REALIZATIONS

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyers owns everything in the land of Twilight. So sad, but true. No infringement intended.

Overture: Connection to Life

"A goodfriend is a connection to life – a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world" —Lois Wyse

. . .

The cracking of the fire is loud to her young ears, but it doesn't matter. The warmth of the flames tickles her skin, making her feel extra toasty. It also doesn't hurt that Rose's best friend is sitting next to her.

Their long, unraveled metal-hangers reach into the fire, melting the doughy marshmallows.

Rosalie shakes her head in disbelief, as she studies her Edward. Heavy blonde hair tumbles into her face and over her small shoulders: how can Edward like his marshmallows all but burnt. That is just gross and silly. Boys are just silly, her young mind thinks.

But it's the price she pays for having a silly boy for a best friend. Her girl friends at school thinks boys are gross, but they are not informed right, or however mom says it.

Plus, Edward's not really a boy – he's her best friend, her confidant, her pillow and her comfort. He is all things good rolled in to one. It is all her young mind is able to comprehend.

A bump to her arm pulls her from distracting thoughts and back to the present. Rose looks to her right and studies Edward. She can't help but think how coppery his hair looks in the firelight. It is memorizing like a spinning copper penny.

"Yours is going to get all burnt, Rosie. Better pull it from the fire." Quickly, she turns and sees her Edward is right.

A panicked squeak leaves her small lips as she hurriedly pulls the dark, dark golden marshmallow from the glowing flames. She refuses to believe it is burnt, no matter the knowing smirk on the silly boy's lips.

"Just how I like it," Rose exclaims stubbornly. She may not truly understand what the word 'pride' means or what it is, but the obstinate, little blonde has it in spades.

Fingers and lips become sticky as she carefully removes the gooey puff from the metal hanger, just as Mrs. Cullen and mommy taught her. Teeth bite into the now cooling puff. So terribly yummy, Rose thinks.

"Mmm, Edward. Mushy with every bite," the girl declares happily, loudly.

Female laughter can be heard from the patio, not far from the roaring flames of the camp fire. Rose pretends not to hear it. This is after all an African Safari she and Edward are embarking on. And their mothers are not watching them carefully from nearby.

And tonight, as they sleep in their tent, they'll have to be quiet, trying not to attraction the attention of lions, elephants and zebras. Because her brother Jasper said lions (and especially Zebras) like to eat kids. And elephants could squash them too easily under their massively ginormously big feet.

But Rosalie's not afraid. Or so she continues to remind herself – Edward will protect her, and she him. That's how being best friends work.

A pink tongue pokes out from between sticky lips as Rose licks the remaining sweetness. It's all they get tonight; four gooey marshmallows are the limit, or so their moms' declared. Parents can be so boring and not imaginative-ing (or however mom says it).

When she and Edward go on a real safari, they can have as many marshmallows as their tummies can handle. Boring parents aren't invited!

After what seems like a million years, Edward finally pulls his burnt puff from the fire. It looks gross and crunchy. Doesn't he know they're 'posed to be fluffy? Duh. Rose can't help but roll her violet eyes. Her boy is so terribly silly!

"What's it taste like? Burnt earth worms?" Edward makes a cute, disgusted face which has Rosalie in hysterics. Her best friend watches as her pretty golden hair tumbles everywhere as she giggles. Unbeknownst to her, he is enchanted by her.

"No, dummy. It tastes like burnt boogers," Edward retaliates, once he stops noticing how shiny Rose's hair looks in the glowing light.

Youthful giggles roll out into the night, warming the atmosphere even more than the fire could.

"You're so terribly silly, Edward," Rose says, between belly-deep laughter.

"And you have yucky cootie, Rose."

Both happy, rose-cheeked children continue to tease each other. Fresh strawberries, grapes and bananas are consumed (moms' orders). They both pretend the fruit is chocolate covered roaches and grasshoppers, while making grossed-out faces to each other.

