Quick note: HOORAY FOR NEW READERS!
Thank you endlessly for your reviews and encouragement! It makes me SO HAPPY to see your responses! Thank you for investing in me and this story! In this uncertain time, I hope this story provides you some sort of escape or comfort. I'm sending all my love to you all. ALSO, HOW EXCITING FOR A MIDNIGHT SUN RELEASE!
This chapter IS A DOOZIE at 11,000 words and expands upon the last. This chapter, along with the last have taken shape as perhaps the most important parts of this entire work and why I wanted to write this in the first place. There's a definite need for discussion on healing after trauma and the secondary victims of sexual assault in particular: the partners of survivors. I have so much love and respect for the couple SMeyer gave us with Emmett and Rosalie, and I think they had to navigate through incredibly difficult things together even before contemporary social developments that began to equip us for these difficult conversations, but that are unfortunately so real for too many people.
One exchange in particular beyond when Rosalie tells Bella that Emmett is exactly the kind of person someone like her needed is actually in the few chapters Stephenie Meyer released from Midnight Sun long ago in an exchange between Emmett and Edward. Edward mentions to Emmett or thinks it, I can't remember and she's taken it down today so I can't check for the exact quote, but Edward tells Emmett Rosalie's more work than a pretty face is worth. This REALLY triggered me and while it may not have been inherently meant this way, I couldn't help but think it was in reference to her trauma because while she is much more than what happened to her, there's a lot to sift through and detach from her identity in the process of being more than her trauma. I know you guys are FULLY aware of how much I love Rosalie and Emmett, but this is sort of hit the pinnacle for me. The two of them represent a whole lot more to me than I felt was written from Bella and Edward's limited perspectives, and they truly exhibit qualities of deep understanding of their partner.
I also find it incredibly interesting to note they live apart from the rest of the Cullen family habitually, and Edward even mentions this to Bella. This was in reference to Emmett and Rosalie's sexual relationship and how the others can't stand being around them, but I believe it's interesting to imagine they had a disconnection from the others that was more deeply rooted in how they understood one another and all the private dealings they had to navigate together apart from outsiders.
- ! I want to emphasize that in order to write Rosalie into her time period of 1935, and specifically her society life and manners, there's some reference to her beliefs on sex and physical intimacy that are incredibly warped and dated - particularly in regards to purity culture.
After the last few chapters focused on Dorothy's loneliness and limited understanding of the supernatural dealings happening around her, and the frustration she's beginning to feel for Rosalie's cryptic nature because of these misunderstandings, I felt this chapter had to return to the core of the work, but also set things up for Emmett's loyalties to be tested in later chapters in a far more realistic and conflicting way. This is to come. ;) And to help set up a little more clearly, the exchange between Dorothy and Rosalie that is coming up after this. I wanted Rosalie to be in a vulnerable place, an emotionally exhausted, low place when she goes to meet Dorothy - a new rock bottom.
ALSO: I wanted to create a reason for Rosalie's connection to the mirror, as it's something defining to her character and I found a spin on it that I feel is very canon. I hope this comes across!
*****NOTE: This chapter details Rosalie's sexual assault and how she recalls it for Emmett. ! PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER IF YOU FEEL THIS WOULD PLEASE BE COMPROMISING TO YOUR MENTAL/EMOTIONAL HEALTH ! PLEASE STAY HEALTHY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES!
chapter notes if you want to skip this one: the chapter begins with a conversation between RxEm about sex, particularly why he doesn't think she's ready and his assumptions about her purity that Rosalie is triggered by. After detailing her assault, Emmett reacts with love and support and the two of them explore new boundaries in their physical relationship.
Please pleeaaaaaase consider leaving a review! Every word means the world to me! Thank you immensely for your words thus far.
TW/CW: sexual assault, ptsd, purity culture, trauma
Also just FYI, it's definitely very lemon-y at the end of this chapter ! YOU WERE WARNED if you don't like that stuff, read the chapter description above and just wait til the next chapter to continue reading. Or just avoid the last 1/6th of this.
Never Let Me Go
Looking up from underneath
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me
As before I went under
And it's peaceful in the deep
'Cause either way you cannot breathe
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under
Oh, and it's breaking over me
A thousand miles out to the sea bed
Found the place to rest my head
Never let me go
Rosalie
"I…" I was so nervous.
"I want to know why…. why you…"
He waited, running his hand through my hair, and I looked away in shame.
"Why you wouldn't…" I swallowed, unable in my own vanity to even say it out loud. "Why you didn't want it with me…"
He took a deep breath.
