(You Know I Still Adore You, But in a Different Kind of Way)

Emmett

Have I started my inward rambling by saying, "things were going well" before? But then it goes bad? Well, they, things, were going well. It's 1942, and things are going well.

For sure, this time.

My eyes are pretty now!

That was a momentous occasion, that day. I'm just coming in from a hunt, and Esme stopped me and said, "Oh, your eyes are so…normal, Emmett!"

What do I say to that?

"Thank you, Esme."

No one noticed before her. She's sharp as a tack, I tell you.

Sharp…

"Emmett, I'll be in my room if you want to know." Rosalie said, and promptly kissed my cheek.

I listened to her feet make little clicking noises as she left me.

…I love Esme. She is the mother I always wanted. I hardly remember my real mom, but I imagine she wasn't exactly like her.

I know this sounds cheesy, but she's always there for me. Speaking of…I notice that Esme is the only one in the living room with me. She motioned for me to come over.

"Hi Emmett," she said.

"Hi, Esme," I said.

"Emmett, how are things going?"

"Uh, I'm just surviving, I guess." I babbled.

"That's wonderful. How's Rosalie?"

That wasn't the 'how's Rosalie' that you say to Rosalie, it was the 'how's Rosalie' that you say to the guy closest to her. "Neurotic and beautiful, as usual. Why?"

Esme shrugged innocently. "Oh, things between you two seem different lately."

"Yeah…I see her differently, lately." I fiddled for the words, and I didn't want a word I deemed inappropriate at the time. I wanted Esme to know exactly how I felt. "I…love her. More than usual. I really…really love her. Not as much in the way when I first met her."

"What do you mean?"

"I still think she's a goddess, my angel, but…I think, if it were ever possible, I mean, I think of her as the woman I'd marry. The woman I would, if I could, have my kids with."

Esme sighed happily, in that motherly way. "Oh, Emmett."

"Do I sound like an idiot?" I lowered my head and looked at her expectantly.

"You sound like a man in love, Emmett."

"Is that bad?"

She smiled wisely. "Not for you."

"Oh, okay."

"Listen. You've known each other for a while. You do what you think is good. Love you, Emmett."

"Gee, that was a lot of insight. I know exactly what to do now." I muttered.

Esme laughed. "Yes, you will," with that she hugged me, and left me alone.

Sharp like a tack, I tell ya.

I don't know. I guess I could think it all over. Sounds like something to ruin my "things were going good," right? I need to unwind…what does any normal guy do to unwind?

...

I hid in the basement for a while and raided it for all of the paint I could find.

I have approximately; five cans of standard grade house paint, Rosalie's pastel collection, some black watercolor and a bunch of metallic paints. Minus the paintbrush.

Oh, the thrills I will have!

That and I stole Edward's beret.

I have a five by seven easel.

Let's go. I tore the metal cover of the 'Apple Red' house paint off.

I'm not sure who would paint their house this obnoxious of a red, but it worked, right? I pulled the open can backwards, then swung it at the blank easel. A splash of bright, shiny, red flew like a demon, and I think that only about half of the paint hit the easel. It felt oddly freeing, throwing paint.

I felt even better as I said to myself, "That's for the love."

No one else needed to get it.

To hide the fact from the resident mind reader, I started a little monologue in my head.

We the people, of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Article One, Section One: All legislative powers…

I took the robin's egg blue from Rosalie's pastels, and lobbed it at the easel. It was bright light blue in the middle of the easel, and bright purple where the colors mixed. "That's for…her godliness."

…Section Five: Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members, and a Majority of each shall constitute a Quorum to do Business; but a smaller Number may adjourn from day to day, and may be authorized to compel the Attendance of absent Members, in such Manner, and under such Penalties as each House may provide.

Each House may determine the Rules of its Proceedings, punish its Members for disorderly Behavior, and, with the Concurrence of two thirds, expel a Member…

Next, I took more house paint; the 'Hunter Green' shade.

I repeated the process, and almost exclaimed, "This one's for where we met!"

I took the metallic silver and splattered it. "This for the night."

Next I took the standard grade eggshell white, and instead of throwing it, I dipped my whole hand inside the creamy stuff and dragged my hand down the whole easel, mixing half of the colors together.

"That's for everything."

