My awesome beta for this chapter: Lisa, the lovely cfmom.

To V&P's new readers: Read on. Read on. From this point, story is at the pace that I intended. Yey for you!

Playlist:

· Jewel – Standing Still

· Christina Aguilera – Impossible

· Colbie Caillat – Realize

Chapter 9: Standstill

The sun was peaking in and out today, with pockets of rain throughout the course of the morning.

I sat in the school cafeteria across from Edward with our "lunch." He had his journal open, scribbling away, as I mindlessly poked at the piece of meatloaf on my tray. I looked up, studying him as his hand moved across the page at an alarming speed.

"You should be careful, you know," I whispered. "The humans might notice you're writing faster than people can type."

He chortled, but didn't look up from his paper.

It was a slow day at school, so I found myself observing Edward more than I normally would. "What do you write about?" I wondered aloud.

"Things," he answered, dismissively.

"What sort of things?" I pressed, but received no response. Naturally, the narcissist that I was, I grew curious if I would be mentioned in his journal. I leaned over the table to get a look. "Anything in there about me?"

He scoffed playfully, pulling the book closer to his chest. "You wish."

"Then why won't you let me see?" I asked reaching out for the book as he batted my hand away.

"Because I jot down my thoughts," Edward said. "Private thoughts."

"You hear my every thought," I pointed out. "All the time. Why can't I read some of yours?"

He gazed at me through narrowed eyes. "You know, lately I've found you to be more tolerable after falling in love, but I guess I spoke too soon. Why do you care about my thoughts?"

I stopped, looking away from him and focusing on the table. Suddenly I was embarrassed, and a bit defensive. "I don't. I guess I'm just bored." It had been several weeks since Emmett had called me an angel—several weeks since I'd realized the depth of my feelings for him, and a mere two weeks since the sensually charged exchange in the garage. My mouth scrunched together in irritation. Of course it wouldn't take a genius to realize I fancied Emmett, but Edward's ability offered more insight into my thoughts and emotions.

I saw his eyes flash up to me for a moment, with a small ounce of regret and apology. He had slipped, obviously. He'd never mentioned it out loud before, my being in love. "Sorry," he mumbled.

I shrugged indifferently, tapping my partially chewed pencil on the lunch table, eying the leather bound journal covetously.

"Go study something," he suggested, turning his attention back to the journal.

I drummed my fingers on the table for a moment, the sound irritating Edward as I caught him eying my fingers as he continued to scribble away. A corner of my lip turned up in amusement.

A light bulb turned on in my head, and I leaned in curiously. "Is there anything in there about Emmett?" Emmett had kept his distance, as usual. The "Good day, Miss Rosalie"'s came once in a while, but nothing had developed further. Edward wasn't surprised by my question, but was annoyed just the same.

He sighed, putting down his pen, and looking up at me. "Now, you know I won't give away anything to you when it comes to him."

"But why?" I demanded. Don't you want to help me?

"Not particularly, no."

My teeth ground together, frustrated. "Horrible!" I exclaimed.

""Pipe down, Rosalie." He checked the surrounding tables. Apparently, my outburst attracted the attention of a table of freshmen nearby. "You're acting like a spoiled child." He reached his hand out, placing it on my wrist. "You know that I don't like to get involved. I've kept thoughts to myself all my life."

"Yes, I know, I know. That only leads me to believe that you've written about Emmett and I, and don't want me to see it. Why can't you just tell me what you know and save us from any further misunderstandings?"

He put his hand back on top of his other. "You're forgetting I've had this ability for the last seventeen years. All my vampire life, I've had to deal with this. Private thoughts of others are not something I share freely. Not without cause, anyway."

I pursed my lips. "I think my heart is cause enough."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. It's not. If you want to know what he feels about you, you'll have to wait until he's ready to tell you."

My face lit up at his words. "Feels about me?"

Edward sighed, his face wary. He'd given way something, obviously.

"He feels something about me?" This was news. After our little exchange in the garage last month, Emmett steered clear of me. Apparently my scent drove him past safety and reason, and with much coaching from Edward and Carlisle, Emmett thought it best to stay away. If I got anything from him, it was just a small hello, and nothing more.

"I don't know," Edward replied, turning back to his journal, trying to sound clueless.

I studied his face as he avoided eye contact. He could lie to a human, but not a vampire, and certainly not to his only sister.

"Well, apparently there's something he needs to tell me 'when he's ready.' Why can't you just say it?"

He ignored me, still scribbling along. I lurched forward and snatched the book from under him. His pen left a long gash in the middle of the page he was writing on.

His brows furrowed, his hand stretching across the table. "Give it back."

