Posted on archiveofourown, but I forgot to update here. Apologies!
She 'is' My Creed
And the blonde vampire, sullen in profound ways, inclines her head dutifully. Dulled mind murky as she becomes wholly lost in all events prior, Emmett (she finally comprehends) lets her loose, his heavy hold slackens leisurely. The shriek of tires reverberates around their eerily silent space, and when her brother steps out of the car to usher Bella (who flinches, and recoils at his delicate touch) into the passenger seat does the vice around her throat compress.
"Rosalie." Edwards's call is sharp and clipped, as he hovers close to the driver's side door.
('She needs you').
She meets him quickly, strides clumsy and erratic, a vampire unable to walk any better than a fawn. This was no different than a prolonged march of torture.
"Get it together Rosalie." His hushed tone, is the most delicate he's ever directed towards her.
It's far too similar. The occurrences share all sensibilities that had come with the evening of her second death, and it pummels into her in a disquieted taunt. That smell, slick, heated, strained, and honest; that stench of fear blends into the sweat and visible tremble. Rosalie slides into the drivers seat lifelessly, endless stare vacant. Her eyelids ache with unfallen (never to kiss the thin air) tears, ashen face lost. This moment perhaps will haunt her perpetually because she, her human's heartbeat is erratic and beats with a brutish scare. A torture that will last lifetimes, because she can smell hear and feel that terror of what could, would, have become of the situation. There's a guilt that looms over her ominously, surly, and her bones feel weak.
Bella was hurt. Physically she has yet to observe any imperceptions, but how could this human ever put the faith and pleasure of trust in her ever again. The blonde nearly retches at the implications of this dark night.
(They're connected. Tethered to the same emotions, bound with the one soul that breathes. Latched in an eternal embrace, for the heart that beats, it beats weakly).
Head hung low, her hands contract around the wheel, lips parted a silent sob escapes her.
"Bella I—" Rosalie crumbles as a hushed cry emits from the human's mouth.
Vocal cords constricted and strained as the hiccups of sorrowed sobs work against her throat, and Rosalie finally peels away from the scene. Sense filled with the heartache and anxiety of the human rapidly falling apart next to her.
A wariness overcomes her once they reach Forks.
Bella's low cries had subsided fifteen minutes into the drive, and the brunette has stuck to looking out the window, watching the city disappear quickly behind them. Rosalie doesn't dare peer at the raw teen besides her.
"You have blood on your knuckles."
Rosalie involuntarily flinches at the hoarse voice. Saddened that their shared silence was now full because she'll have to deal with the implications of everything. Her rather barbaric reaction to the attack, the pain, revisit the situation, and her mate. Of whom still quivered in her seat uncomfortably every couple minutes. She can feel the thick substance caked on her knuckles, but she fears if she wipes at them now then she'll fall apart at every seam that's keeping her whole. She's held hostage, within the confines of her past, present, and future unified into one moment.
"What were you doing there?"
Bella, eyes wide and owlish juts her chin down. Head dipped low as she forms the next few words, trying each word on her tongue. A sentence that seemed to be vital in this particular situation.
"Rosalie," Bella tries softly. And the vampire recoils emotionally. "Are you okay?"
And this human, this frail and wrecked teen has the audacity to ask her a question so earnestly, with worry, and warmth. A sharp intake of surprise occurs before Rosalie's gaze snaps towards the ever-attentive brunette. She, her human is already looking upon her; soft eyes raw with dried tears, stare fond and sensitive to the vampires unriddled tension. And Rosalie falls, crumbles underneath that willful stare.
"You're the one who…" She tears her away and back to the road. "Don't ask me that. Not when you are the one who was nearly defiled."
Her anger rises, as her hands tighten around the steering wheel. A small indention crated in the leather.
She hears a low rustle of fabric, and before she knows it there is a warm hand laid gently on her wrist.
('She's never felt warmer. A kindled heat set alight').
"I am fine. You saved me. I don't know how, but you found me, and you saved me. That's all that matters."