I was so into my artistic fervor that I did not notice Edward come down the stairs. Before he was all the way down, he asked, "Eh, Emmett? Have you seen my beret? And why the hell did you memorize the Consti-"

I freaked, holding the Flaxen Yellow. It flew out of my hands at Edward.

Edward dodged the can easily, but still got the ricochet of pale yellow paint dots to his left side.

It was quiet for a second. Edward nodded. "What a waste of paint," he said, and left.

Despite Edward killing my zeal a little, I still felt it. "I feel better," I murmured to myself.

Rosalie

I think that I'm a little whimsical when it came to daydreaming. Maybe I'm a serious, goal-oriented person when I'm in the real world, but with myself, I'm not.

Dreams. What a concept. I mean usually, your dreams are things that will never happen. Bad Rosalie mulled.

Au contraire, my sardonic sister. In reality of dreams, at least the ones with the Emmett in them, they are things that are quite plausible.

When would we try that out? Bad Rosalie cried, obviously seeing something I wasn't.

Oh, when we're married… Good Rosalie purred suggestively.

There is something wrong with me if that is all I think about subconsciously.

Please. There IS something wrong with you. Let's look back in retrospect, here. You, a beautiful girl, punished, damned to an eternal bloodlust for the beauty you lived for to begin with. Then, you are forced with a man you never wanted to even like. You still manage to hold your fragile psyche together and save a dimpled kid from a grizzly bear in which you fall in love with.

That is a bit twisted. Thank you Bad Rosalie. It's a little depressing, but it gave me a reality check.

I live for the reality check, honey.

I felt that they left. The little voices inside my head were always a little more there as time passed.

I felt my conscious self drift into a dream…

I feel weak. I looked at myself, and saw veins in my wrist and on my hand. I felt for a pulse, and found a harmonious lub-dub of my heart's valves closing and opening. I almost cried. I'm outside on someone's front lawn.

There is an apple red house behind me, looking normal. Suddenly the door opened. A man in a fedora stepped out, and cried behind him, "No, you can not have a welding torch, Maxine! See you later, shnookums!"

The man turned back again and tipped his hat. "Hello, lovely." I reached for the hat and it revealed normal forties-era hair, slicked back and parted, but trying hard to curl. The person under the hat made me feel a great rush of happiness through my veins, fighting for space with the blood that occupied so much of them already. Fearless, amiable, greener-than-green, larger-than-life eyes stared back at me. A big grin grew on his face, creating cute canyons on his cheeks. "Have a wonderful day, lovely," he said. He, my human Emmett, I soon realized, was so different in this world.

"Have a wonderful day, lovely," I murmured.

My mind screamed, 'say something else! Want to hear his voice again…'

"I love you, Rosalie." Emmett reminded emphatically. His voice was beautiful…scratchy and smooth, imperfect. But better.

"I love you too." I nodded. He pecked my cheek, and left me on the walkway to my probable house. I didn't go in. Something told me not to…

God, that was weird.

Life is weird. So are you. Good Rosalie pointed out.

Why, thank you!

I shook it off and remembered what I was doing. In my hands was one of Carlisle's blank fabric bound books. I stole it from his study. He's not in there. Specifically, I think he's getting cozy with Esme in the bedroom. I forget they can do that. I forget that people like them could do stuff like that. The thought was another uncomfortable reality check.

There is a picture of a housecat I drew, playing with a mess of yarn. I forgot I could draw so well. Of course I can, I'm perfect.

The tabby cat's tail wasn't all the way shaded. I cast it aside, the urge to sketch felines diminishing. I flipped to another page in the book, another blank page. I just dropped the pencil to the paper and started drawing. It began to reveal itself to me: a sunny field with wildflowers and prairie dogs. I had only seen a prairie dog once before in my life.

I remember hitting it, inaccurately, and Emmett caught it for me. It was scared as hell in Emmett's hands, and it squealed at me.

The memory is deeply embedded in my mind, notwithstanding the obscurity.

The prairie dog is on its hind legs, sticking out of the windy grass. It was cute. I closed the book sighing.

I figure the only thing a bored pretty vampire can do right now is hunt. I leave my room and head downstairs. Edward trudged up the basement staircase looking a bit flustered. His whole left side is covered in yellow pastel paint. …My pastel paint.

"What the hell, Edward?"

He held his hands in defense. "Hey, hey. Don't blame me, blame Picasso down there."

"I don't want to know. Feel like hunting?"

"I'm game, let's go." Edward shrugged.