"Rosalie…" His voice caressed my name. "Of course I want it with you. In that moment, I could've jumped clean out of my skin I wanted you so badly."
"But…." He started with the but that I knew was coming. "I don't know how to say this without hurting your feelings."
"Then don't try to spare them." I said tightly.
"I don't want to have sex with you when you're not ready to give me what I need from you." He told me.
I felt sick, his expectations coming center stage now and I wasn't ready to confront them.
"I don't think it's fair to you, but it's not fair to me either. I love you and that complicates things. I want you for the long haul, and I wanna protect you right now even if I'm protecting you from yourself. That makes me wary of having sex when you're not ready for all of what that means to me."
"I am ready." I felt exposed, only half heartedly arguing.
"Rosalie, listen… I love you and I want to have sex with you because I love you. Right now I know you love me, but you don't want to have sex with me for that reason." He observed intuitively and I hated how he saw the inside of me so clearly.
"I…" I stumbled over the words. "Well… I… I do. I have good reason…"
"I'll tell you what it looks like to me, and you tell me if I'm right." He suggested.
Without waiting for me to agree, he began.
"Besides the obvious, that you find me charming and irresistible of course…" He couldn't let the opportunity pass for a joke, but I was thankful for it in this moment as it dispelled some of the tension and nervousness.
"It looks like you think sex is going to fix some sort of disconnection you feel from me." He said.
I clenched my jaw.
"It looks like you think that sex is what I want from you so you have to give it to me in order for me to give you something you need from me in a sort of transaction. Instead of just asking me for what you need…"
My stomach dropped.
He sidestepped, reading something in my face.
"What do you need from me, Rosalie?" He asked.
"Nothing…" I exhaled, looking away from him in this vulnerability, hating every second he got closer…
"Everyone needs something." He told me.
"Do you need to know you can trust me?" He guessed. "Because there are plenty of other ways to do that than sex."
"What do you need from me that you think I can't give you right now?" I asked, turning the tables and referencing his first point.
He took a deep breath.
"I love you, Rosalie, and that's new to me. When I said it was meaningless sex before, I meant it. I don't… I don't know how to navigate the part of sex when it actually means something, and it makes me extra cautious with you. I've never had sex with someone that I love or with someone that loves me, actually loves me."
He spoke of his deepest vulnerabilities with wariness, but openness, understanding what he was asking of me was important to him enough to articulate clearly to me.
"That makes me very… protective of you and that look in your eyes that tells me you're not ready. It makes me hyper-aware of the problems that could arise from rushing into anything because I want you for the long haul. When I see that… it… scares you, no matter how much I want it, that changes everything for me."
He searched my face for answers to the questions in his mind.
"I'm not afraid." I tried a last ditch effort knowing I was just hurting my cause with how my voice shook.
"Don't lie to me." He requested softly. "You should know by now that you don't have to. It's okay."
I looked up into his eyes, seeing the entirety of the galaxy in his irises. The universe moved and reshaped within his gaze and I surrendered myself to it, a world he created in which it was….
It was okay.
I was okay…
"Can I ask you something?" I started, needing to physically tether myself to him to ask the words out loud.
I reached for his arm, winding my fingers around his elbow as I ducked my head into him. He wound his arm around me, feeling my anxiety as he squeezed me tight.
"Anything." He said sincerely, his voice velvet as the sky.
I swallowed my anxiousness, knowing he would be honest with me.
I vibrated with nervous energy.
"Will it hurt?" I asked, my voice broken and echoing with fear.
He looked down at me then, pulling away to search my face.
It was obvious he didn't expect me to ask that.
I worried.
"No. Rosalie, I wouldn't hurt you." He swore the oath to me, but it only made me more nervous.
He took a deep breath, pulling me back into his arms, but making sure I still was looking straight into his eyes so I could see his seriousness and process the truth.
"Maybe it'll hurt a little at first, but then it won't." He assured me, running a hand through my hair and cradling my face.
"Okay." I accepted.
We stayed silent for a long moment, then he sighed before speaking, something soft and kind in his eyes I didn't recognize.
"Rose, if you don't like something, tell me and I'll stop." He caressed my cheek, looking deep into my eyes.
"Really?" I asked, my dead heart rising and falling in my center.
"I swear." He said strongly.
"Just talk to me. Tell me what you want and what you like and don't like. We'll never do anything you're uncomfortable with." Emmett held my face in his hands, worshiping me like I was the most precious thing on earth.
It made me nervous because I trusted him…
So much…
And this exchange made me love him more than I ever thought possible.
"Rosalie, if you're worried, about being a virgin… We'll go slow." He told me kindly. "I'll take care of you."
