"And, oddly enough, he needs me, too. That part worked out better than I could have hoped." - Rosalie, Eclipse, p. 165 (Stephenie Meyer)

Quick note: Thanks for your kind, insightful words! I don't feel like I deserve your compliments, but it makes my day to see how you respond. Here's a short part three that touches on illuminating the other half of last chapter. It's actually one of the first bits of this story I wrote and built around. I used my personal experience and feelings to craft some of this chapter, but did some research on expanding to truly be representative of what Rosalie's going through in her psyche. I wanted to truly do her character and what she represents to me justice as well as show her voice and motivations throughout their physical interaction. I feel like this is one of the climaxes of Rosalie's internal experience and it was definitely difficult to write because of the content hitting really hard, but I do appreciate your patience as I get back into a routine with school and mental health care. I really value your kindness and your reviews! Thank you for investing in me and this story!

Side note: I don't think I was very clear in the last chapter that Edward wasn't spying on them, he was just reading outside to get some mental peace and quiet and as Emmett and Rosalie returned home, they 'ran in to each other' unexpectedly. Also, no, Emmett is still unaware of what happened to Rosalie. He's got pieces of information, but nothing concrete. That conversation is coming... So is a chapter with Dorothy. Get ready ;)

ALSO IMPORTANT INFO: This song at the top of the chapter is the one that I relate to the most in my own life, but also I find the most relevant to this story and to Rosalie's experience in particular. "The loneliness never left me. I always took it with me, but I can put it down in the pleasure of your company." Since the first time I read Twilight I always felt a deep understanding of Rosalie and maybe I projected myself onto her... But I just really appreciate having this outlet to cope with the darkness in my life and to create on a character by Stephenie Meyer that I have such a strong love and perceived understanding of.

Please consider leaving a review! Every word means the world to me! Thank you immensely for your words thus far.

TW/CW: PTSD, sexual assault, sexual themes

No Choir

And it's hard to write about being happy

'Cause the older I get

I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject

And there would be no grand choirs to sing

No chorus could come in

About two people sitting doing nothing

But I must confess

I did it all for myself

I gathered you here to hide from some vast unnameable fear

But the loneliness never left me

I always took it with me

But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

And there will be no grand choirs to sing

No chorus will come in

No ballad will be written

It will be entirely forgotten

And if tomorrow it's all over

At least we had it for a moment

Oh, darling, things seem so unstable

But for a moment we were able to be still

Rosalie

I bloomed like a flower in early spring as he showered me with the sort of devotion they wrote poems about.

My heart was all at once heavy and lightened in my chest. But mostly, I felt calm.

So I pressed my lips lightly to his cheek, his skin feeling like satin against my lips.

He was sweet, tilting his chin down slightly, so that I felt his openness… Now, he was asking for mine.

I thought about taking the jump from the cliff, the way the wind rushed around my skin the exhilaration of hanging in the air with him.

Now, there was a similar feeling in my stomach and a clarity to my mind.

So I paused, hanging on the moment hovering over his lips and I felt it all.

I felt everything.

But, I still wanted to feel him.

So, with the softness of the falling snow, I touched my lips to his.

The smallest spark lit the fire of a thousand suns in a million different celestial galaxies and I felt us begin to float in the zero gravity, the only thing holding us to the earth being one another.

So, I clutched him closer braiding my fingers in his curls to make sure he didn't float away. His hand tightened at my waist, anchoring me here.

I needed him like I'd never needed anything.

As his hands came to my face, cradling it like it was the most important thing he'd ever held, I finally felt whole.

I sighed into his mouth, and he dissolved into me. It took me higher to have him merged with me, somewhere beyond all understanding. He felt it too.

We pulled away, and our eyes met in an otherworldly way, communicating a thousand epics.

I'd never felt this way before.

It was like I'd discovered I could speak a language I didn't know was always deep within my soul. No one else could speak it, except… Emmett.

Actually, it was more like there was this ancient dialect on my skin that no one else could translate, not even me.

But, he could.

Oh, he could.

At this revelation, I wanted to find out more.

I wanted him to tell me.

I needed him to tell me.

God, I was desperate.

I wanted to know myself, my body, my mind, my spirit.

I wanted to know.

His hand pressed at the base of my spine and my body listened. I was acutely aware of his skin on mine and I felt his assuredness.