"Don't you want to change?"

"It's quick-drying. Like I haven't gotten worse things on my shirt?"

I didn't push the matter any further, and Edward and I departed the house.

The pleasing daydream from earlier is throwing thoughts back into my head. I tried to cover it up.

If Peter has seventeen pears for sale, and Walsh buys five, how many does Peter have remaining?

Twelve pears.

Congratulations, Rosalie, you're absolutely correct.

If one could buy 16 ounces of lemons at the Main Street Market for $2.90, but you could buy 48 ounces of lemons at the Clerk Market for $4.72, which is the better deal?

See, if I could set up a proportion, example, 16: 2.9 to 48:4.72, I can divide each denominator by its numerator and the unit rate for each will tell me the better deal. The answer is for the 48 ounces is zero-point-zero-nine-eight-and-three-repeating, but that rounds up to…

Edward smirked as we walked away from the house. "Zero point one? The three-pound deal is worth more. I didn't know you liked lemons," he gestured vaguely at the world.

"I don't," I replied.

"Hmm, really then?"

I realized that I just ratted myself out.

"Yeah."

"What's really on your mind?"

"Red houses and welding torches."

I think my barriers fell or something, because Edward smiles at this. "The way it sounds in your head is a ton less cruel. Your inclination to violence is complying with your words, but not your thoughts."

"It's a weird daydream, Edward. You don't care."

Edward is appalled by my absurdity. "What? Of course I care! Everything is blackmail, dear."

"Blackmail is a sin."

"It should be," he said, "but it's too useful."

"Shut up, Edward."

Edward didn't say anything, and that was that.

…

We returned, and Emmett is giggling excitedly. "Sweet Summer, Carlisle! What is it?"

Carlisle patted a big box in the middle of the living room. "It, young boy, is a surprise!"

"Yeah, it's a surprise, but what kind of surprise is it?" Emmett bounced up and down like a five year old. Carlisle seized the big box and scooted it across the floor away from Emmett.

"Now, Emmett! If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it son?" Carlisle said good-naturedly. They're both enjoying the trivial game of cat and mouse they're playing.

"Come on! I wanna know, I wanna know, I want to know!"

Emmett lunged for the opening of the box. Carlisle lifted the box and deftly turned it away.

"No! We have to wait until-" Carlisle stopped and moved the box again, "-Mistress Rosalie-" Emmett lunged again and missed, "- and Master Edward return from their hunt!"

I think Carlisle knew we were just standing there, emitting scents and microscopic floorboard creaks. Emmett seemed a little caught up.

"Can I at least shake it?"

Carlisle held the box above his head in horror. "Goodness, no! You'll break it!"

"Well let me see it, then!" Emmett replied impatiently.

"Emmett –" Carlisle began but turned around convincingly surprised. "Why hello! Glad you've finally shown up! We can open it now, Emmett!"

"Oh God, yes! Finally!"

"Esme, come see this!"

Esme ran into the living room. "Ah, yes! The box!"

So, we're all crowded around this box, wondering what's inside it. Well, I'm not sure if Edward knew or not, but he was doing well at looking like he didn't.

Carlisle tore the box open with a flourish and lifted the large…thing…out effortlessly.

"What exactly is it?"

"This, lovely people, is a television. It shows, shows, on it. It only has about four channels, but I'm sure you guys'll love it!" Carlisle explained.

It sat lifeless on the floor. Carlisle plugged it into an outlet.

"Let you people get to that. Enjoy!"

I am intrigued. I had only heard about these things before. It was really nice looking. I begin to inspect its technical aspects, but then I feel a hand push me with ease away from the television.

"Oh…it's great! What do you think we can watch?" Emmett petted the television like a child or a pet.

Edward was all in this action too. "I assume we can watch the news. As for those three numerous channels still lurking in mystery, I haven't a clue as to what we can watch. We should check."

"Right, right!" Emmett nodded.

"I hear it has a channel where there are these mice, and they dance a lot. Maybe we can find it?" Esme added.

"That would be great!"

They murmured about this machine like it's the best thing since sliced bread.

The vainest recesses in my head are crying for some attention. No, (sob), I'm the best thing since sliced bread! You are all so hurtful!

Well, if modern technology is better to them than me, I'm retiring for the night.

Hmmph!

I silently ambled up the staircase to my room and shut the door.