Like I'd been splashed with cold water, I pushed out of his arms.
The glaring, heavy weighted trauma within me showed itself now.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay." He misread the intent of my reaction.
"I can't." I protested to the intrusive thoughts in my mind that told me I would burst if I didn't tell him.
"You can't what?" He reached out, pulling me back into his arms.
I remained stone, but felt myself trembling as he continued to stroke my hair.
He cradled me in his arms and kissed my forehead in comfort.
Empathy rolled off of him in waves, and the trauma of my past was knocking at the door to my heart begging to be shared and understood by someone I loved and someone that loved me.
But, I still felt so much shame… My demons told me this made me unworthy of his love….
However, I realized that I wasn't wanting to talk about it because I wanted to see if he'd take on my baggage. I wanted to tell him because I loved him, and I wanted to heal so I could be happy and enjoy our relationship.
I owed that to him, but mostly I owed it to myself.
I trusted him to help me.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough." I took a deep breath of his skin, tethering myself to the present with his scent.
I wanted to be free of this pain.
"Then let me help you." He said lightly, whispering it into my hair as he held me tight.
I clutched fistfuls of the fabric of his shirt, closing my eyes.
He sensed something was wrong, wrapping his arms around me in a haven.
"But, I'm afraid you won't want me anymore." I said in a hollow breath of revelation into his chest.
"Rosalie, I want you so much it devours me." He said, kissing any part of my face his lips could reach.
I stiffened and he slowed, starting to pull away.
"I have to tell you something…" I started, not sure if I could do it.
"Okay." He nodded, his eyes darting over my face but submerging his frantic worry with an outward calmness.
I took a deep shaky breath, my hands trembling.
"And… And I don't know how…"
"I don't know if I'm strong enough to do it…" I breathed.
"You are. You're plenty strong enough." He tried to convince me.
"I don't know…" I breathed.
"Let me help you, baby." He whispered. "What do you need me to do?"
"I need to tell you, but… I don't know if I'm ready to tell you everything, just… just some of it and… I just… I just need you to listen. No questions."
"Okay." Emmett radiated warmth and calmness and it helped me take a deep, shaky breath to center myself.
"And I… I don't know how much I can say…"
"However much you can say is enough." He nodded.
"Okay." I took a deep breath, preparing.
"I was walking home alone…" I started and I thought I was going to throw up with just these words. "It was April… It was too cold for April."
Even these details, the details I clung to so I wouldn't forget, were difficult to say out loud to him.
"I didn't call my father to escort me home. I should have. The street lamps were already on… It was late. I didn't know how late… I was at a friend's house… She had a baby… Henry…"" I breathed, being swept away.
He noticed and reached for my hand.
I withdrew it. I couldn't be touching him right now.
He understood.
I shook my head, refocusing.
"It was just a short walk home… Just a few blocks… Not even ten minutes…" I went on recalling the name of each street I would pass. "But under one of the broken street lamps, there was… there was a group of men…"
I looked down and away, seeing clearly every detail of that night. I remembered the smell of the alcohol as I approached.
"They were drunk. One of them called my name… He knew me…" I went on not sure how to proceed. "And I… I knew him… I… I was engaged to him. We were to be married within the week…"
I took a deep breath, and Emmett seemed to follow this pattern, just this one note of information being a lot to process.
"They were all well dressed. Sons of all the richest men in town, but he… Royce…" I snarled his name. "My fiancé, well, he was richer than them all… He was a King after all. That was even his name… And it would've been mine too."
I shivered.
"I knew them… But, I… I was surprised to find them drunk. They didn't drink champagne at all the parties. Just a toast every now and then." I began, my heart climbing to my throat, and I decided then to tether myself physically to the present as I guided Emmett's arm around my shoulders.
He was careful, like I was porcelain.
"Royce grabbed my arm… He said they'd been waiting for me… I didn't fight back. I didn't know… I didn't know what was going to happen…"
"Em, don't say anything." I looked up at him then, removing myself from the past and jerking back into the present. "Please."
Emmett just nodded, understanding.
"He… bragged on me, and I… I liked that. Insisted to one of his friends that I was more beautiful than any of the girls in Georgia, and Southern girls… have a reputation you know… Well... You do know." I exhaled, momentarily distracted by my attempt at a joke.. "But… But his friend told him it was hard to tell with my clothes on…"
I felt him stiffen, as I knew he would, no doubt looking on me with disgust and disbelief.
"So… R-He… tore the coat off my shoulders and the hat out of my hair…"
I couldn't even tie his name to that sentence.