I pulled the journal behind my back and sat against it in my chair. "Tell me."

"Give it back."

"Tell. Me. How. He. Feels."

I could see Edward plotting, but he couldn't figure out how to do whatever he wanted to do because we were in public. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Rose, if you don't—"

Whistling to cut off his threat, I folded my arms across my chest as I waited. "Maybe I can just read what he's feeling." I reached for the book behind me, slowly taunting him.

"Fine, I'll tell you," he grumbled, defeated. "But not without my journal." He held his arm out with his palm up, wiggling his fingers.

"Fine," I groaned and handed it to him reluctantly.

He snatched it from my hand and placed it in his coat pocket, patting it securely against his chest.

I had to prompt him as he sat and folded his hands together in front of me. "So..."

"So… what?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

He deliberated for a moment. "There's nothing to tell."

"What do you mean?" I groaned, frustrated.

"I mean, he doesn't know. He's very confused. It's hard for him to concentrate on anything except for hunting."

I frowned. "Well, that isn't news."

"I'm sorry," he said simply. His face was smug. "That's all I have."

My eyes sparkled with fury, and he was amused. I was not. A snarl ripped through my throat, my teeth baring before him.

"Relax!" he exclaimed in a whisper, checking everyone around us. The same group of freshman I startled earlier had abruptly left their seats in hurry. "You're scaring away the underclassmen."

Well, you leave me no choice, I growled back, mentally.

He gritted his teeth. "Fine. If you want to know… he goes back and forth."

I leaned forward, completely drawn to what he was telling me. "Explain."

Edward sighed. "He thinks about you, too."

"He does?" My heart was anew with hope.

"Yes, he does, but—"

A bright smile illuminated my face at the thought. "Emmett thinks about me?"

"Yes, but Rose, it's not like that. He doesn't exactly see you in a romantic light. If he has, its mere glimpses, but his train of thought is inconsistent. It's constantly changing, never following one coherent path. He's having a hard time dealing with the fact that he'd hurt you that first day. That part is the only thing that keeps bothering him. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened, so he keeps his distance. Remorse is still too new for him to know how to deal with it."

That part I already knew, sort of.

Edward rolled his eyes at my thought before continuing. "He doesn't know how to deal with what he's feeling. I feel for the man. How can he do that, when he can't even think straight?"

I stared unseeingly at the tips of Edward's bronze hair. "I see."

"That's all I have," he said, his hands up in surrender. "Everything I know." He eyed me carefully. "Are we better now?"

I ignored the sarcasm in his last question. "Do you know when he'll know?" I pressed.

"Rose," he chided.

I sighed. "I'm sorry! I won't ask again." I averted my eyes to the corner of the cafeteria, trying to calm myself. The frustration with the situation had me at my wit's end.

I felt my brother study me from across the table. "I know this is hard on you. I don't pretend that it isn't. I can't imagine being in love in this life, let alone with a newborn."

"No, you can't," I agreed. I was able to think clearly at the moment. "You know more, don't you?" I asked again, more calmly this time. Internally, I understood that he couldn't tell me. It wasn't his place to, and I had to respect him for that, no matter how reluctant I was.

"If you want my help, I can find another way to be supportive, but not like this. We have to respect his privacy," Edward urged.

My eyes flew down to my trey of stinky human food. I staked the fork through the lump of processed meat, spinning it around in its gravy. Emmett's face appeared in my head. The newborn love of my life.

"Just be patient with him," Edward advised. "If it's going to happen between you two, it's going to happen. Let the chips fall where they may, but allow that to happen when the time is right."

I bit my lip as he patted my hand. He retrieved it when he and I both looked down and realized what he was doing. We both laughed as we rose from our chairs and carried our trays to the trash. We prepared for the next class.

After school, I figured it best that I occupy myself with other activities. We were in the Volvo, nearing the busiest street in Appalachia. "Drop me off here," I told him.

"Downtown?" he asked. "What for?"

I gave him a mental vision of me carrying a load of bags. "I do shop at times," I said, my tone defensive. I didn't care to be home again where I'd be ignored by the lofty vampire that haunted my every thought.

Edward shook his head. "Not a good idea. I think the sun will come out soon."

"I have an umbrella. I seriously doubt the clouds will clear completely from the sky in all this rain."

"Suit yourself," he said wryly, slowing down to a stop along Main Street.

I stepped out, turning to poke my head into the car. "Please tell them I'll be home in a couple of hours."

He nodded once and jetted down the street.

I'd stopped by a few of the nice little shops. I found a lovely Victorian brooch at a vintage shop, perfect for a few dresses in my closet. I was at the counter paying for it when I noticed that the rain had indeed stopped. There were patches of sunlight filtering through the partially cloudy sky, making patterns on the pavement just outside the store.

