Had this chapter left unfinished in my folder for a while too long...
Stripped
She often delved into the realms of romance with hope, and curiosity. A dream that many children carried with them since childhood. A handsome or beautiful individual (she believes that her sexual orientation hadn't ever burdened her), would come and love her for all that she is and not lust for all that she is not, and they would have a love story that wouldn't dwindle in time. She was duly devoted to her own fictional deliberations, numbly contriving even more wild fixations once the previous one became too absurd. It never seemed to occur to her that it was her own emotions that would assume her ruination.
A blonde so feral emotionally, and a brunette despondent and so very cultivated in his own endeavor to find his actuality: both exasperated within the clutches of a mere memory; a previous existence they've deemed innocent.
They were so distinct from one another, the similarities apparent, though some traits deviated from the other seamlessly. One defiant in his love, the other tainted upon happenstance. Both innocently venturing to sustain and claim her heart. Only then maybe that was where they all proved defective.
She wants to condemn one; be it she, he, or they. Bella fathoms that all three deserve the damnation. Her frustrations are directed towards none, not him, or her. She is not angry; it's not her owned anger. Or maybe in a cynical way it is hers' to own now that the truth continues its radiant parade.
She is a victim to their melancholic activities. Rosalie—her mate, her apparent tether—is within a forced ache of her own doing.
(Only her mind serves to further alienate that bond and remind her of the hurt and disappointment the blonde has instilled within her. Or maybe she's done that on her own.) She disbands the tears silently.
She actively evaded the true instincts dubiously.
Her real, validated emotions are momentarily stifled underneath the weight of the word mate, but then they creep slowly, leisurely; misery, and hurt, and so much confusion. Her mind is a muddled mayhem of contemplations, her emotional state so fickle and frail in every tiny sense. Yet she does not want to contend to the turmoil of them both, but she is spent.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally weary she wholly covets the idea of becoming sheathed within welcomed arms that crave to ease her woes. Easily take in the aura of one who cares tenderly and sincerely. Huddle into the allure that is her mate. To whom of which is equally as vulnerable as she currently is, of who has always been this vulnerable.
And this vibrant ache in all its brilliancy has always accompanied the blonde. This hurt never allowed the vampire a moments rest…always a near whisperer. Bella wonders, honestly so. How Rosalie was never consumed by this pain. One that seems fortified with every other second fliting by; she fathoms that maybe this certified pain was one the blonde felt indebted to all the while tethered to it indefinitely.
She was meant to reduce the burden of life. Yet she merely incited the riot.
A tap sounds from her left, and then another. She remains settled within her emotions. Only a flimsy breath sliding from her lips. The sorrow embedded in her chest indicates that her options of how to deal with the intruder is decreased to only a select few, and she relents.
"It's open."
Alice sidles into the room in a nimble effort. Bella follows the tentative and soft smile deliberately. It all ends once the tiny vampire is settled on the brink of the bed; stare furtive.
The silence escalates until it becomes a precise reminder of the company her reality aches for.
"Soon that ache in your chest will turn into one you won't be able to ignore." Alice says fluently, not kind, neither reproving—tone merely informative.
Her head tilts with a query already forming. Bella does not ask, but she does nod. Her eyelids slide shut voluntarily. The implications of the visit do not bother her; however, they do quell the tenacious murmurs settled in her mind. Rosalie's pain, a stealthy whisper over her shoulder.
"Where is she?"
Bella would be a fool to inquire about the blonde using the cliché of 'is she okay?', yet the question tickles the tip of tongue.
Alice smiles all the same…washed, sincere, and evidently sad.
"She and Jasper went to hunt," Alice hums distantly. "Other than that, she's been in that confinement she calls a garage. I believe she's been..."
She blinks, hardly perplexed from the honest recount.
"I love her Alice."
There is no exponential alleviation from her heart and that alone entails the hurt inflicted. Alice climbs into a stance, expression wildly vulnerable.
"And she has always loved…" The vampire cuts herself short. The declaration not hers to pronounce.
Her features crinkle into fine disappointment, brow pinched in mistrust. Alice has always known, or more so understood the purpose of the blonde's early dislike well before she has. Yet she coddled Rosalie and her decision, and thus willfully made Bella out to be a fool. They all had. Bella turns her head downwards.