My guilt washed over me in a wave, and I pulled away just enough to see that he wasn't looking down on me in disgust of disbelief.
He was looking down on me in concern.
I paused for a long while, spiraling in self-loathing before I could form a sentence.
"They enjoyed… my pain… I didn't understand." I exhaled.
"How could someone… like that…" I shivered. "There were five of them. Royce had two of them hold my arms as he ripped my stockings and pushed me into the brick wall… He told me I'd been asking for it. He… told me I had been denying him, but he was entitled to me… however and whenever he wanted. He told me I was a dirty whore for wanting…"
Emmett was vibrating with pent up energy then, and he tightened his arm around my shoulder.
I worried then if he would think…
But, "I didn't. I didn't want it. I… I didn't want…"
He was silent, just listening as I'd told him to.
I couldn't bear to look up at him because I was afraid of what I'd find.
I didn't know if I could say anymore…
But I had to, and I wanted to heal.
And this was about me…
So I didn't spare a detail. I had to tell someone else or it'd eat me alive.
"I said no…. and I meant no." My voice shook.
"But, they didn't stop. They held me down while he undid his pants. I'd figured out what was going on by then, and I tried to start fighting. I'd pulled out of one of their arms then and I started to run, but Royce caught me and pushed me flat on my stomach, climbing onto my back."
"I remember… my chin hit the ground and I… I bit down on my tongue… I busted my nose… I was… so…. fixated on him ruining my face then." I traced my fingers over my lips, physically unscarred.
"Because I think… I think I was in denial of what he was going to do to the rest of me… My nose… My mouth… That was so… insignificant to the rest… He told me what he wanted… and… and it was so violent… I'd never thought of it… like that… I'd never thought of it before at all… I told him no. I begged him not to. He hit me, then he pulled my hair yelling that I was ungrateful… That I was… embarrassing him in front of his friends…"
"He spit on me, and told me I deserved… I thought… I thought he was blaming me for what he was doing… I thought I should've dressed more modestly, that I should've…"
I swallowed, knowing I had to recenter myself to tell until I couldn't tell any more.
"But when he pushed up my skirt I… I… I didn't fight back. I'm so ashamed… I didn't… I didn't fight back." I said and I turned my face into Emmett's chest. "I'm not… I'm not strong, like you think I am…"
"Rose…" He started, unable to stay silent any longer.
"Stop!" I silenced him strongly, pushing away. "I didn't… I didn't fight back. I should've… I… I was just… frozen. I couldn't… And… And worse than all that… It's so… awful… I don't get it… I didn't… I didn't want to hurt him."
A wild, humorless high pitched scoff caught in my throat as I admitted some things to him so dark I didn't even think of them most times.
"I was still… holding on. I couldn't let go. I didn't… want to hurt him… I thought… I thought he loved me… I didn't think he'd actually… ever…. But, he did. He grabbed the back of my hair and shoved me down. And it hurt. He liked that it hurt. He liked that I cried. He told me he wanted me to scream… He made me say things…"
I shivered.
"I didn't understand. I wanted it to be over, but when he finished, he flipped me over onto my back and pinned my arms above my head. I looked up at him, into his eyes, blue as robin's eggs, but red and dilated in drunkenness. I thought when he looked at me, he'd… he'd stop. He'd let me go. He'd see me, and he'd remember… He'd remember he loved me… I had hope it was over then, that I could go home. That I could shower and… forget about it… I thought it'd be that easy."
"I remember wondering if I could cover my blood and bruises with makeup for our wedding…" I took a series of swift inhales, recalling the pain and the irrational patterning of my thoughts. "I thought about what I'd have to say to my parents when I got home, about the blood… the bruises... The ripped dress…"
"I didn't want to let go… I… Even then, I looked up at him and I thought about the life I'd imagined for myself… I didn't think it was too much to ask for. Fair haired children, a lawn of green grass, a husband, a kitchen someone else would cook in… Beautiful dresses…"
"I… I was worried about the weather… I… remember thinking it was too cold for a wedding…"
My voice was incredibly calm, recalling that otherworldly calmness I felt in that moment between…
"I remember I said… I said… God, I was so stupid. 'I'll see you tomorrow… Sober…' I thought he'd take me up on it. I thought it was over."
"But he stood up, started redoing his pants and he passed me off to his friends. He'd lost a poker game that night… He told them I was the pay up. That it'd settle his debts to them. One of them argued that it wasn't enough now that I wasn't a virgin anymore… I was worth less…"
I'd forgotten then, the point of reliving this trauma, and Emmett's arm tightened around my shoulders.