"Drats," I muttered under my breath.

"Well isn't that a relief?" The old lady sighed behind the counter as she rang me up. "No more rain."

I smiled quickly, got my change, and left. I'm sure my artificial smile was obvious to her as I turned away.

I opened up my umbrella, trying to avoid the patches of sunlight, and hiding under its shade. At least with the possibility of rain, I wouldn't look like a total idiot carrying it over my head.

As I walked down the street, I passed by the local art and dance studio. I could see a young lady and her instructor spinning around. Another male, a young teenager, was outside posting flyers on the windows and doors of the building. I couldn't help but pause for a moment as I watched the grace in the instructor's movement. I picked up the move as I watched, my eyes absorbing every step and kickball change. They were doing the foxtrot. I knew I could practice it later at home with Carlisle. I could tell the lesson was about to end, they way they ended the last move.

My thoughts ran to where they always did recently—back to Emmett. How I would wish to dance with him one day, though part of me wasn't sure if he even knew how. I smiled a bit, remembering how comedic he had recently shown to be, despite his blood lust. He was a ham, a large dose of sun in my overcast existence, and the constant pang in my chest for him wouldn't let me forget that. I could imagine him taking my hand and pulling me in for a spin around a dance floor, and making me laugh for the rest of my life. The pang lay heavy where my heart was, knowing that at this point it was just a dream, and far from reality.

The studio door opened just then, and a familiar young lady stepped out. She was only a few inches shorter than me, with a heart shaped face, light brown hair, and decent blue eyes. I recognized her from one of my classes.

"Excuse me," the young lady said, almost running into me, though I'd heard her coming with my supernatural ears before she stepped out. "I'm so sorry."

"No problem," I replied, stepping out of her way, the instructor stepping out behind her. With that statement, a blast of fire ignited in my throat at the sudden proximity to the humans.

I watched her scurry to her car where her father waited for her in the driver's seat as the instructor checked on the young man who was still posting flyers on the studio's window.

"I'll see you next week," the instructor called after her, his eyes catching a glimpse of me as he waved at her goodbye.

"Bye Mr. Kent!" she said, waving with a smile. Her smile disappeared as her eyes took in that I was standing next to him. She looked… insecure.

I shrugged. I was used to making girls insecure. But suddenly, I realized her insecurities may have been founded, because I felt eyes on me.

"Hello," the instructor said. "May I help you?"

I shook my head quickly, motioning to leave. "Just thought I'd watch a bit. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," his kind voice insisted. "Leaving so soon?" I hadn't cared to look at him at that point, though I was aware that he'd cocked his head to the side.

"Yes, I have to get going." The small consistent flame of thirst, though not as large as when the young woman bumped into me, still smoldered low in my windpipes.

He quickly grabbed a flyer from the ones the young kid was posting on the window, stepping forward to hand it to me.

I took it with the hand that held the vintage shop bag.

"Something to do with your spare time, Miss," the instructor said as I took it from his hand.

I paused to read the flyer.

Kent Ballroom Dance

A free dance lesson with the purchase of a series of 10 classes

Dance lessons. As if I needed a full series. One class would make me a master. Vampires had the skill to analyze a move just from casual observance. We were able to replicate it with our own bodies within the next stanza of music.

"Thanks," I said, dismissively, not bothering to look up.

"It's fun, I promise," he urged. "You should sign up."

"Ah, maybe," I answered, indifferently.

"You seem to know how to move," he mused. "I can tell by the grace of your walk."

I paused once more, this time looking up at him. Normal human boy, I thought. I caught his mint gaze for a moment.

"You would be a great dancer," he mused. "It would be a fabulous time."

"I'm sure I would," I said, giving him a small grin, but started on my way again. I couldn't help but enhance my walk with a bit of a strut. I must admit, I enjoyed the attention.

"Funny little prop you have there," I heard the man call out after me.

I spun around to meet his gaze again. "I'm sorry?"

"That umbrella. The rain has stopped and the sun is out, yet you carry your umbrella over your head," he observed out loud.

"I was just being careful. The rain is so on-and-off today. Don't want my hair to ruin in the rain, or my fair skin to be tainted by the sun."

"Of course not," he teasingly agreed, walking toward me. "Who would want that?"

Who was this guy? I couldn't believe how seemingly charming he was. Or maybe it was the fact that I was so starved for attention by the one man I longed for, that this feeble human's flirtation was uncharacteristically welcomed.

