Emmett P.O.V

"Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

― Brandon Sanderson, The Hero of Ages

I looked out at the water spread in front of me. I'd spent most of the day sitting out on the small patio like area, at the mini table talking to Alice and attempting to read. There wasn't much else to do in the fucking middle of nowhere. The little house was quiet, extremely. Rosalie could feel how pissed off I was and I could tell that she felt it. We avoided each other although I wasn't mad at her. I was more mad at myself. I wasn't a carless person. My life depended on it. So the fact that I had just forgotten that Rosalie was even around or that I hadn't looked at the possibility that she would come out of her room really just bugged the living shit out of me. Rosalie spent most of the day in her bedroom. She came out for food and occasionally to use the bathroom, but we didn't speak to each other. She had attempted to feed me some noodles that she had heated up, but I wasn't hungry or so I'd told her and she'd simply went to her room and then not returned. I liked it better that way. She was touchy and liked to pry, two things that I just couldn't fucking stand. I plugged headphones in to my phone and then let Linkin Park crash in to my ears. There were only 3 days left. I was doing my job.

Her hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked back and up at Rosalie. I had felt her walk out of her room. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up. You can always tell when someone was staring at you. I pulled one of my earbuds out and Rosalie walked around me and sat down in the chair beside me.

"Hey," she said and smiled at me, a full smile, teeth and all.

Moonlight was practically glistening off of her. Her deep brown hair was loose tonight, flowing around her every time the wind blew. Her brown eyes seemed deeper though, like something was bugging her. She had on some light gray athletic shorts, a plain black t-shirt and pink socks that went to the knee of her ballerina long legs.

"Hey," I repeated lamely.

"Are you going to avoid me the rest of the week?" she half ass attempted to raise her eyebrow and I shook my head at the epic fail.

"Excuse me?" I chuckled, "You've been the one walking on eggshells around me," I pointed out absently.

I slept in the living room and the kitchen didn't even have a literal door. Where/how was I avoiding her?

"I never know what makes you upset," Rosalie sighed and then shook a pack of cigarettes in front of me, "Can I smoke?"

"Sure," I shrugged and she put her little pink cigarette in her mouth and quickly lit it.

"My dad must look at you like a son, huh?" she asked and I shrugged turning back towards the water, "He never told me about you," she said blankly and I saw smoke drift out of her nose, "You must have a fucked up past. Everyone around us does."

"You think?" I asked and held out my hand towards her, never turning my head, "Can I bum a smoke?"

"Sure," she fumbled around a little and then put a cigarette and her lighter in my hand.

"When I was younger all of my friends were jealous of me," Rosalie half laughed, "I was a pretty cute kid my middle school years. I was in ballet and I played soccer and I was on the debate team," she paused and I knew she was taking a draft, "I played the piano and the flute."

I lit my cigarette of my own and sat the lighter on the table between us. I wondered if she was going somewhere with this or if she really just wanted to reminisce, but I didn't bother asking her.

"My dad made sure I had everything I always wanted. I was always on the beach for Spring break and somewhere foreign for summer but every Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter, it was just the two of us- my dad and me," she clarified, "You're so lucky to have Alice," Rosalie sounded a million miles away now.

I took a puff of my cigarette and bent over, resting my elbows on my knees. The water was rippling now.

"My parents were always busy doing this or doing that. They weren't around much- my mother especially. My dad showed up sometimes. He showed up for recitals and daughter/father activities. He never missed holidays. He tried to be around- but he always had something going on. It was pretty lonely- being in that house with just a nanny," she took a puff of her cigarette, "My mom always promised she would give me siblings. She promised me and my father," Rosalie chuckled, "but she just couldn't do it. She had all of these plans for her future son- the heir of the Hale money. He would be everything that I wasn't. I was an inside person. I didn't want to go out and fish and hunt and God forbid- shoot people. I wasn't interested in being whatever it was that my parents did. Growing up in that house was hell," she admitted.

I could see Rosalie pull one of her feet beneath her bottom and then she took another draft and I followed suit, letting the smoke drift out of my nose.

"They rarely came around at the same time, but when they did- it was horrible. My dad liked to roam," Rosalie chuckled, "and my mom couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand it or him or me and I couldn't stand her either. The few times I did see my mother she was drunk off of her ass. Our house was a nightmare when she came home. It was always filled with shouting between her and my dad, shouting would lead to bangs and crashed and thumping. She was crazy- my mother," Rosalie took a longer puff and then put her cigarette out on the table and leaned her head back, looking up at the moon, "I was never good enough for her. I would make a B and she wanted an A. I would make an A, but it wasn't a 100. I would nail a duet, well it should have been a solo. She nitpicked at me all the time. She was a constant pain in my ass and every time something wasn't done to her unrealistic expectations she would bring someone home and all through the night I'd hear yelling- not the yelling she and my father did towards each other, but yelling in pain- howling even. And the next morning, red water," Rosalie took a deep breath and I took a puff.

