Can Rose handle the southerners?

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The Cullen Family (+1) Chronicles

Part 2, Chapter 1

((Appalachia, Virginia - 1935))

We had been here for four months and already I loathed it. Firstly, it was nowhere near to being as civilized as Rochester was, and everybody – and I do mean everybody – spoke with the worst accent I had ever heard! It was a slow, pathetic drawl that just went on and on and on. Esme thought it was "charming". Clearly she had no idea what the real definition of "charming" was.

However the good part was that I was making even more progress with my blood thirst. I was still months – even years possibly (just to be on the safe side) – from being around humans in day-to-day life, but apparently hospitality is something that is very popular in the south. Considering how small the actual town was, I think we've had everyone welcome, introduce, or visit us at some point.

This particular day was extremely sunny – which only worsened my mood considering I wasn't allowed out yet. I had been listening to Edward write another symphony when I heard footsteps on the front stairs and then three knocks on our front door. I rushed to the hallway and opened the door, relishing in the fact that Carlisle had begun to allow me to answer the front door unaccompanied by anyone else in the family, to see the most beautiful young man, around his early twenties I would guess.

"Good morning m'am," came his clear, crisp voice. He was tall, and extremely well built, but his hair was ruffled and mangled and his clothes were ripped and torn in places and his skin was the most beautifully tanned tone I had ever seen. He must have been doing some kind of manual labor not too long ago because he had dirt all over his pants and I could smell his scent through his sweat. He smelled good.

"Good morning, sir, what can I do for you?" I asked back, not even bothering to keep the flirtatious tones out of my voice.

His eyes widened as he took in my entire body, but he seemed to not be as crass as the other boys, and respectfully shut his open mouth and waited to regain control of his motor skills before speaking. I was hurt that he was able to keep his focus so well and I pouted when he was able to return his eyes to my face so quickly.

"I was just stopping by to introduce myself. My name is Roy-" RAPIST I screamed in my head "-Rogers." I'm the new gardener your…mother hired." He must have met Esme already because he seemed doubtful when he said the word mother, and he was right. The gorgeous man leaned in to shake my hand, and unlike any other human I have ever met, his grip tightened when our skin connected. "Are you cold? In this weather?" he asked jokingly, and his laugh felt good as it rang through my ears. The scent of his breath was delicious, and I had to stop myself from leaning in closer. Well, maybe I could get just a little bit closer, perhaps just to taste his skin which I bet tasted extraordinary, and then a small little poke and jab from my fangs, and why not just taste a little bit of the blood that pumped through his veins under that luscious skin? Yes, I think I shall –

"Good afternoon, Roy, was it?" DAMN IT EDWARD! I felt the iron-like grip of his long fingers practically crush my shoulders as he held me in place from behind. "My name is Edward Cullen, and this is my sister, Rosalie." Roy reached for Edward's hand, which put his forearm in the perfect position for a quick little bite – "Jonathan!" Edward called in a soft voice, "come and meet the gardener!" I HATE YOU EDWARD! I HATE YOU!

"Hello mister, I'm Jonathan" came Jonathan's curious little voice, not really interested in yet another visitor but more interested in why Edward was keeping me rooted to the spot; the human didn't notice the slightest creak coming from me being pressed into the floorboards, but he did.

"Are you another child of Esme's?" He asked, taking a step back to look at all of us, and I tried to reach out to pull him back but the ever-ready Edward stopped the motion before it could even become noticeable.

"No, Jonathan is Rose's son." WHAT?

"Yeah…" said Jonathan with a devious smile as he looked from Edward to myself to Edward to myself…and back to Roy. "She's my mommy!" and he gave me a tight hug around the waist.

"Oh, that's, that's…nice," he replied, a little confused, probably wondering how someone so young but so beautiful and graceful with just the right length of faultless blonde hair that accented her heart-shaped face could ever have a son. But Jonathan was small, still very young, and so adorable, making him my son really wouldn't be too difficult or hard to convince people of – STOP Jonathan!

"Why don't I take you out to the back, Esme should be around there plotting out land for the statue garden. Jonathan has something to show you in the conservatory, Rosalie." Edward only smiled back playfully as I gave him the most murderous glare I could muster. I wish I were able to inflict pain through my thoughts Edward, because right now you would be dead from the amount of concentrating I am doing. He was such a good-looking young man Edward! And I doubt anyone would miss him! Just one little bite, please! All Edward did was shake his head no, the smile still there, while Jonathan half led half pulled me down a hallway and out of sight.

"C'mon Rosalie, I really do have something to show you…" he whispered as he continued to tug me towards the conservatory that Esme had transformed into an artist's studio of sorts. Edward had been so jealous at all of the attention Jonathan had received when we moved here, and rethinking about that made me feel a little calmer. Esme was constantly checking on the small boy and making sure he was comfortable; did he have enough clothes, was he enjoying the books on famous painters she had bought him, was he happy being with the Cullen family?

I couldn't describe it, but my senses became even more attuned to his scent, and I heard his workman's boots clack softly against the tile as he walked through the house to the backyard gardens. I didn't even notice that it was now me pulling Jonathan back the way we had come. "Rose!" he whispered, trying to fight back against the unstoppable lust that was giving me the strength to pull a two-old resisting vampire. I had only hunted five days ago, yet my throat felt as if it had been thirsty for years. I started walking faster, and turned around to see where Jonathan had went and why he had released me, only to be knocked to the ground with the annoyed-looking boy sitting on my stomach.

(((JONATHAN)))

I had spent four weeks trying to do my best job painting something beautiful for Rosalie. Esme had bought me lots of books to read and look through, but I didn't know what to do with them, because I couldn't even copy them. But then I saw Esme planting this really pretty red flower one day and right there I knew that was what I would paint for Rosalie. And now, after all that time of making her sad because I couldn't play with her, she was deciding that right now was the time to ignore me. I bet it's because of that gardener man. I don't even know why he's so special. His blood smelled bad. And he smelled like dirt. And sweat. And his ears were too small. I don't know why Rose doesn't have that look on her face when she looks at me. I am "genetically perfect" as Carlisle says. I don't understand the genetically part but I do like hearing that I am perfect. Another reason I'm better than that stupid Roy.

"Carlisle's going to be really mad if you drink the gardener man. And Esme too." Lately Esme had been so nice to me that I felt I should respect her more – something that I noticed made Edward not ignore me as much – and if there was one thing that Esme didn't like, it was messing around with her garden. And I think that includes the people building it. Rosalie didn't say anything back. "Rosalie!" I whispered a little louder. "Mommy!" That caught her attention. "Rose, I'm thirsty and I have something to show you." I tried to whine, and I tried to make her want to come with me in my head, but it wasn't working.

"Oh so now you're thirsty?" she asked me in a voice that told me she was annoyed with me.

"Yes."

"Fine," and she smiled really big. "Let's go hunting," but I'm pretty sure she just said that to get me off of her because right after she jumped up and started running at vampire speed – something Carlisle says is not allowed when there are humans in the house – back down the hallway. Away from my art room. Away from my painting. Away from me, and towards the dirty ugly man that smelled bad.

Yay, confrontation approaching!

Next chapter will be here soon:)