"You're Doctor Cullen's daughter, correct?" he asked, stopping just a few feet from me. In fact it was more like two. A dangerously small distance of two feet.

My mouth pressed into a thin line at his question. This town was too small for its own good. People talk too much, and everyone knew everybody.

"The one and only," I answered, haughtily. Making sure to step in some shade from a building across the street, I let down the umbrella.

I heard his heart kick up in speed as he took in my looks, no longer shielded by the umbrella. I fought the smile that twitched at my lips. The reaction was typical. It didn't happen enough for me.

I could see him trying to collect himself. "The name is Kent," he said, holding out his hand, once composure found him. "Thomas Kent."

I stared at his hand—pliable, destructible. I couldn't take his hand when mine weren't gloved. My icy touch would surely alarm him. Besides, mine were full: the bag from the antique store and flyer in one hand, and my umbrella in the other.

"I'm sorry," I giggled, apologetically. "I'd shake your hand but mine are occupied at the moment."

"If you may, I can take your belongings," he offered, holding both hands out this time. "I'll help you take them to your automobile, if you'd allow me to escort you there."

Automobile. I laughed at myself internally. I was certainly in no need of a car. "I'll manage," I said, quickly.

"A name," he insisted, his eyes sparkling with interest, "and I'll let you go about your business."

Hmm, yes, definitely flirting. If he knew I was Carlisle's daughter, I was sure he at least knew my name already. I chuckled, despite myself. He was just that charming. "Rosalie," I answered.

"Rosalie… Cullen?"

"It's Hale, actually," I corrected him. "I kept my… biological parent's name." It wasn't that I didn't want to be a Cullen. I was, at heart. This had nothing to do with Carlisle, Esme, or Edward. My preference to my name was indicative of my preference to being human rather than vampire, and nothing more.

"I see," he nodded. "Miss Hale, so nice to meet you." His lips stretched from ear to ear, his heart beating a mile a minute. The smile was sincere, and caught me by surprise. "You should come and sign up for lessons. Maybe sign up for a trial? It's free."

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. It was a nice thought, but really didn't need it. What was the point of learning to dance when the partner I was pining for wasn't going to learn along side of me anyway?

Mr. Kent's face still held a sincere smile, with a pleading arch in his brow. Cute, but terribly foolish. "Pretty please?"

The way I saw it, there were two kinds of humans. The first was the smart kind, the ones who avoided us at all cost, giving into their natural instinct of self preservation. The other was the easily influenced kind— the kind that might be called stupid—that was attracted to us no matter the danger. That kind was usually the easier prey, unaware that they were completely hazardous to their own lives. You couldn't really blame them, though. We were designed to lure in our victim, made most attractive to the best tasting nourishment nature could provide.

This man was of the latter kind, standing so close to me as he conversed all too casually. And, as nature would have it, his blood smelled sweet and warm as apple pie to a young human girl.

I vaguely recognized that he was a good looking human: tall, dark hair, green eyes. I was more preoccupied with the pulse on his neck, just beneath the thin membrane of his skin. I saw a faint blue line of an artery, and venom accumulated just beneath my tongue. My throat became ablaze with thirst like it had when the young woman bumped into me, regardless of the fact that I'd hunted less then twelve hours ago.

"Anyway, I think you should at least consider it," this Thomas Kent continued, still on the subject of ballroom instruction. "I have a few students from your high school who enjoy it quite well. Like Maggie."

Maggie. I was sure he was referring to my classmate who had just left his studio. I wasn't sure of her name at the moment. The burn of my thirst was consuming too many of my thoughts. My mind wandered off, imagining pulling him by the arm into a nearby ally, leaning into him as if we were about to neck, sinking my teeth into his soft skin instead…

No!

I needed to excuse myself from this situation. Now. I felt the temperature change slightly, the sun hiding behind a thick layer of clouds again. Perfect, I thought to myself. Now was my chance. "Oh dear, do you have the time?" I asked suddenly, trying to keep the breathing through my mouth, rather than inhaling more of his delectable scent through my nose.

He twitched his arm so his sleeve would fall, turning his wrist to peer at his watch. "About quarter to five. Why?"

I popped my eyes wide in mock fear. "Oh, no! I must get going. Esme is expecting me home soon. I'm so late. Tardiness is not something she is fond of. " I rushed, throwing the flyer into the bag and hurrying down the street.

"Wait," I heard him call after me.

"Nice meeting you!" I yelled after myself, running around the corner so he wouldn't see where I was headed. Once I knew I wasn't within view of any humans, I propelled myself at superhuman speed, pushing myself on the balls of my feet. I couldn't stand a second longer around him without folding in to my weakness. His blood smelled too sweet.