Tonight is one of the nights I wish I could just fall asleep.

So is life.

…

What do I do…on a frigid Saturday morning in Forks? The only thing I can do to keep the Insanities out of my head.

The candle sat modestly on the wood floor of my room. The candle flickered occasionally, left to right, right to left…

The normal individual scents of Charbonneau's candle enter my nose.

Pennyroyal. Chamomile. Pine. Freesia. Maple. Spring water. Spanish Moss. I felt an anticipatory butterfly in my stomach, as those scents mingled together, finding their place.

I just kept thinking…I'm in a river. The river is raging. The river is deep. The sun is gone, covered with a heavy blanket of gray clouds. I bobbed up and below the raging river water. But something new happened…my trance self was out of the river, running, running. I think, that this cloudy new place wasn't Forks, or Tupper Lake, or Rochester or anywhere I've ever been. At the same time, I knew where I was.

Ireland?

Yes…I think. The place was greener-than-green, and larger-than-life, and there was the river I ran along next to me. Then the voices came, but not mine. Rosalie, Rosalie, they cried. Not they, she. Just she. I kept running forwards, that was where she called me.

Pretty cold girl! Little woman! Keep running, she called.

Then I tripped. I never trip. The river curved sharply to the right, and I found my face in a bed of vivid wildflowers. A pair of feet stood in front of me. An ankle had a daisy chain around it.

Ah, my pretty cold girl! Stand up… I stood, and faced a pretty girl. She had these sleepy green all-knowing eyes. The flowers. There were these flowers, everywhere. In her blonde, the same pretty shade as mine, hair there were wildflowers, around her neck, just…crazy flowers everywhere. I hadn't a clue who she was…she could have been Good Rosalie in disguise for all I knew. That would bite.

Rose girl…

Oh, am I Rose girl? This meditation was weird, with the whole plot of it. This stuff never had plots. Never were really daydreams more than just relaxing. Lately, the dreams came from nowhere, like right now.

Heed my word, Rose girl…you should… The flowery girl looked up, away, as if to put this into words for a puny vampire like me. …do whatever he asks of you. Do you understand, little cold girl?

Until when? Who? I don't understand.

Good, my pretty girl. Splendid…

And like that, I blinked, and the flowery river girl was gone like that. How…clichéd. My trance feet brought me towards the curve in the river, into the cerulean water to the deepest part of it, and the sweet smell of maple surrounded me. The other fragrances separated away and it was me, lying next to that periwinkle candle.

Weird stuff happenin' in Rosalie's World? Vampire Rosalie yawned.

Weird stuff is always happening in Rosalie's World.

Yeah, I bet. Just for kicks, do you know what the flower lady was talking about? Vampire Rosalie chuckled.

What? You do?

I know everything. I'm the part of you that is the smartest, of course.

Yeah, okay. Whatever. Where are the other two?

Huh, aren't you just the caring person? They're probably fighting, but to be honest I don't really care.

Well, tell me what happened.

You serious? I'm not just going to, reveal, the meaning of that whole dream to you. I'll give you a hint, but you owe me big time.

I owe myself nothing. Talk.

Take everything you know into context. Ireland, rivers, somewhat mythical flowery mirror image of yourself… Now listen to this: The 'he' from the flower girl is the most important he you know.

My mind is jumbled and fuzzy and context and being an investigator wasn't my idea right now.

I'm done. I'm breaking protocol as it is. Have fun with that.

Emmett

This television thing is probably the best thing…

Ever.

It is like, all of my dreams, in a box. With sound! The best part is that there WAS a cartoon with not just dancing mice. There was a plot, and those neat eyes on all of the characters, and there were horses and dogs, and other animals…and…Rosalie…

Oh God. Oh God!

This isn't my dream in a box. All of my dreams are upstairs. This television is nothing! Nothing at all. My little lady is upstairs, probably very wrathful. I'm surprised that she hasn't just destroyed the television yet.

Maybe you guys should just get married before you do something you can't take back, yeah? I mean, you have to live with these people for a long time, might as well make the best of it, yeah?

Edward's eyes slowly left the television to rest on me.

"Emmett," after this his words are impressively quick and soft, "are you thinking of marrying Rosalie?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. Yes."

"Well, I'm all for it. I'm not really sure if you want to, though. Maybe you want to speak with Carlisle."

"Yeah…maybe I should, Edward."

