It was always something that bothered her, an annoying sting that always lingered when she parted her forever perfect lips to speak. She never meant to be intentionally rude, and she didn't ever want to purposefully hurt the one thing that had made her brother Edward happy after so many years of loneliness.

But when the words were out of her mouth, they couldn't be taken back. Her tone did nothing to lessen the disapproval laced in the sentences that followed, and the look of dejection that she keenly saw in Isabella's face actually spurred a twinge of guilt within the blonde vampire. But it was merely her opinion, and she wouldn't change it. A century later, she still would not change her mind on the topic. It was a touchy one at that, and Rosalie was as unflinching a soul as they came.

Children were always in her dreams, it was something from which she could never tear her thoughts. Each day, it hurt more. Every lust-filled night of passion, it throbbed mournfully at the forefront of her mind. Rosalie's intentions were always pure and chaste. Her brutality was merely a facade and Emmett was the only one who had ever called her bluff. He understood her pain, her suffering. He made her feel like a woman again, albeit a non-living soul. But, most of all, Emmett made a promise that he would never go back on.

The blonde and dark-haired vampires were definitely a pair. His carefree attitude always seemed to be masked by the dreading rudeness that was Rosalie. But for anybody who looked close enough, it wasn't a rift at all, it was a joint of personality. The two were always such opposites that they attracted, quite literally, to each other. They were perfect complements, adding together to create something that was rare in the immortal lives.

It would take a few more decades, perhaps even another century, but they were both working eagerly. It was a secret only uttered between the two in silent glances and stolen kisses, nights of love and mornings of smiles. The very idea was ridiculous, they knew others in the family would think. Impossible, even. But after a long while of living this life, the couple knew well that everything on this earth was within reason. Adoption. That too was reachable. First, they'd both curve their desires for the liquid of life, become more and more like the father-figure they had so longed to embody, though in secret. A promise to train themselves, in order to live a life where a child of their own, their names on the paper and on the human's mind as "mother" and "father," could be a reality. Nobody, they promised each other with a kiss, would take their dream.

Promises, one after another, spilled from their lips as they planned their future. Cold, pink-tinged lips slid over a porcelain neck framed by golden curls, and he received an instant reply in a soft breath. It was clear all her power to fight had faded at Emmett's touch, and she relaxed into his arms almost like a beaten child. She was tired and angry, but only at herself. And Rosalie prayed to any god she could trust that the bronze-haired hadn't been sifting through her thoughts when the images of a bright-eyed golden young girl she could call her own made her eyes sting with tears that would never fall. It wasn't impossible, she wouldn't accept that.

"I promise."