I arrived at the house with my bag, stepping in and heading for my room. Emmett was in the corridor as I climbed the stairs.

"Hi," I said, nodding to him. It was an experiment. Every day was. I never knew what kind of mood he was in. Would he say hello? Would he ignore me? Would he call me "Miss Rosalie" again? I hated it, but at the same time, beggars can't be choosers. At the moment, I was not one to be picky about how I was addressed, so long as he addressed me at all.

He nodded back at me simply, but said nothing else. His eyes only flashed to me for a mere instant before focusing in the direction he was walking.

Well, at least he didn't ignore me. However, I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied with such a greeting.

I didn't miss how broad his chest looked in the shirt he was wearing. He was unbelievably sexy, and it took all of me not to touch myself at the thought of touching him. I remembered his back, the relief map of terrain that I desperately wanted to explore like I was one of the Spanish Conquistadors that I studied in my world history class. His thick shoulders, the band of muscles that encased his arms. The urge to indulge in him was just too much. I craved his body, just as much as his affection. Hell, I wanted his attention, at least.

I was a total mess.

Desires that were unfamiliar until now had awakened within me, and it wasn't proper for a lady such as myself to be having such thoughts. But what can you do if that's all you can think about? I tried to rationalize it to the fact that I was in love. It wasn't about pure lust with Emmett… it would never be. But it certainly was there.

I stepped into my room, shutting my door. I placed the bag and umbrella on my coffee table and plopped on my couch, lying against it in a very human way. All of my mortal habits were coming back to me, much like Carlisle had described about vampires falling in love. It made us more human.

I was definitely that at this moment. I twirled a lock of my golden hair around my finger, completely disappointed at the progress of my relationship with Emmett. I felt like we were at a standstill, and nothing was ever going to move us into the next step towards love.

When will I ever have his attention again?

The family sat at the dining table the next afternoon, playing a game of Monopoly. It was too sunny outside for us to go anywhere. Edward and I had to play hooky from school.

I was interested to see how this game would fair, considering the fact that I hardly spent time in a room with Emmett. I was excited, actually. It was an opportunity to get to know him better—an opportunity for him to get to know me as well.

We all chose our pieces. Carlisle was the top hat, Esme the iron, and Emmett the battleship. Edward and I fought over the car piece. He won, chuckling to himself that I ended up with the thimble.

It tried my best not to be too resentful as I played. In truth, it didn't matter what your piece was. It was how you played the game. Boy, did I play it well.

I had great luck, obtaining several properties, and lots of money. So did Emmett and Esme. Carlisle and Edward were not as fortunate. I was also a little giddy at the chance to show Emmett that I could handle myself at the game. I was in the lead, collecting so many properties, with the most money. I eyed Edward smugly.

He rolled his eyes.

It was my turn again. I drew my card, and I frowned as soon as I read it. "Can I draw another?"

"No, that's not how the game works," Edward chastised. His lip turned up at one corner in a lopsided, annoying grin, seeing the card in my mind.

"But I want another."

"Why? What does the card say?" Esme asked.

"Can I just please have another?" I asked through my teeth, my temper flaring.

"Wait, let me see," Emmett said, reaching far across the table, and taking the card from my hand.

I stared at him blankly. I'd never felt him that close to me before. And he was finally paying attention to me, to my card anyway, and a wave of warmth crashed in my chest.

I watched intently as he lifted the card to his face, though I instantly regretted it as he prepared to read it out loud. "Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200."

Edward was full of hysterics, slapping his hand on the table. Esme scolded him to calm down, but she and Carlisle were trying to stifle their own laughter.

Emmett clucked his tongue on the side of his mouth. "Tough luck, Miss Rosalie." A maddening smirk cracked across his lips as his crimson gaze, the gaze I'd hankered after for weeks now, fixed on me.

I frowned. Naturally, the attention I finally received from him was not the exact attention I had in mind.

"Carlisle," Edward gasped, his eyes widening. "Carlisle, the door."

It was only within microseconds that we heard it. It was a sputter of an engine… an approaching vehicle. Between the layers of sound approaching, I detected a familiar sound—a small pitter patter of a beating heart. A human heart. It was a delivery truck, I assumed.

It all happened too quickly. In a blur of movement, Emmett charged for the door, knocking Esme and I out of the way with a powerful fling of his elbow. The tip of his elbow made a blow to the side of my body, right into my ribcage. I heard a tiny crack of vampire flesh right before I hit the floor. I gasped as the pain of vampire flesh hit my own, too strong in its newborn strength.

Beside me, Esme was on her back, stunned, but unharmed. We all heard a truck being put into park.