"But then again, if it's so damn important, no one else's opinion should matter," he said, and returned his attention to the television.

…There's good old Ed, being a genius again.

How was I going to do this? I just wanted to be with my angel. No frills, except if Rosalie enjoyed frills. Then we could do frills.

Unfortunately, I don't have a sparkling diamond ring I can just pull out of my pocket and reminisce about how I found it at the bottom of the Ohio River. So, we're just going to be normal and buy one. What a concept.

I should get kicking.

…

You know, maybe right now, simplicity is key.

It is best.

And damn, if Rosalie ever wanted another wedding, I'll give her exactly what she wanted then. Well, if she doesn't reject me the first time, right?

Heh. I'm not nervous, or anything.

No…

Why would I even BE nervous?

This is all very sudden, a very sudden idea, but it's only proposing to the most temperamental, beautiful, vampire in known existence. Come now, everyone does that.

Everyone does that.

I have spent the last ten hours ring-browsing and deliberating…but not in that order. Well, it was in that order for a few hours…

Does this happen to every man?

Yeah, of course it does!

I'll just think about something else. Well, this ring, the one that's creating a lot of worry for me, is across from me on the kitchen table.

Oh, buck up, Emmett, it's been seven years. Like she hates you, or something. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. No woman can resist you...

"Hey, Emmett," Rosalie entered the kitchen from behind me. I snatched the black box off of the table and grinned.

"Why, good afternoon, little lady!" I chuckled nervously.

"Same to you. How's that television going?" I could taste the spite in those words.

That made me a little uncomfortable. "Oh, uh, it has a nice picture quality. There's a channel with cartoons on it."

She resisted sneering. "That's wonderful, honey."

My words are in as much pain as me. "Yeah," I croaked.

"Ah, well, it's time for my weekly crossword puzzle." The change of topic made her brighten up significantly. "Do you have a pencil, I can't seem to locate one."

"Not that I know of, but I'll look for one, right now okay?"

"It's okay-"

"No, I think there's one on the counter. I'll get it!"

Rosalie put a finger in the air to halt me, but gave up. I pushed a bunch of miscellaneous papers on the counter out of the way, which revealed a perfect Number 2 pencil. I handed it to her.

"Uh, thank you. Are you okay, babe?"

"Am I okay," I scoffed, and fell back into the chair across from her, "Che, I'm perfectly peachy."

"If you say so…"

The moments passed, and they passed nicely and sweetly. I just kept staring at her. Maybe I should apologize…

"Emmett? Is there something in my hair?"

"No, why?"

"You're just staring."

"No, you're just beautiful."

"You're too good to me, Emmett."

"I wish I were better."

"No one has treated me better than you, so don't give yourself a panic attack, okay?" She penciled a word into the puzzle.

"Okay, well…can I apologize for thinking the television was more important than you?"

Rosalie looked at me from behind the puzzle book. "What, you think I was angry?"

"Uh, yeah. I did. It was a little obvious."

I think if she could have right now, she'd have blushed from embarrassment. "I guess it was kind of obvious. So, yeah, you can apologize."

"I'm sorry."

"And it's okay."

Grated washes of relief splashed over me, dark then light in my soul.

It was silent, at least between us. The only noise in the kitchen was the scrawling on the paper.

"Oh, I need to ask Edward about this one."

"What is it?"

"You can't do crossword puzzles, though."

"Try me, sweetie."

The swishing of love made me do stupid things. Like embarrass myself in front of my girl.

"What's a ten letter word for 'dark?'"

The word popped out of nowhere. "Caliginous, lovely." I placed my head on my hands and kept staring, longingly.

Rosalie raised an eyebrow and skeptically scribbled the word into the puzzle. "Ha, it worked," she didn't smile. Then she did after a moment, "Do it again."

"Okay…" If I was good, then let it be known. It was a little nice to be good at something so intelligent-seeming.

"Seven letter word for 'calm.'"

I dug through my head, trying to come up with something. It came. "A halcyon. The word is halcyon."

"Wow, you're really good at this."

"Only for you."

"Okay, okay… 'Means sun in Welsh, also means to pull.'"

"Haul."

"I give up, you're good at these."

"Gee thanks."

"Gee you're welcome."

Emmett, do this tonight. Propose to the angel. What's there to lose? Uh, more of my dignity? No, in fact, you have no more face to save, pretty boy.