I checked in with myself, deciding I had to share more, that I wanted to share more. I needed to share more. His presence helped remind me this was in the past.
There was nothing to be afraid of right now.
"I wondered a lot in the beginning if he'd won that poker game if I'd still be alive… If it would've stopped there… But it didn't. He let them torture me too. Each one worst than the last. Doing things… to my body that…"
"God, then I hated him… The only thing that got me through the pain was focusing on how much I hated him. When Royce passed me around to his friends, letting them have their turns, I watched him."
"Drinking from the bottle, smug. Brown-Forman, medicinal whisky… I remembered thinking he was too proper to drink that, and it was bad manners to drink from the bottle. I wondered why he hadn't spent the money for a good bottle of liquor. Isn't that ridiculous? My hatred and my anger made me frozen, but I watched him…"
"A couple times, when it was especially awful, I begged him to save me…I think I always thought Royce would stop it. He definitely had the power to. Power… I thought he'd stop it all. I feel so stupid now."
"Royce was angry at me for what they were doing. He told me I was a dirty slut because I liked it… I didn't… like it. God, how could anyone? He watched me cry while they desecrated my body, and he told me it was my fault."
"It was no good to scream. They'd cover my mouth… They'd… choke me so I couldn't… It was no good to cry, though they asked me to. They told me to do a lot of things, but I'd left my body. The sounds they made, the names they called me, the things they said… I remember it all because I was silent and I just listened, because I hated them and I wanted to remember every reason why. They were monsters, and I hated them."
"I never thought they were going to kill me, though I certainly hoped they would have. It would've been preferable." I mumbled. "But they thought I was dead, believe me I wanted to be, and they left me in the streets…"
"I… I… I decided I wanted to die because… Because I knew no one would believe me." I choked on my words in a panic.
"Royce… was… a kind… good man… from a good family. He was… perfect… Everyone… loved him… Respected him…" I went on, my mind going through a tangle of toxic thoughts.
"If I lived… No one would believe me."
I concluded, knowing this wasn't all I needed to say, but it was some…
It was more than I thought I could ever say out loud, and I felt it like an open, festering wound that he could see now too.
I wasn't just imagining it.
He knew I had reached my limit then, and his hands hovered over me, scared to touch me.
I was thankful, needing to ease back into physical touch as I also came back into reality.
As I had requested, he didn't ask any questions. He was just there to listen.
I closed my eyes, tethering myself to the present by taking slow, deep inhales.
"Hold me." I requested then, and he wrapped me up in the haven of his embrace then.
I leaned my cheek into his chest and he pressed one of his hands into my back and the other cradled the back of my head.
We sat together our breath synchronizing in silence for what seemed like hours.
"I believe you." He told me softly.
I took a deep, shaky breath something completely validating about hearing him say that.
"You did something extremely difficult, talking about this." He said plainly, validating why I suddenly felt exhausted. "I'm proud of you."
I didn't understand, but I felt my open wound begin to be cauterized by those words.
My breath felt heavy in my chest.
Then, I opened my eyes, but I was still afraid to look up at his face.
I was doubting myself.
"I know it wasn't easy to tell me." He said evenly.
I just shook my head, nervous as he processed and responded, but I could feel his calmness and it made me feel calmer too.
I took a deep breath and he seemed to help the oxygen flow into my lungs as I finally looked up at him.
It put me at an odd, exhausted ease.
"I'm so sorry." I said in an irrational response from my clouded brain.
"You have nothing to be sorry about." He told me directly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were assaulted and put in a very vulnerable position with no control over what happened. You were very brave talking about it with me."
His directness was soothing, and something about hearing him say those words out loud helped validate my pain and my darkness in a way that helped me start processing them as I'd never done before.
I just nodded.
"What can I do for you?" He asked plainly.
I hadn't expected him to ask me that, and I blinked slowly almost as if I was in shock.
Maybe I was in shock.
I felt like I was floating away.
He noticed, taking my face in his hands lightly.
I centered myself, looking deep into his eyes.
In an irrelevant response to his question I just nodded. I couldn't form words. Time was moving really slowly.
He took me nodding though as a go ahead to touch me and he kept his hands on my face, staying locked into my eyes as a thousand years seemed to pass between my inhale and my exhale.
I hyper fixated then.
His hair was pushed back under his left ear. The more I thought about it, the more I decided I liked his ears. They were slightly too big, almost in a childish way but I found it oddly cute which seemed out of place on a grown man.
I smiled then, a tipsy smile as I traced my fingers along the curl behind his left ear, tucking his too-long hair behind his too big ears in a way that made me irrationally giggle.