Even the princess had a fucked up childhood. I guess you couldn't judge from the outside.

"Well, one day me being the fuck up that I am, I broke something- I don't remember what it was or how it happened but it turned in to the end of the world and my mom – she slapped me- really hard and I don't know where my dad came from, but I was ushered out of the room and my mom and dad, they stayed in there for a while, and then my dad came out and she didn't… She had some broken ribs," Rosalie clarified, "And when she was released from the hospital my dad got her a new nose and he sent me off to boarding school- some all girls school that was supposed to be the best, but he called every night no matter what… So, my freshman year I went home for something- maybe summer and my mom- she vanished. She went missing for a while and I don't know what happened with that. My dad didn't tell me these things, but while she was away my dad and I- we had fun. We slid down the hall in our socks and he let me have ice cream for breakfast and he got me a new car and- I was his princess. He was proud of me, even when I did nothing. He was just proud of me for surviving," Rosalie let her neck rest and looked out towards the water.

I took a deeper puff.

"Well, when my mom came back I was a little annoyed and the feeling was mutual. She was nitpicking at me again- as always and I yelled at her. I told her exactly what I thought about her and how she was a crazy psycho bitch and three weeks later she was diagnosed to die. She changed after that. She sent for me at boarding school and I came back, and she tried- she really did- but she wasn't my dad and I wasn't going to let her use me to get in good with her God. There were times when she was on a breathing machine and I thought she'd go any minute and I thought about unplugging her."

I turned and looked at Rosalie for the first time since she'd started her interlude. She just kept looking out at the water.

"I hated her," Rosalie admitted, "And a part of me was happy she got sick. It meant she couldn't have another child. It crushed my dad. He wanted to leave her then- have a son with someone else, but his loyalty wouldn't let him. My dad would have been a great father if he had more children. He was a great father to me- he tried to be. He put me before anything else, but I was still happy. My mom didn't deserve more children," Rosalie stopped and pushed her hair back out of her face, "I would do anything for my dad though and that included acting like the perfect, happy daughter in that hell house… We all have scars, Emmett," her voice was solid, forceful, but I could see the tears glistening down her cheek, "Sometimes they aren't on the outside, but that doesn't make them any less real."

"It doesn't," I agreed and took a puff of my cigarette and the dropped it to the ground and stepped on it.

"She shot my dog," Rosalie scoffed and shook her head, "and I found a finger in my dad's office and now I'm a fucked up freak that doesn't even have a goldfish to go home to and the only person that I can tell any of this to can't fucking stand for me to touch him," she turned and looked at me and smiled a half smile.

It was a smile that didn't touch her eyes.

"I don't hate you," I clarified, "I just don't like being touched. That's who I am."

There was nothing else for me to give her. There was nothing that I could explain. I honestly just did not like it.

"Okay," she nodded and turned back to the water.

Rosalie was a dark cloud today. And Esme was not the force that I thought she was. Well, she was but she was crazy as fuck too. Who thought to shoot their daughter's dog?

"We're both broken," I leaned back in the chair and draped my right arm behind the back.

"Yup," Rosalie chuckled.

"And there's nothing that you can do to fix me," I reminded, "And there's nothing that I know how to do that will benefit you. All I've ever been good at is getting beat up, and then killing and then fucking," I was being honest- brutally honest, "And the only one of those things that would even have a possibility of helping I've already given you,"

I could feel Rosalie looking at me, but I left my eyes fixed on the water. I was careless around Rosalie- but I liked being around her. She made me feel like I could tell her anything. I didn't feel that way often. There was always a wall up, a wall that only Alice and Jasper had ever penetrated.

"But if you ever want me to kill someone or get beaten up for you- I will," I sighed and Rosalie followed suit.

Then, we sat there, just the two of us- in silence. She had thrown it all out there- her entire childhood, because she thought she was as fucked up as me. Our worlds may have been different, but she was right- scars were scars.

"I just want to be able to kiss you," Rosalie said suddenly and then sprang up.

There was nothing for me to say about that. I didn't kiss. I undraped my arm off of the back of the chair and just sat forward, my hands in my lap. Rosalie grabbed her lighter and pack of cigarettes off of the small table and then walked around me. She had been vulnerable in front of me- someone she assumed was paid to be her friend- someone who took advantage of her their first meeting. No matter how much I cursed or tried to send Rosalie off, she always wanted to radiate her light at me. She was sliding the door open when I grabbed her arm.

"Bats, shards of glass, tree branches, cigarettes and belt buckles," my hand was gripping her around one of her wrists, "That's what the scars are from,"

I let her arm go and she slid the door open and paused, looking back at me.

"And your father would kill me if this ever became more than sex," I reminded, turning back towards the water that was crashing against the sand in waves now.

"I could murder my mother and my dad would still welcome me home with open arms," Rosalie said and stepped inside, turning back towards me, "You're afraid- not me and not because of him," she slid the door closed and I let out a gust of air.

Fuck me.