I wound my arms around his neck, breathing him in, each new touch of our skins enlightening another bit of my mind.

We communicated through the surfaces of our body, and I wanted to know him more and more so I tangled myself up in him.

But, the more I tangled myself in him, the more I seemed to awaken myself.

It felt like my body was yawning, stretching from being asleep, like I'd been caged in a space too small for me and now I was finally free to expand.

Then, he pulled away, or something pushed him away.

He turned his cheek.

I was desperate.

I'd been isolated for so long, that his touch awakened me.

My loneliness…

"Don't." I begged him.

Just as I was starting to feel… Just as I was starting to know…

"Are you sure?" He asked me, his velvet voice dropping low.

Despite his closeness, it sounded like he was thousands of miles away and all I could think of was my emptiness and my need.

I was still hungry, so I reached for him again.

I needed him closer.

I was addicted.

I wondered if this was what it was like to drink human blood, the indulgence of it all, the dire desperation.

It was like I was running then, running toward something that was getting further and further away.

The only satisfaction was the way I grasped for him.

For myself.

I was diving deeper, and deeper and deeper, and soon I would reach what I longed for.

I could barely feel the contact of my back with the rocks of the cliff, but I gasped into him, wanting to inhale him.

Every detail of Emmett's skin on mine was racing through my mind. I thought about the places he touched me in excruciating detail.

In a surreal almost daydream, I imagined my skin was turning red as blood and dissolving into the water everywhere he hadn't touched me. I needed him to hold me together. I wanted him to understand.

I needed to understand.

As he kissed down my neck, his body departed from mine and I was going to fall to pieces.

The spots where he left my skin felt like they were going to fall off and wash away in the water.

In a panic, I wound my arms under his shoulders, pulling his body closer to mine.

I needed to feel his weight. I needed him to touch every single part of me that had been touched before.

To erase.

Erase…

I desperately spread my fingers over his back, terrified that I was falling apart and all those rotten pieces of me were just dissolving into the lake.

He'd see.

He'd know.

I needed him to hold me together.

I needed him to touch me faster so I wouldn't fall apart.

Emmett's touch felt healing, and I was selfishly exploiting it.

I latched my leg at his hip, feeling him on my inner thighs and knowing I'd felt a man there before.

I'd been hurt there before.

I needed Emmett to keep erasing where Royce and those monsters had touched me. I needed a new memory written into my skin. I needed it.

I was hungry.

Emmett pulled away to find my eyes and he was obviously looking for something because his focus darted back down before he kissed me again.

He'd slowed, as if he sensed my need for him and it was too much for him to bear.

I couldn't accept that. It terrified me.

He was more reticent in perfect proportion with the way I made my desperation known.

I wanted to be his, and no one else's. If I was his, my body could forget.

If my body was his, it wasn't Royce's.

If my body was his...

I could change.

I could move on.

It'd all be erased…

If I was his, I'd stop being theirs…

That's when I felt him between my legs, the weight, the angle, the way his hands laid on my skin, the way he exhaled into me… Something I'd felt too closely before triggered a deep reflexive response, and I came back into my body with a startling gasp.

I'd been set alight, my skin burning and charring at the residue of his touch. All of them.

I felt it all over again.

I relived that evening in the streets of Rochester in a matter of milliseconds, but didn't spare a detail.

With the abruptness of a gunshot, all the pain, suffering, and isolation came rushing back in, but the worst of it… Oh the worst of it was the way Emmett looked at me now as I experienced a liminal space between what Royce and those men had done to me, and what Emmett and I had just done.

He looked over me with wide, concerned eyes, like I was some sort of broken winged bird.

Immediately, I wanted to cover myself.

I imagined my body as it was in the streets of Rochester.

I was horrid.

It was like he could see my red, ugly skin that had been so horribly abused. No matter what Emmett did, it remained.

No matter how deeply he kissed me. No matter how close he held me. No matter how much he made me feel… impossibly… loved….

It remained.

I was so stupid to imagine he was erasing what had happened.

It couldn't be erased.

"Is everything okay?" He asked me, full of worry.

No.

Nothing was okay.

And it would never be okay.

I was ruined.

I was garbage.

I wasn't a woman.

I had no sexuality. I had no identity. I had nothing.

"We should go." I panicked, feeling blind because I didn't see the world we'd created together before.