His eyes darted over my face, staying calm but still with an edge of panic as he watched me respond, but I didn't let that concern register.
"Do you wear your hair long because you got teased for your ears growing up?" I asked.
"Yes." He said plainly, taking my hand and claiming it in his.
I looked down at where he touched me.
"I didn't hurt your feelings asking that did I?" I was concerned, finding his eyes again and my dead heart seemed to fill with nervousness that I'd hurt his feelings.
I looked down at our hands again, noticing, they were shaking.
"No. You didn't hurt my feelings." He said, keeping his voice even, but I was hyper fixated again, this time on his hands.
Just like his ears, his hands were large. They swallowed mine, so as I watched them trembling together, I knew it was his hands shaking not mine..
If my hands were shaking, his could steady mine.
"Because I like your ears." I told him, my voice tapering off as I fixated on the frequency of the vibrations of our hands.
He snorted, a little breathy, odd laugh that was very unlike him.
He pulled his hand away from mine then, very slowly.
I watched my fingers.
The shaking stopped.
I looked back up at him.
"I'm glad." He said, a slight furrow to his brow as his eyes darted over my face seeing something I wasn't seeing.
"Are you all right?" I breathed, my chest feeling heavy all of a sudden.
"I'm fine, Rosalie. This isn't about me. Are you okay?" He asked, but I heard it.
There was an edge to his voice.
He was worried.
I just nodded, taking a slow, deep breath.
I watched his hand, in a loose fist by his side.
Vibrating.
He wasn't really calm. He was just being calm for me, to make sure I was okay, that I was processing what I'd told him about me…
What I'd said had happened to me, not to some far off person. It had happened to me.
I'd told him.
And though it wasn't about him, he was affected.
I wanted him to have me totally, and in my mind, what happened to me made me less his.
It wasn't fair.
I didn't get a choice.
He didn't get a choice and now he was sentenced to pick up the pieces.
I felt trapped in my body, suddenly imagining it was marked and he could see it…
I missed who I was before this so so much…
He should have gotten her.
Romantic and sweet. Unburdened. In love with love.
She laughed, and danced, and twirled…
She felt safe.
She was enchanting…
Now that I wasn't her, who was I?
I was a monster.
I felt him looking at me, seeing me, but what was it he saw?
I was running…
The destination…
Would I ever get there?
The trauma of my past still drew blood, and still sent me into unimaginable pain.
I wanted him to understand.
I wanted him to forgive me my sins…
I wanted Emmett to know that what Royce had done to me had left even my perfect vampiric skin and my renewed psyche still in shambles.
But, I'd finally shown him the pieces. I'd finally revealed the rubble I was trying to reconstruct.
The task seemed daunting and overwhelming now.
The desolation now seemed too unbearable. Too impossible.
I didn't ask for this.
It wasn't my fault…
It wasn't my fault was it?
I felt embarrassed… A powerless victim, vulnerable…
My respiration transformed into swift, shallow breaths, panic rising in my chest as I began to feel vulnerable.
"Hey, hey, hey, Rose. Look at me. You're okay. You're okay. You're fine. You're with me." He began in assurance, obviously seeing my spiral before I even felt the crash. "You're safe. It's okay. Rosalie, it's okay."
"Don't leave me." I panicked, gasping.
"I'm not. I'm staying right here." He swore.
"I wanna go home. I wanna… go home. Emmett, I wanna…" I was breathing heavy, my eyes frantically looking over him.
"Okay." He nodded, trying to stay calm for me, but I saw it in his eyes.
I panicked, shaking like a leaf.
"Am I okay?" I panted. "What's wrong with me? I… I…"
I watched my hands start to shake as my body flowed with energy like nothing I'd ever heard. Venom pulsed wildly through my veins like the rush of being a newborn and I could've screamed with the way my insides wanted out.
"You're okay, Rosalie." He assured me, trying to keep his voice even but I could tell I was worrying him. "You're in shock. Something…. horrible happened to you. But, you're safe now."
"Something happened?…" I was spiraling, and as he tried to help me stay on my feet, my legs buckled under me.
"You were assaulted. But, you survived. You'll survive this too."
I whimpered, feeling disconnected from my body then. Like in transformation, I took in every detail of my pain, processing it somewhere in another plane that crossed my brain and body.
"Am I okay? Em, tell me I'm okay?" I looked up at him, confused and searching, not sure which way was up or down as my head started to spin.
His arms threaded under my shoulders and tried to hold me up on my feet, but it was no use. My knees were unstable and I couldn't stand on my own.
"You're okay, baby." He nodded, staying calm, but he swiftly looked over his shoulder for something. "Do I need to get Carlisle?"
