A.N: This story was written for a swap community on live-journal, with assigned prompts. I was told to write fluff, which I have never done before, and never plan to again.
In other news: If you have a scene of the series which you would like to see from Emmett, Jasper, or Edward's POV, send me a PM, and I'll see what I can do! (I'm not sure what I want to write next, so you guys choose something.)
DecoratingI shifted slightly on the sofa, and pulled Rosalie closer to me. It was a long weekend for Forks High, and we'd taken the opportunity to hunt further away. I'd rented a tiny cabin by the side of a lake - so we could enjoy some alone time somewhere new.
In the main room, the sofa we were lying on stood in front of a wide window looking out over the water.
"It is a beautiful view, Emmett," Rosalie sighed.
"I know."
"It's just a shame it had to rain."
The offending substance plopped off the corners of the roof, forming muddy puddles on the ground outside. It pattered on the window, a soothing background noise.
"I know what we can do inside," she said, turning her head towards me. I chuckled, running my hands down her arms.
"Now that sounds like a good idea." She swatted me away playfully.
"You know that's not what I meant."
I let out a mock sigh.
"It was worth a try."
"Esme is going to Seattle in a couple of weeks to look at fabrics for curtains and stuff. She says we need to think about what we might like the room to be like."
This was something I hadn't anticipated. I wasn't particularly interested in the decorating. As long as Rosalie was happy, I was happy with it.
I enjoyed helping Esme while she made curtains, holding up the ends for her, and pinning hooking them onto the rails. And once the paint was bought, I would help paint the walls. It reminded me of my human life, when everyone helped with everything.
"So what did you have in mind?" I asked.
"Hmm..." she shuffled around to face me. "I'd like it to be a warm room, something cheerful. But I'd like it to be different from Denali, so not yellow walls."
"What about white? It's always good. And it's easy."
I knew Rosalie would never choose to paint our room white. It was just too easy, too common. She smiled, knowing I was teasing.
"Lilac might be good. Or a light blue."
"I thought blue was cold"
"It can be, but think about the sky on a sunny day. Do you think that would be nice?"
I pictured the room in my head, and painted over the current green walls. That would look good. I knew Rosalie was beautiful against any color, but a warm sky blue would be nice. We had some great times on sunny days, away from the public eye. That brought a smirk to my face. I could enjoy being reminded of that whenever I went into the room.
"Emmett McCarty, I can tell by your face that you are not thinking about decorating. Please bring yourself back to the present."
I smiled into her eyes.
"But it was such a nice memory, love. Do you remember what we did last week in the sun?"
She folded her arms across my chest and tried to glare at me.
"Yes, I do. Focus. I want to have pale colors on the bed, and matching curtains. We can put in a new wardrobe in the corner by the window, and maybe have a set of drawers at the end of the bed."
"What about chairs?" I prompted.
She paused for a moment to consider this. No doubt she already knew every last detail of what she wanted in the room, but it was nice to pretend and talk about it.
"I want one to go at a dressing table for me. But I want to take you furniture shopping sometime so we can find you a good chair."
I pretended to look affronted.
"Are you saying I don't suit your chairs?"
She laughed and snuggled closer to me.
"That's such a funny image, you perched on a delicate stool, trying not to fall off. We'll have to take a picture of that once we've bought it."
I curled my arm around her and pressed my face to her hair.
What else did we need in a room, I mused? A desk would be good for – sigh – homework. I fancied a large, but simple, wooden one.
"What do you think of a wooden desk, Rose?" I asked.
"Ooh, that's a good idea. We haven't done 'traditional' before, have we?"
We'd had a few bedrooms since we were married, and they had all had different themes and colors, but we hadn't ever done traditional wood before. One of the things I knew Rosalie liked about moving around so often was getting to redecorate each time. It meant you had the chance to try everything and anything you thought would be nice.
"So, wooden wardrobes as well, then?" I asked.
"Yes, and I saw some cool bedside tables recently with sliding tops that were made to look wooden. We could find something fun like that," she confirmed.
I smiled as I watched her face light up while she talked about plans and hopes for the future. In some ways, Rosalie was still the girl who would have taken pride in keeping house for her children while her husband worked.
"And there are some lovely wooden beds out there," she continued, as she thought. "We could find a big old-fashioned four-poster, with a canopy and everything. That would suit the location in the woods – all mysterious and unusual."
"You don't need to have a fancy bed to make you seem mysterious, love," I whispered, holding her close. "Although I can think of some very interesting things we could do with one."
She laughed at my suggestion, kissing me with her beautiful lips.
"What about the bathroom?" she asked, looking up at me. "What shall we do with it?"
"Well, for a start, we need to put in a shower." I saw the look on her face, and hastily added, "We can get a bath too, no worries."
That's the thing about baths – they're all very well if you want to lie around and … erm, soak, but it's a nightmare trying to clean up properly when you're sitting down.
"There's enough room in there to have a large shower and a big bath," Rose pointed out.
This was true – not only was the bedroom huge, it also had an enormous en suite.
"We'll get you a nice marbled bath with fancy shiny taps," I promised. "A Jacuzzi bath like we had in Denali would be fun."
"That would be great," my angel agreed, smiling with enthusiasm.
"Think of all the fun we can have with that," I grinned, rolling onto my side so she was beside me.
She giggled, slipping her hands over my back, and I nuzzled her hair, letting a soft growl escape me.
With the plans soon forgotten, I lay with my love in the cottage by the lake. The rain continued to fall outside, but our minds were elsewhere.
This was what holidays were really about, I mused later: spending time with Rosalie, talking and laughing, without the distractions of everyday life. I was content here, holding her close, planning for the future.
I didn't need anything else.