It was all crumbling down now. The wallpaper was peeling off of the earth.

Its ugliness was exposed.

Just like my own.

"Yeah, gimme a second." He cleared his throat, turning his back to me.

Shame ate away at my center and I clutched my shoulders tightly.

I was… dirty.

And though Emmett tried, he couldn't erase what they'd done to me.

It was too deeply etched into my skin, into my psyche.

I went through the motions as I'd done the first few months of being a newborn, and before my numb mind could catch up to my numb body, I noticed I'd started walking home as Emmett caught my stride.

"I…" He began, but there was nothing he could say.

I clenched my jaw, willing myself to be invisible as he searched my face for clues.

"Well, um… that was sure some kiss." He said, running his hand through his messy hair.

My stomach dropped and my fingers reached to trace across my lips unconsciously.

"Right?" He was checking.

I don't know what it had been.

At first it'd been a kiss…

But, then it became something else.

It was like I couldn't even remember it because it didn't really happen to me, but… it did because I still felt it throbbing on my lips and across my skin like a bruise.

"I guess it's a good thing my confidence isn't that fragile." He tried to lighten his tone, but it was still probing. "Or my masculinity."

The corner of my mouth turned up at this. I was supposed to be amused.

I went through the motions.

I was out of control.

The world was dimming and I could only see a pinhole of light around him.

I looked over at him, terrified I was going to mess things up because I was so broken and ruined and horrible.

He was the only thing I had any faith in anymore so why… why did I still feel so… dirty?

Why did I have to push him away? Everything was fine… Until it wasn't.

I felt guilty, showing him my brokenness, not even being able to kiss him properly.

Why couldn't I separate what those men had done to me and what Emmett and I wanted to do now?

I did want to kiss him. I did want to.

I didn't feel pressured or manipulated or taken advantage of.

My mind had been clear. I wanted to kiss him.

But, still I faltered.

I sighed, crossing my arms.

"What's wrong?" He asked me, snapping me from my darkness.

I was surprised he could still see me as I disintegrated.

"Nothing." My voice was a little too high pitched.

He saw through me, frowning a little.

His instinct was to touch me and that was obvious with the way his hands twitched to reach for me.

I gripped my arms tighter, feeling like I was a live wire that could electrocute him with just a little proximity.

Something was running through his mind that troubled him. It troubled him so much that it read obviously in his eyes and the way he carried himself. His boyishness shone through in this insecurity. Insecurity I'd never known he could have.

He absolutely vibrated with pent up energy, and it was infecting the air. He was… nervous.

I kept my gaze away from him, but I could sense it.

Something was heavy on his mind.

I worried that he knew. I worried he'd put the pieces together.

He sighed, awkwardly stepping outside of his stride in a way that took him further from me.

I looked toward the horizon seeing a flash of copper hair, a book stuck in the air before gravity caught up with it.

Edward.

I was mortified then at all I was thinking so candidly. Embarrassed didn't even cover it, so I giggled under my breath.

Emmett looked over, his eyes wide.

It made me feel even more nervous and awkward and ill-fit, so I laughed a little less restrained.

"What?" Emmett's voice held a little panic.

This was my chance.

"What were you just thinking?" I asked, trying to show my amusement over my panic.

"Nothing. I wasn't thinking about anything. Nothing." He cleared his throat, his panic outweighing mine in this moment, so I felt my panic begin to subside.

"Because whatever it was sent Edward running." I pulled the corner of my mouth up, trying desperately to return to how everything was before…

I was too heavy though.

I exhaled.

As Emmett took stock of Edward's escape, I watched his eyes, seeing humor light up in them.

"You sure it wasn't what you were thinking?" He teased, the dimples on his cheeks making me weak at the knees so I had to look away.

"I'm sure." I said icily.

"Would you tell me what's on your mind then?" He asked with anticipation.

I wouldn't tell him.

I felt guilty. I wanted to give him who I was before.

But, I couldn't.

Because I wasn't her anymore.

I couldn't charm him with my smile because my smile was taken.

I couldn't flirt with clever things from my mind because it was infected.

I couldn't bat my violet, sparkling eyes at him, because they'd been beaten in and now, though they were golden, all they saw was darkness.

I couldn't kiss him with my lips, touch him with my fingers, or give him my body... Because it had all been taken from me.