In the next second Emmett was down on his back, Edward and Carlisle holding him against the marble surface of the kitchen floor. He was so strong that they had to lean into their arms with most of their weight to pin him down.

I felt a gust of wind. Esme had already sprung lightly to her feet to step out of the door and tend to the delivery man.

Carlisle grabbed a bag to shove in Emmett's mouth, muffling the sound of his snarls as they fought to keep him down.

I lifted my blouse to inspect his blow on my side, iron flesh cracked in rays from the point where I was hit. It was slightly tender, but the cracks were already mending itself. Realizing Emmett might see it and blame himself yet again, I shoved my blouse back down, tucking it into my skirt.

My heart fell as I looked up and realized I was too late. His eyes were just where mine were, and he'd seen me inspect my wound. A wound that I was sure would affect him in a negative way, and put even more distance between us.

His eyes rose to meet mine in the next moment. Regret and frustration marred his features, and his snarling ceased. His scarlet eyes were full of apologies before they squeezed shut, his head turning to face the ceiling as his fists pounded down on the floor in aggravation. His expression was full of chagrin, and he was mumbling to himself unintelligibly.

"He's gone," Esme said, coming through the door with a package in her hand. "I'm terribly sorry, everyone. I didn't realize that this was being delivered today." She turned to me, reaching her hand. "Rosalie, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I said springing lightly to me feet. I took Esme's hand for only a moment. I didn't want to put a spotlight on my injury that was already becoming nonexistent.

Still under Carlisle and Edward's restraint, Emmett wrestled his way out of their hold. He stepped out of the window and hopped onto the wall of the house.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

I heard footsteps on the roof.

"I'll handle this," Carlisle said, following Emmett and scaling the exterior wall.

Curious, I asked Esme to walk the grounds with me in an attempt to watch them from where we strolled. We sauntered about the property as I watched him on the roof with Carlisle. He sat as Carlisle stood next to him. They were staring at the same point of the horizon, and I could hear their voices like soft murmurs. I fought hard to give them their privacy, but I desperately wanted to hear the conversation.

Esme and I tried to make small talk, but it was awkward. She could sense the worry, the tension I had concerning Emmett, but she also sensed that I didn't want to discuss it. She steered me to her rose garden instead, sharing her plan of adding a row of English roses on the eastern side. I nodded mechanically to her plan, and smiled when I needed to. I was too consumed with what was happening on our roof to concentrate on anything else. For a moment, I turned away to fix my attention on Esme's small lesson on the difference between the species of roses. When I returned my focus to the house, I noticed the roof was now vacant.

Carlisle and Edward were in the garage as I stepped into the house. Emmett sat in the living room, staring at the coffee table.

I approached him slowly. I wanted to make sure he was all right, and also to assure him that I was fine.

His head popped up at my approach, and he stared me for a while before he finally spoke. "Miss Rosalie, I never meant to—"

"Don't apologize, really." I said, waving a hand in front of me. "I'm all healed. It wasn't your fault. You didn't mean to do it."

He grunted in protest. "You don't know that."

"Yes," I insisted. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. You don't understand at all. I would give anything to taste that man's blood. Anything. Even if it meant hurting you and Esme if you were in my way, I was determined to get him."

"Emmett, it's okay," I said. "I'm healed."

He looked at me, frustrated.

"I was a newborn not too long ago. I know the burn. I know the desire for it. I do." I took a courageous step forward.

Still seated, he scooted in the other direction. "Just stay away from me, will you?" Emmett mumbled, his head falling in his hands.

I stood for an immeasurable moment, dumbfounded at what he just asked of me. My ears were playing tricks on me. They had to be. He didn't just ask me that.

"Go away," he growled, feeling my lingering presence.

Horrified at his request, I ran to my room, slamming the door behind me. I thanked the stars that vampires didn't have tears because I knew mine would threaten to spill in front of him, and I refused to let him see me cry.

I tried to contain my sobs, because I knew the family would hear. I tried to control my thoughts, my trembling fingers finding the bag from the antique shop, stowing away the box that contained the brooch I bought just the day before. I came across the flyer that the nice Mr. Kent had given me, tucking it under a notebook in my bookshelf unthinkingly. I felt my lip trembling, another sob escaping me.

I could hear someone pacing, right outside of my room. I hoped it was Emmett, coming to take back what he said. But the scent wasn't wood and spice. It was still sweet, though, and moments later I recognized it.

Edward.

He was deliberating at my door, wondering if he should knock, I suppose.

"What do you want?" I asked in a whisper.

The feet stopped pacing.

Curiosity claimed me for a moment. I opened the door, peering through the crack to look at him.