Carlisle…
"I wanna go home." I panted, grasping at his arms like I was drowning.
"Why don't you lie down for a second? Come on, lie down." He told me, descending to the grass with me.
He tried to guide me to my back, but I thrashed, immediately physically triggered.
"I don't wanna lie down. No! I don't wanna lie down. I…" I dug my fingers into his arm, my eyes pleading with him as I climbed him like a tree as I avoided the ground.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Come here." He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders so I could be supported with my head on his chest. "Look in my eyes."
"I wanna go home." I begged him, doing as I was told and looking up at him again, fixating on the spectrum of colors in his eyes. "I…"
"We are home. Everyone's just inside. About 300 yards. We're in the rose garden out back behind the house. In Denali." He told me softly, telling me details I would remember and process. "Do you need me to get Carlisle?"
"Don't leave me." I panicked, my eyes darting to my skin.
Snow.
Carlisle.
Pain.
I put both my hands on either side of my head.
"I'm not. It's okay." He told me, running a hand through my hair.
Pins… In the street…
I flinched away.
He pulled back.
"Rosalie, you're okay. You're safe. Look at me." He insisted, fighting for my eyes.
I took a deep breath.
Tobacco…
Thyme.
Cedar…
"Emmett…" I grabbed his arm, a fistful of fabric a new sensation that I felt between my fingers.
The tangible connection shocked my senses.
"I… I don't know what to do to help you, Rosalie. We need to get Carlisle." His voice shook a little bit.
The instability of his voice was enough to align with my inner instability and it knocked me out of my unhealthy orbit.
"It was snowing." I told him in a breathy exhale.
"What?" He tried to follow.
"That night… It was snowing." I told him as I distanced myself from the memory. "It was so cold…"
He carefully started to brush the snow off my shoulders and the ends of my hair in a sort of ritual of care.
Vampires didn't get cold, but I shivered.
"Here." He took off his jacket, threading my arms through it.
"Let's go get Carlisle." He encouraged. "He'll know what to do."
"I don't want Carlisle. I want you." I told him, closing my eyes and inhaling slowly, now in his coat, the scent surrounding me more deeply.
I was enveloped, and the scent helped me come back.
"All right." He agreed with a sigh. "Can you tell me what you need?"
He shouldered the weight of my burdens, taking them from me so I could feel lighter.
I didn't have the stamina to carry the weight of my past all the time, so he picked it up for me today and I exhaled into him, exhausted.
"A birdhouse. Eight chairs. A dining table. A cello." I listed under my breath.
"What?" He asked softly.
"It's what I see." I told him and he remembered that's what I told him I did when I got overwhelmed.
"Good." He nodded, looking over at my sight line and making sure, seeming to check my work. "Good."
"I'm scared." I told him.
"That's okay. I'm here for you." He assured me, a childish wideness to his eyes as he looked over my face.
"I… I feel like I'm unraveling."
"You're not. You're so strong. But if you were unraveling that's okay too. I'll be here for you to put yourself back together. Because you will. You can, and you will." He told me plainly. "We have plenty of time."
Those were beautiful words and they seemed to patch my wounds, lying open for him to see.
"I can?" I felt foggy, like I'd hit my head, but I clung to him.
"You can." He swore.
"I'm sorry." I apologized again.
"No. Don't do that. Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." He said directly. "Listen to me. You did nothing wrong."
"But, I… I was so stupid…"
"Rosalie. You are not at fault." He said strongly. "You couldn't have known."
"I thought he loved me…"
"That's not love, Rosalie. That's not love. He hurt you."
"Why would he do that?…" I couldn't grasp it in my mind and I panicked, like I was reaching for the rungs of a ladder, but I was falling…
"Because he's a monster. It has nothing to do with you." He tried to get me to see.
I shook my head.
He moved on. Had a lovely life.
The life I wanted…
The life I deserved…
But, he… took it from me…
Yet… He still got everything.
I clenched my hands into fists, a tangible connection to my body as my nails dug into my palms.
Emmett and I sat in silence for what seemed like a century as I processed and calmed my inner world.
"Sometimes… When I look in the mirror, I see the bruises. I see the blood on my teeth, my broken nose. I see my hair ripped out of my head, my clothes… ragged. I look in the mirror and that's all I can see. The broken mess they made of me… So I just stare… and stare… and stare at myself just waiting to see something different."
"I can't see anything different." I tried to keep my voice even.
"Then keep looking." He said, and I saw how much his instinct was to kiss me to make it better, but he didn't out of respect for my boundaries. "Because one day you will see something different in that mirror, Rose."