"I could never hate her," Bella initiates distantly. "I never have, but this…this choice she made is making it so much harder for me to put my trust into her. It would have never been hard for me to fall for her."
Bella pointedly motions towards the door as the silence clings to the air between them. The vampire much alike a beam of optimism somberly walks to make her exit.
"And she's never been happier. You've been her peace in a life that she never wanted for herself. As much of a coward she's been—that we've all been…you're still the most beautiful petal to ever blossom on our rose. And you must think of her as the saddest thorn to ever prick you," Alice reopens the window, and pauses. "Because then you'll be able to really see the happiness that radiates from her when you're so much as mentioned in passing."
The tears that overcome her saddened orbs fall only after the vampire lands with a soft thud.
…
It's the fourth day on the second week that the family makes their appearance. Or Bella believes makes their presence known, as she could feel that faint and pesky prickle in the back of her neck that meant one of them was near her home. And the appearance so happens to be in the same place that it all started. In the very same order, however they trickle into the cafeteria and it's the blonde that enters last. The rain pelts down on the school bitterly, if she believed the world was cruel, she would think that the universe wept for her—because she did not think that it would hurt this much to catch a glimpse of the blonde's hair as the coven walks by them silently.
"Wish I could skip school as much as them and meet the states attendance requirement." Jessica grumbles to her left.
Angela swats at the teens arm, and Bella can see the warning nod in her direction they all send towards the honest brunette. Bella intends to focus on pushing the peas on her plate around…the reflective hint of water filming around her eyes.
"So, what we're just going to ignore the enormous elephant in the room?" Eric tries to hush the fed-up teen to no avail. "It's nearly been two weeks. Bella did break up with the Cullen's again?"
And the timbre of the question is laced with more curiosity than venom, but it clams her bones like a toxicant, nonetheless. Head dipped low shamefully, her chair moves scraps across the tiled floor loudly. The abrupt movement catches the attention of the entire room, and the emotions build as she scurries into the empty halls quickly. She does not dare chance a look towards them.
An invisible hand clamps onto her throat, and her chest aches for more than the air that cannot willfully escape. The tears fall freely as speed walks through each corridor, and she blames herself for the depth of her sorrows amplified by the absence of the blonde—because she misses her, empty soul torn for her rose. And for that she's so angrily fraught for her indecisive emotions.
('Soon that ache in your chest will turn into one you will not be able to ignore.')
She comes to a halt and leans her forehead on a nearby locker to cool the heated skin.
And that familiar prickle, that soft and delicate pinch comes to her in the form of her own audible sigh.
"Bella…" There's that breathy utterance of her name, spoken with such reverence.
She waits, palm settled on the metal locker insistently. It all overwhelms her…it's with the erratic pulse in her ear drums, and the vampire's presence is so loud that becomes her. Her ordeal with the coven, her spurt of depression, the life and free will she felt once they came together, the pain she feels that is not her own, the moment she fell into the space that is Rosalie. She'll come to know later that this was the instance where they peaked far too high, and the ground readily waited for them at the bottom. The emotions dipped into the other, those that are not her own blended well; fear, adoration, sadness, anger, desperation, rue, longing…it consumed her like never.
"No," Bella curls her fingers into the palms of her hands. Heat shooting to her face—emotions coming to a head. "Don't you understand what you've done!"
Those amber eyes are wide and forlorn. Bella could only imagine how wild she must look advancing an inch closer to the blonde.
"You've created a mess! I trusted you to be honest and open, and I love you Rosalie—I love you so, so much but you've ruined us in the most terrible way. And it hurts because I know deep in my mind that I want to hate you but my heart," She taps on her chest pointedly. "My heart won't allow it. You let me be with him and love him while you suffered in the background. You let me hurt you over and over again!"
Rosalie, her beautifully ruined mate, stands before her dazed.
"I can feel it Rose," Bella cries out madly. Exasperation apparent. "I can feel you so deeply and it hurts. And I just don't know what to do Rose. Just please tell me what to do to make it go away..."
