn't that love conquered all.

But that fire always melted ice.

Whatcha think? :D I'm about to start getting ready to venture outside (yeah, in a blizzard, with like...snow halfway up my shin. Yeah, I'm insane) with my best friend, DrawnToTheNight, who also happens to be the first to read this :P (if we can make it to the field alive :L) so it would be nice to have some lovely reviews to come home to! :] Love, as alwayss xxxx