I ran a hand through my hair, and after staring at the liquid golden waves of Rosalie, my mess of hair felt like death and fur and sandpaper. She says I look so pretty; but her hair is perfect and stuff. Sometimes life is funny like that.

I slammed my hands down on the table. "Let's go somewhere!"

Rosalie doesn't react to this very much. "Where would you want to go today?" She penciled another word onto the puzzle.

"Anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever. Elsewhere. I don't really know, but I want to go with you."

Rosalie's brow furrowed, like she was going to decline assuredly, but it went away. "That's real sweet. But where will we go?"

"We're going camping."

It was as if I said, "We're going to go murder all the townspeople of Forks, then we're going to laugh about all of it!"

"That is the most preposterous idea I have EVER heard."

"Don't knock it-"

"'Til I've tried it? Fuck no. I have a life."

"Rosalie, that was really vulgar of you."

"Yeah, but you're not defending your idea, are you?"

"But I am," I assured. I ran around the table to her, "Imagine, if you will, the starry sky at night…the feeling of a northerly wind just caressing your golden locks…falling asleep next to your sweetheart, knowing you're just a little speck of vampire in a universe of anything…the taste of my lips…"

Rosalie made a pout-snort that sounded like she was trying to impersonate Esme trying to impersonate the Queen of England. "That last one had nothing to do with nature."

"Yeah, but it helped, right?"

"No. I'm not going to sleep in the wilderness with you. I'm not going to…"

I tried to pull off some puppy-dog eyes. "Please, little lady? For me?"

She bit back a smile. "Fine! We'll do it, okay?"

"Oh, great! I love you so much!" I hugged her.

"Would you have said that if I said no?"

"I love you whether you hate camping or not, Rosalie."

"Just checking. You know I like to keep you on your toes."

…

I packed a day or two's worth of clothing, and made sure the box was still in my pocket.

Surprisingly, Rosalie packed the same amount.

But it was all very discreet. Rosalie just mentions, "We're going out, don't expect us back for a day or two."

And Esme goes, "Okay, then. Bye you two."

Edward just looked at me, like, 'if you come home not-engaged, I WILL laugh at you.' So now we're in the garage, ready to go.

I opened the passenger door for Rosalie and she puts her hands on her hips, like…"Emmett, what are you doing?"

I came very close to her face, my lips millimeters away from hers. "I'm driving. And you aren't, little lady."

Her eyes looked kinda woozy, but she held her own. "Who said?"

I kissed her in the way that began quickly, but lasted long. I pulled away and whispered, "I did."

The roads are nice. It's about that time of summer where the sun set when you wanted it to. It was only four in the afternoon, far from the sunset's time, but time passed quickly when you were me.

"I can't believe I'm actually going with you, to do this." Rosalie said, and looked out the side window.

"Well I can. I'm so excited!"

"The things I do for other people…"

"Yeah, you are such a volunteering person."

"Yeah, I know!"

"Are you serious?" I looked at her, and then at the speedometer. Eighty-seven.

Rosalie looked at me, a rebuttal; "Are you serious?"

The fire of her gaze pummeled my witty riposte into submission.

"So where are we going?"

"Good question. But I'm thinking there's going to be some trees. And rocks. And dirt."

"I wouldn't have guessed…" I smiled slightly at her comment. She added on suspiciously, "Is there any reason why you forced me on this stupid trip?"

Play it cool, pretty boy. "What? What! No. Well, first off, you came on your own free will, and two, there is absolutely no reason at all. Maybe it's because women like you need a dose of nature."

"Are you insinuating that I'm not up-to-par with your standards? I'm not good enough?"

What? NO! "What? No way. Why are you being so critical of my words?"

Rosalie shrugged. "I think it was that goddamned television, messing with my head."

"Well, relax. Okay? We're just driving…feel that? It's…pavement. It shouldn't induce head-messed-with-ness."

The car zoomed past the Welcome to Oregon sign.

"This seems far enough from anyone who cares, eh?"

"Em, everyone cares about a blonde bombshell and her gorilla of a boyfriend with muscles the size of large ferrets. This is America. But sure, to answer your question."

"Large ferrets? That one I haven't heard. Wait, Em?"

She raised one perfectly formed eyebrow. "Oh, you caught that?"

"Well, yeah. You know I'm extra-super-sensitive to name changes." I stopped at a red light.