And she cannot help but fall into the blonde as easily as she did before—this time she's spent and heartbroken. Rosalie's arms welcomes her. Though she is stunted from this encounter, the vampires face pinches somberly.
"Bella," There's that breathy utterance of her name, spoken with such reverence it could rival any. "I never…I know. It's all my fault and I have to make it better. I want to make it better."
She's never hated the elation of her hearts content like this before. And with a cowardly inhale of Rosalie's scent Bella takes a fistful of the blonde's sweater.
Throat raw with emotion, Bella murmurs lowly. "You wanted to torture yourself, and you used me as to do just that. I want to believe you did this for me, but I know you were afraid of me. Afraid that I would actually be able to be some sort of contribution to the happiness you hate so much."
"I have missed you more than I ever believed I was capable of. And I am so sorry that I couldn't overcome my self-reproach. I should have never let this happen to you."
Bella meets Rosalie's earthly stare. Vulnerability reflective in their heated gaze, and Bella foolishly thinks this to be the moment they share themselves. And weakly she finds that despite this flurry of emotions between them, she cannot escape this woman's pull. She did not believe it possible for these wildly animalistic emotions to consume her more—this want once she's entered Rosalie's orbit.
"And to think I didn't believe it possible for me to adore you more," Bella tucks a strand of hair behind the pale beauties face. "But of course, I find out in a moment of chaos that you're the most intoxicating force on this planet."
Rosalie smiles sadly and it overwhelms her how much sorrow leaks from those amber orbs, how much tragedy this vampire has encountered. It's those warm eyes that entails the horrors and true age of this her beautiful, wilted rose. Rosalie leans into the human's touch and Bella thinks that she'll be able to tell others that she has held the most precious flower in the palms of her hand.
"You've been alone for so long. I can see how weary you and I just…I need you to bury the horrors of your past in me. I want you to love yourself far more than I could possibly love you. I need you to use me, Rose. I can handle it. I promise." Bella whispers gently.
And it is in the place that started it all that Rosalie stripes herself bare. Wholly vulnerable to the human she's privilege to call 'hers'. It's in this dainty hall that the vampire consumes her whole, and Bella's soft exhale before their lips meet tells the tale of content. It is in this heated kiss that calls to elated whimper of her heart, and its beat rings a melody in the vampire's ears. Bella fell into this kiss like she never has and this honest love, warm and full becomes her. She understands now that this moment however the turmoil it stirs, it's the instance she has always waited for.
Rosalie pulls the human into her so that they're impossibly closer than deemed imaginable—their lips pull and push and move together innocently. And ruefully the blonde stops the most tranquil moment she's ever come to know.
"I love you," And it's in the place that started it all, in this ordinary hall that Bella worships those three words. "I love you so much Bella and I am so, so sorry I didn't give myself the chance to say it earlier."
Forehead rested together, Bella chuckles lowly…emotional windswept and spent but completely fond of this beautiful rose.
"Say it again." Bella murmurs breathless.
And it's then in this plain hall that Rosalie smiles the most delicate smile to ever grace her lips.
"I love you Isabella Swan more than anything I have ever had the privilege to love. I adore you more than anything that I have ever—"
Bella reaches on the tips of her toes to plant a quick kiss to the vampire's mouth.
"However adorable your claim to theatrics may be, I don't think I need to hear more than necessary."
Rosalie nods, the human understood—the bell startles Bella from her venture to capture the blondes' lips once more. A frown pinches at the helm of her brows. The interruption burst their tiny bubble and she feared for the future conversation they needed to have in order to reattain that air of 'trust' that once surrounded them. The vampire detaches herself from the brunette and worries her bottom lip distractedly.
"I will come find you after fourth period. I hope then we'll be able to…"
Bella nods in turn. The halls soon fills with students hurrying towards their next class. They each semi-turn to their respective direction and Bella mulls over how anew and relived she feels despite their concerns not yet being resolved…then Rosalie is peering at her with the faintest smile that reaches her eyes in a way that she's yet to witness and wonders not of her settled turmoil. Rosalie stands before her, stripped and bare for her alone and that warms her soul entirely.
Felt like I owed you guys a kiss. But it's been far overdue anyway and I like to think that I was able to not force it...let me know please.