His tawny gaze was sympathetic, and he stood in my doorway in silence.

I frowned at him. "If you're here to make things worse—"

But suddenly Edward stepped forward, working his way through my door. He stared at me for just an instant before he wrapped his arms around me.

Shocked at such a gesture, I realized this might be his way of helping me—the help I'd been asking him for at lunch yesterday. I stood rigid for a moment before I relaxed in his arms, leaning against his shoulder as my sobs consumed me. No, he wasn't about to give away Emmett's deepest thoughts and wishes, but deep inside I knew he'd never give mine away either.

I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder, as if to affirm my thoughts. I was correct. He held me silently, until my crying ceased, and didn't leave me that afternoon until I dismissed him.

Sometimes, I was thankful for my brother.

As devastating as that was, I had to get up and plant my feet firmly on the ground every day. And every day after.

It didn't matter if my head was in the clouds, or the gutter.

I avoided Emmett for close to a week, still horrified that he'd ordered me away. However, my heart hadn't been the same since the first moment I'd known him. I was softened, and around him, it was natural for me to be forgiving, gentle even. He brought out the best in me—the best in spoiled little me. I looked in myself for the patience to stand by his decisions, though each passing day it grew more challenging. My expectations grew with time, but nothing else seemed to change.

Part of me wanted to kill him with kindness. He couldn't be angry with me if I treated him with respect and tolerance. I watched as he kept a steady bubble of physical space between us—never closer than four feet. I respected that, and kept the same distance. That didn't stop me from stealing glances at him, hoping to catch him looking at me. To my detriment, he never did.

My plan of killing him with kindness worked eventually. He slowly came around to greeting me again, and I wondered if he was touched that I'd given him the space he needed. I hoped that I showed that I trusted his judgment.

He never stuck around me long enough to have a conversation, however. If he did, it was with the rest of the family, with him in the opposite corner of the room.

Within a few weeks, about two months into his stay with us, they permitted me to hunt with him, as long as Carlisle or Edward was present. That didn't help in the conversation department, though you would think it would.

I t was first hunt I was officially allowed to attend, as the one time where Emmett spoke of his family was a one-time thing that wasn't official. Carlisle was our supervisor for this trip.

"Miss Rosalie's coming along?" he asked, surprise in his deep tone.

"Yes," Carlisle replied. He studied Emmett's expression, as did I. "Is that a problem?"

Emmett didn't seem to mind, just mildly shocked. "No, that's fine by me," he said, shrugging indifferently.

I frowned. Couldn't he at least pretend to be excited?

"Ready?" Carlisle asked us both.

"Sure," we both said nodding to him.

I paused as I turned to Emmett, and he nodded to me with a small smile. It was the first smile I'd seen in weeks. I lost the ability to use my legs for a moment before I realized he and Carlisle were already out the window.

"Are you comin', Miss Rosalie?" I heard Emmett call.

My mood brightened as I heard him speak more than two words in my direction. He was in good spirits! I ran gleefully after them.

We leaped trees as we scanned the plains of nearby Kentucky. There was conversation flowing, but unfortunately nothing I could contribute to. Carlisle and he were "chewing the fat"—as Emmett would call it—about a football game that they had listened to on the radio the other day.

I must admit the conversation went in one ear and out the other with me, as sports were never my forte. All I knew was that my human father was a fan of the New York Giants, as was Carlisle. I knew to keep my mouth shut when I couldn't add value to the conversation. That and, I was never too sure how he'd react if I tried to speak to him. I had to protect my feelings.

Emmett favored the Pittsburg Pirates, but was a Giants fan, too. I was in slight awe of that fact. My father would have loved him. That made me smile.

They spoke praises about a guy named Danowski, and then joked about certain players from opposing team that was named after a big bird—the Eagles, maybe? His laugh made his eyes wrinkle in the cutest way, his plump lips stretching from ear to ear. His dimples dented each cheek perfectly. I fought a dreamy sigh at the sight. He was still laughing at some joke about that lousy player from the "big bird" team when we caught the scent of a family of bears.

We were just a couple of trees over, and as a general rule, Carlisle had set that the youngest vampire was to always feed first as they would be the most out of control in thirst.

I decided to observe Emmett. Even with myself as a vampire, and things such as hunting would normally be an every day thing, I found him fascinating. I watched as he coiled to spring, and the laughter and friendliness of the man I loved was wiped from his face. He was a hunter at that moment. His face scowled, lips curled behind his teeth, with the tendons in his jaw hardening—ferocious, petrifying even.