Rosalie trembles bottom lip tucked between her teeth violently. They remain silent for the rest of the drive. Silence overcomes the pair and Bella wholly welcomes it, because internally she believes that Rosalie tends to bask in the presence of quietness. Bella occasionally gives direction with an unnecessary point of her fingers.
…
It made sense. That whatever entity above would introduce her to a mate of this creation—kind, defiant, persistent, with the ability to deal with the intricacies of her own character in a convinced and resolved manner.
Because as she peers at the human from her position in front of the car, she understands that she'll be missed. That Bella and this, hole that has been in place since the night of her turn, would have been dark, cold, and colossal. Rosalie would have fallen into the abyss of sorrow, on an endless pummel towards whatever was beneath her lifeless soul—the darkest chasm created and filled with a sense of purpose. As Bella wrestles amongst some internal turmoil, Rosalie understands now. That those pink tinted cheeks, red rimmed eyes which peered at her delicately, soft heart-shaped face, moussed hair and busted lip painted the faintest hues of red, must be protected from this cruel world. No matter the beastly life that the teen was to be thrust into because Bella was 'her human' to protect wholly her's to stand beside.
Rosalie's blood-stained knuckles contrast against the softness of Bella's soft features, her violent hands gently linger on the busted lip of the human. The irony of the easy way Bella leans into her touch is, and never will be, lost on her.
"I am sorry I didn't get there in time," Rosalie deflates. "I should've gotten there quicker. I should have taken up your offer to go with you."
Head shaking in disapproval Bella allows a shaky breath to escape her lips.
"You did get there in time. It could've been worse. He would've…They would've…"
With the human's evident discomfort, Rosalie interjects.
"What do you need from me?" Solemn, honest, and kindly spoken.
(She falls ever more captive into the gravity of that warm, honey lilt timbre.)
"Charlie, my dad, will be home soon. I just…a hug would be nice," Bella reddened in embarrassment meekly dips her low.
The vampire inclines her head silently, uncertain eyes laid solely on the shorter teen.
A touch, humanities vitalities in the most common sensibility. It blooms within her cool veins, dips below the chasm where her heart should be. This human, her human, who dares peer at her in wild softness cradles her neck delicately. The warmness of her hands have the audacity to allow s fondness of this touch to creep and crawl into the coldest mutations of her dead body. And Bella pulls, captures her into the orbit of sureness. Bella, this foolishly innocent human, pulls her into a homely embrace that offers the universe at the palms of her hands that caresses the small hairs at the back of this vampire's neck. A touch, humanities vitalities in the most common sensibility has never melted the worries of her eternal pain, not like so.
Rosalie wonders not of the sureness of the hug, but of the controlled force she must cradle the hips of the small brunette with. In order to find appreciation with this human's touch, the blonde melts. And whom is being comforted she cannot decipher, but the low hum of the human's heartbeat calls to her. The light stutters create a gentle tune that rings true to her ears, and it becomes much too good and innocent that she returns to the loud guilt that's loomed over her the entire night.
('A sense of the soul, each tethered, one pulls while the other stumbles').
Bella pulls away, and Rosalie moves with her momentarily before snapping into existence.
"Thank you. I'll be fine. I am fine, because of you Rosalie."
Rosalie nods distantly. Eyes shadowing the human who backs away leisurely, before turning on the balls of her feet. And the blonde grabs hold of the door handle of the car, before.
"Bella," Rosalie curses herself for the quick-witted decision as the teen turns round to meet her gaze. "If you need me. Just…call and I'll be here."
The implication of that earnest statement falls between them heavily. Rosalie doesn't miss the flicker of remembrance that floats around those brown eyes, or the small inclination of the brunette's head. She does however hear the whispered comment that's uttered far to softly for any other human to hear as she open the car door with a click.
"There is something eternal about you," Bella whispers distractedly. "And those dark and observant eyes...Almost like a nocturnal animal…"
Stare still on the blonde Bella look almost convinced, orbs wider than any sudden comprehension—it dawns on Rosalie that she was meant to hear the comment, murmured as though quoted it from a faint memory.
"You know." Rosalie answers stiffly.
"Yes."
And the vampire blinks, a courtly bow about her nod.
Updates might be a little more consistent if I can get all my school work done.