"You should be happy you're not something worse. I was never into nicknames, until you showed up. I still think I'm not into them."

"Speaking of, I believe that little lady is getting old," I proposed, and Rosalie met my eyes in horror. "I think you're so…not little anymore. You're this mature lady, grown and beautiful. Call it clichéd, but you are so much better than little."

"Maybe I'm just Rosalie?"

"No, nononono! You are too good for just…Rosalie. You can be my…"

"Oh God, Emmett." I reaccelerated.

"You are my Rosie-posy!"

"That is the stupidest name ever."

"That isn't up for discussion, Rosie-posy."

"Well, it sounds like I'm your pet mouse or something."

I gave a 'don't try to get me to reconsider because you are my Rosie-posy forever and ever' look.

"I hate mice," she added.

"So do I," I said.

"Just keep driving, Emmett."

"Okay," I replied feebly.

So, we decide that we're vampires and we can walk to anywhere we wanted to go, so we parked the car in a lot and continued on foot.

It turns out that vampire camping is a lot more simple than human camping. No need to build a fire, no need to bring food, we technically didn't need a tent, no need to fish for trout, no need for something to protect yourself with. It amused me. Life is changing like that, making things easier once you stop caring about them.

It's twilight, and it never got old, like reading a book you like over again.

We left the little space we deemed a campsite, to just walk. I haven't quote-unquote just-walked in a very long time.

The black box is still in my pocket, feeling like Excalibur or the Sorcerer's Stone, screaming, Use me!, Use me!, Give me away and do something!

But we didn't say anything. It was silent banter. I folded my arms across my chest, and looked up, into the sky, seeing the uneven silhouettes of trees outlining the sunset-y, twilight-y sky.

Rosalie pried my right arm away from my left and held onto it, like a teddy bear or a mother's arm. I didn't recoil; I just enjoyed her touching me. She purred, and leaned on me as we walked.

How was I going to do this? Just wait for that perfectly opportune moment…how will you know? I'll just know.

I'll just know. Of course it'll come to me in a flash of knowing where I'll just know.

It was just a little walking roundabout thing for us. A perfect internal positioning system I had prevented getting lost. I always know where I am. I always knew where I was.

On the cusp of the forest, where it ended and reached out into a jagged cliff, we reached.

All that was left of the sun was an orange glow above the horizon of the world, surrounded by blue and purple and red.

"Rosie-posy?" My voice is stale from the silence.

"Yes, Em?"

"I love you so much. Serious. With all my heart. My dead heart."

"My dead heart adores you too. Serious," she smiled and looked me dead in the eye.

It was the sweetest feeling I've ever felt so far in my life, but not the knowing one. So I hugged her with all my might, and she hugged back, and I think things could only get that much better.

I'm so happy. Then I felt something else. The dynamic force of do-it now! began to rush through my whole being.

"Rosalie?" I slipped out of the hug.

"Yes, Emmett?"

"Rosie-posy…the love of my life…you wouldn't want to," I got down on one knee, and I was going to pass out I swear (forget the vampire jargon, I WAS going to pass out), my left hand reached for the black box and the five fingers alone managed to pry it open, revealing a God-knows-how-many-carats-I-just-know-it-cost-a-lot diamond ring, and I finished, "marry me, would you?"

Rosalie looked blank, then confused, and then she began to hyperventilate and run her fingers through her hair. "Oh my God, oh Emmett, oh…"

I grinned. Seeing a flustered Rosalie is the best Rosalie. She seemed human and imperfect right now.

"Yes! Yes, of course! Oh my goodness, yes!" She hopped up and down, waving her hands in front of her face. The dynamic force mixed itself into a feeling unlike any other, of mere happiness, and something more than happiness and love and night and life and everything. It was beauty and the saccharine caramelized sugar I lived for and Iowa and water and-and-and…

She, still unbelievingly, plucked the ring out of the box and tried to put it on her finger. Her hands were shaking and she hit her pinky and her middle finger, but not her ring finger. I got off my knees and held her hands with mine, and I slipped the ring on the correct finger. "You've got it, sweetheart."

"Oh, I never thought you do this, I always thought you'd never ask, I thought it would never happen and you did it, and I love you, I love you I love you I love you!" Rosalie leaped onto me, a big happy hug. It seemed that she wanted to just hold me and kiss me. She placed sloppy, in-the-moment, joyful kisses on any part of me she could easily reach. My face, my arms, my hands, my neck. I kissed back, because I was just as happy.

