Title: Eyes
Author: Alia Ziaen
Summary: Rosalie has a harder time adjusting to one aspect of her new self than any other.
Time Period: Pre-Twilight
Characters: Rosalie, Emmett
Author's Note: Please let it be noted that I know nothing about cars. This is just a little fluffy Emmett/Rosalie bit that was supposed to be something else entirely and decided to turn into this. I write really short vigs. Sorry, and enjoy!
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It wasn't something she could ever get used to.
Every time she looked in the mirror, she cringed away from it. At first, the red eyes had scared her more than anything she'd ever seen before, but that was gradually lessened by the magnitude of her beauty. If only Royce could see her now, he'd wish he'd never – well, she made sure he wished he'd never met her.
As her eyes changed, so did she. She adjusted to her new life, although it took much longer than it had for any of the others. She clung with everything she had to her old life, going so far as to watch her family silently from the outside.
Once she got past the bloodlust, she could focus more on the horrors that were her eyes. Of all the things that she missed the most about her physical appearance from when she was human, it was the color of her eyes. Everything else was perfect, more than perfect, but there was that one thing that wasn't.
All of this changed when Emmett came along. They'd been married for some time before he broached the subject of their – her – eyes.
"Why do they bother you?" he'd asked, and she hadn't been sure of how to respond. How to explain this without making herself seem shallow. She was shallow, she knew that. How could she look the way she did and not be?
She considered for a moment, leaning with her arms crossed against the wall of the garage where he was working on his car. She was there in case anything went terribly wrong that he couldn't fix. "I – it's the only part of me that isn't normal," she said, frowning at the way the words sounded when she said them.
Her big oaf laughed, that booming laugh that she loved so much. "Hon, there's nothing about you that is even remotely normal."
Rosalie smiled at him, then shifted her gaze towards her own car without really seeing it. How else to explain? "It's an imperfection. It's – the part of me that most obviously isn't human."
Her use of that word – human – seemed to straighten it all out for Emmett. He didn't say anything for a while, just stared at the engine of his car, fiddling with something. "I think your eyes are beautiful," he said, glancing up at her. "No matter what color they are."
She stared at the floor a minute, then smiled at him. "Thanks, dear."
After that, she found the color of her eyes didn't matter so much.