He landed gracefully, which was a funny sight, given his brawn. He merely tapped the shoulder of the largest bear to get its attention before he sank his teeth into his neck. It was like he was just leaning in to whisper in the animal's ear; it was so easy. The bear snarled in pain before gurgling, his throat obviously flooding with blood that would soon drain out of him. Emmett wiggled his head, shaking the bear, sinking his teeth further into the bear's flesh, a snarl bubbling in his throat. You could hear the wet crack of the spine in its neck as Emmett's mouth crushed it further.

It was a vast improvement from his very first hunt. He spilled no blood. He was graceful, efficient, and almost in control. It wasn't a surprise to me now that Carlisle finally allowed me to come along.

We both followed, descending from the tree and grabbing the cubs.

I took the nearest cub to Emmett as it tried to claw at me. I inhaled, drawing in the sweet scent of carnivore blood, turning away from Emmett. I clutched the cub by its paw and simply lifted it up to my face, my teeth gripping it by its side and draining him from there.

I hadn't realized I was taking back steps in all my feeding, until I tripped over something, and suddenly a large snarl came from behind me.

I spun around, confused, but on instinct, crouched defensively.

Emmett stood, livid. The half-drained mass of fur still lying on the ground beside his feet. He glowered at me, lips stained with blood, his crimson coated teeth displaying behind his curled, trembling lips.

It took a moment to realize I'd stepped on Emmett's heel. "S-sorry," I stuttered, recoiling from his massive form. Fear gripped me as my mind recollected his large hand around my neck that first day.

Carlisle was there immediately. "Emmett, calm down," he ordered, his hand raised, palm forward. "She didn't mean it." He moved with caution towards Emmett. "Rose, get back," he instructed in a calm manner, over his shoulder, not taking his eyes from Emmett.

Emmett snarled but said nothing, his hands in fists, trembling with rage. A newborn's temper was unbelievably short.

Carlisle stared at Emmett intently, as he continued glaring at me. "You need to calm down, young man."

Emmett snarled once more, shaking, his glower turning to Carlisle. He was breathing heavily, ready to fight for whatever reason his unstable mind had conjured up.

I retreated from them in one step, ever so gradually, not taking my eyes off of either man.

"Son, please," Carlisle spoke, his voice authoritative. "Control yourself. Rosalie didn't mean it."

Emmett's ruby eyes flickered to me, and back to Carlisle, and then they shut. The trembling slowly dissipated from his body, stilling in his limbs. His lips fell back over his teeth, and the snarling softened.

"Emmett?" Carlisle asked, his voice concerned.

Emmett's eyes were still shut. His mouth turned down into a frown. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

"It's all right, Emmett," Carlisle assured him, walking cautiously to his son, and patted him on the back. "Good job."

His eyes flew open and he turned to Carlisle, looking at him incredulously.

"You stopped yourself," my father offered, encouragingly, trying to placate the now remorseful newborn.

Carlisle was right though. Emmett had gained control. It was progress. Maybe not progress towards us, but progress, all the same. As soon as the control was in place, I was sure we could find a way to put love before us, so I had to look at this positively.

Carlisle turned to me, meeting my gaze. "Rosalie, please don't take your eyes off of Emmett until he's completed feeding. Hunting is a risk. Know that for next time."

I nodded. I liked the idea of next time.

"Now let's finish our meal and head on home."

Emmett let out an exasperated sigh before he picked up the bear again.

I made no sound as I finished off the cub. None of us did. The mood was dead, good job or not.

I caught Emmett look at me from the corner of his eye as he finished his meal, averting his eyes whenever I looked over at him.

Maybe he believed Carlisle, I thought. Or maybe I just hoped. He did a good job, and controlled himself before anyone was hurt. Maybe now he could trust himself to be close to me.

But as it was, I was dead wrong.

During our retreat home, he didn't look at me anymore, not even when I glanced at him when he wasn't expecting my gaze. His eyes stayed forward, fixed on our path.

When we returned home that evening, he locked himself in his room. Clearly, he didn't agree with Carlisle's reassurance of progress. He kept himself locked in there until the next day when he went hunting with Edward.

When he returned, I pretended that I was on my way downstairs on sheer coincidence, to catch him as he was coming in. I was hopeful that maybe some time with his brother would give him a new perspective on things. It was to no avail. He ended up bypassing me in the hall, with not so much as a glance in my direction.

He headed straight for his room again, and after hearing his door shut, I paused. My hand rested on the wall of the corridor, and I took a deep breath as I stared at my feet. We had reverted back, and I'd have to work to get him to greet me again.

Defeated, I flew downstairs, sat at the piano, and absentmindedly played some Chopin.

My jaw clenched, molars grinding together.

I could feel my patience wavering.

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