"I love you too," I said. But it wasn't any 'I love you too' I ever said before. It was an 'I love you too' that was special and different. Unexplainably different.

"We should get back, Rosie-posy, before your clothes get ransacked or something."

Rosalie grinned. "What about yours?"

"No one would want mine," I pointed out.

"Ha, I would!"

"You're biased."

"I know!"

I began to turn, to start back, and then I feel weight on my back. "Rosalie, why are you on my back?"

"Because I want a piggy-back ride!"

"Okay?"

"Go, monkey man!"

I felt her arms wrap around my neck and her legs close around my torso, and I held them. "Let's go, then!" I ran as fast as I could, faster than ever, probably faster than ever possible for my body, just for now. I was fueled by happiness.

The trees and the rocks and the green, gray, and brown passed effortlessly. "This is so fun, Em!" Rosalie squealed.

"Yeah, I know, Rosie-posy!" I screamed back.

And I ran.

Once we got back, it was already deep into the night. So maybe I ran past the campsite a few ten times.

We were both dizzy from spinning and speeding and general euphoria. I felt so crazy.

Rosalie crawled off my back and stumbled forward, giddy.

"Oh Lord, let my feet carry me still! Haha!" she giggled, "This was an awesome afternoon, lovely."

"Yes, it was," I agreed.

I just fell forward, and crawled towards my stuff. Rosalie laughed and grasped my collar from behind me. "Where are you going? You're sleeping with me, sugarplum!"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But we don't sleep."

"And that's perfectly fine," she said, and pulled me closer.

Then, my perfectly amber eyes met her perfectly amber eyes, and the giddiness morphed into seriousness. "That's perfectly fine," I said. Her arms slipped around me and I returned the favor, pulled even more.

"You're perfectly fine," Rosalie kissed my cheek.

"Thank you very much, Rosie-posy." I whispered.

…

Two days in the wilderness and a marriage proposal can really change a person, you know?

Rosalie is like, animated. She's happier than I am. Which is weird.

And the ring, it's not that exciting, but Rosalie goes and shows it off to everyone back at the house.

"God, Rosalie, it's wonderful and I'm happy for you, but you're blocking Chip and Dale and you need to move." Edward said. Man, don't mess with his cartoon schedule. You might get hurt.

"Oh Rose, you're so grown up! Your choice in men is so good!" Esme squealed, and then Rosalie squealed, "He's so dreamy, and he's so nice, and I love him so much!" Then they both started squealing and hugging.

Maybe I always just notice when they do this, but I swear, women.

Carlisle put his hand on my shoulder, which only meant something really good or really bad happened. "I'm so glad she's found her mate, a soul mate. She's needed someone like you for a long time."

I'm embarrassed by all this attention. "Someone like me?" I squeaked.

"Why, of course Emmett."

"Uh, thank you Carlisle. I appreciate your praise."

Carlisle scoffed. (Carlisle scoffs?) "Most men would kill to be you, son." I love how I'm the son. Edward may be the 'poster child' around here, but I'm happy with being the 'men would kill to be you' son.

Rosalie is walking on air towards me. "Emmett, we've got some planning to do!"

"Yeah…" I began, but Rosalie is like a motorboat.

Edward smirked, he mouthed 'Good job, man.' Then he gave me this, 'yeah, you wish you could watch Chip and Dale, but you have to plan a wedding. Have fun with that,' look.

"So I think there should be blue, because you look really good in blue…"

Sometimes life is funny like that.

To be continued…

Gah, I'm so happy I finished this! I usually am, actually. Well, thanks for reviews and stuff. Ohmigosh, you know what a stretch it would be if I managed to get 37 reviews? That'd be flipping awesome. But a stretch. You know, I don't think I edited this very well, it's long and my attention span is getting smaller every day. So, excuse me for any mistakes, buddies.

On the anyhoo, I am not going to have fun with next chapter cause I've only been to like…3…weddings before and they are all not very pleasant experiences. Wow, awkward times in Phoenix Land. And yes – the long awaited arrival of Alice and Jasper will come. In completely unrelated news, I got the newest Bloc Party CD! YAY! Just thought I'd say that, cause I've been waiting for it for a hella long time. So, I munna keep on writing.

You know the drill, review if you want to…blah, blah, blah…