Deep promises are made in the warmth of the fire: they will be friends forever; Kristie from school likes Edward (even if he is still a gross boy), but he won't ever like her more than his Rose; both will go on lots of adventures together; and most importantly, they'll always make each other laugh.

Rose looks serious as she imparts knowing wisdom to her friend, "Mom says laughter is importin' in any r'lationship. It makes them healthy. We need to always keep us healthy, Edward. Right?" With solemnity, her best friend nods in total agreement.

"My dad says mom is always right," Edward confides to Rose. "Since you are the girl between us, you must be right, Rosie."

A beautiful, innocent smile blooms on the young Rose. They both don't really understand their parents, but it isn't really needed. They comprehend each other completely. Without thought and simultaneously, they both reach for the other's hand.

It doesn't matter that her Edward is terribly yucky, has boy cooties and likes burnt-crunchy marshmallows, he is her best friend. They overlook each other's tiny 'comings (or however mom says it).

On the patio, beyond the memorizing fire and young secrets being shared, both mothers look on with adoration and light hearts.

"Think we shall be family someday, Esme?"

Esme removes the wine glass from her parted lips and stares out at the exquisitely innocent children. She can't help but sigh in peace and happiness.

"Oh, one never knows. But if these two continue holding hands into adulthood, there is a pretty good chance, Lillian."

Both women giggle like their children from earlier. They clink their glasses together, toasting to an unknown future they cannot see.

The clanking of glasses pulls the kids from their hushed conversation, and over to their mothers.

Both Rose and Edward roll their eyes.

"Moms are so silly," they exclaim together.

After another giggling session and friendly pushing from both sides (both being extra careful around the fire pit), they go back to hushed whispers and bonding over silly parents, silly siblings and silly kids from school.

.

"You 'wake, Edward?" Rose asks as she rolls over in her sleeping bag. The sound of the crickets have quieted, making everything else seem louder.

Rose isn't scared; she just wants to hear a familiar noise.

She can make out some mumbling coming from him, but thinks he may not be awake.

She tries again, calling his name a little louder. Above all, she doesn't want to wake their parents. After what seems like hours (which is really a minute later), her tent-mate finally awakes.

"Rose," he mumbles, hiding a yawn behind his hand, like mother taught. While stretching, he turns towards his friend. "You wake?"

"Yeah, can't sleep. I'm listenin' for the lions that can eat us."

"There aren't really lions, Rose." Her friend laughs between slatted fingers covering his mirth.

"Maybe, but I have protect you. You're my Edward, after all, silly."

Rose yawns, now becoming sleepy as she hears the soothing voice of her best friend. He can comfort her better than anyone; even more so than her daddy's huge, safe arms. There is just something about her Edward.

"And you're my Rose. Or as my dad says, my love."

The wheels in Rose's head starts to turn. Being someone's love is an interesting thought. She can't really comprehend the concept, but she knows that Edward is close to her heart: it's sad when he is, happy when he is and beats ever so proudly when he calls her "best friend".

Perhaps that's what being someone's love is.

"Then . . . you're my love, too." Quiet confidence is heard strongly in her tone, but felt so deeply in her bones. Another yawn steals the young girl's breath.

"But," Edward goes to argue, making sure his Rose understands his position, "I get to call you 'love'. You can't call me that, too. We'll get too messed up." Tired giggles take over the pair.

These are the best times, both can't help but think. My Edward . . .

My Rose love.

Before the little blonde succumbs to the land of Nod, she blindly reaches out and finds her friend's hand, half way – already reaching out towards hers.

We'll always be like this. Rose and Edward: fighting kid-eating Zebras and eating burnt boogers.

Both surrender to the sandman. Dreams filled with laughter and adventures abound.

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Ramblings: Okay, this is the first part. It is more of a foundation to be built upon. I had so much fun writing this chapter. The youthful innocence is a beautiful thing. Hope you enjoyed. There will be two more parts to this: one in Edward's POV and the other in Rosalie's. They will be older, of course; this overture is more of their beginnings, their young roots.

Now is your turn. Please review and let me know what you thought. Would you like to see more?

Thanks for stopping by!