I exhaled, closing my eyes as he lightly touched my cheek.
"I… I don't want this to continue to define who I am." I breathed. "I've let it… For so long… I'm not… strong… like you are…" I breathed, ducking to press my forehead to his and close my eyes.
"Don't say that." He argued.
"Like what happened with your father… You didn't let it ruin you, but…. But, this… It's… it's ruined me." The weight of that awful reality pushed down on my shoulders, making me feel heavy.
"No… Rosalie don't…" He protested softly, tracing his thumb across my cheek.
"But, I'm trying…" I said, trying not to let my voice shatter as I leaned into it.
"I know." He took a deep breath.
"I thought it was important that you knew… But… But I'm scared that's all you see when you look at me now." I said.
He took a deep inhale, cradling my face with value.
"I see how much I love you." He told me. "How strong you are… How resilient… How beautiful."
"And one day, you're gonna look in the mirror and see that too. You're going to survive this, Rosalie. You're going to heal, and I'm here for you while you do."
I felt his hands shaking in my hair, and he moved them thinking I hadn't noticed.
"Are you okay?" I asked him softly.
"Rosalie…" He said, drawing out my name.
"You're shaking."
He paused, knowing he'd been caught.
I worried this had all been too much. I was too much.
Maybe I was redirecting and I actually needed to confront my own emotions, but maybe I also needed to hear his thoughts to start healing. I needed to make sure he could process, so he could understand.
So he could understand me…
"I love you." Was all he could say at first, but it seemed like enough, except it was obvious how choosy he was being with his words and it alarmed me because that was so out of character.
"I… I just wanna make you feel safe right now, Rosalie." He told me, returning his hands to my hair now that he wasn't worried about me noticing them shaking. "Do you feel safe?"
I just nodded, everything around me starting to calm, so my inner word could hyper focus on him.
"Yes. I asked how you feel." I asked him softly.
"I… Well… I don't know… I don't wanna say the wrong thing." He seemed to be treading lightly with me.
"Then say the truth." I said, sounding more confident in this than I felt.
"I just don't know what to do…" He admitted.
"You don't have to do anything. This is my fight." I exhaled, something about that filling me with an importance and purpose. "I told you because I just wanted you to understand… to understand me."
"I do. I do understand you." He claimed, his eyes locked into mine.
"And I want to understand you." I turned the tables, wanting to hear what he had to say.
He took a deep breath and it
"All right then. I'm… angry… So angry…" His voice sent a chill down my spine. "Not at you. I could never be angry at you, Rosalie. I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at them. I'm not angry at you."
"You've killed them..." He connected the dots then, and I knew by the flicker in his eyes he wanted to kill them again.
"I have." I couldn't help the tug at the corner of my mouth, but it was short lived as my stomach got a deep pit of emptiness.
"I'll tell you about it some time... Just... just not right now."
I did things that made me a monster...
He understood.
"You didn't do anything wrong. You're perfect, and…" He told me, taking a break to take a deep breath that filled his lungs, pulling away from me for a second. "I just… Rosalie, you're absolutely perfect. Do you know that? I need you to know that."
He spoke quickly then.
I just nodded, my eyes darting over his face.
"You're perfect, and strong, and…." His breath hitched in his throat.
"You're not angry with me?" I latched on to his words then, but they mismatched in my brain so I was resonating with the wrong ones.
"I could never-" He started.
"But, I… I'm not…. me any more." My demons swirled in my mind.
"Well, I don't want that girl. I want you. Who you are now. Who you'll become as you fight through all this." He insisted, but I'd barely hear it as I tried to
"I… I'm… broken and unclean. I…" My demons swirled in my mind.
"Stop." He commanded. "Look at me."
I did what I was told, looking up at him.
"That has no effect on your worth." Emmett took my face in his hands, steady and calm. "Do you understand me?"
I took a swift inhale, imagining I could explode with the wild feelings inside of me.
I heard him, but it was like he was far away and he was speaking in a language that was not my native tongue.
"Rosalie, look at me." He fought for my eyes. "That does not affect your value."
My respiration was thick in my throat and I looked up into his eyes to see myself more clearly.
His focus on me assigned me so much worth, gifting it and inflating it to the point I could burst. He looked at me with a reverent gaze as he held my face in his hands.
Could I believe him? Could I believe he saw me clearly?
I wondered if he just wanted to make me feel better.
"But… I want…" I couldn't even say it out loud, and I ducked away, covering my face with his hands.
"I want to…" I took a deep, painful breath. "Em, I want to give you that part of me… But, I can't… And… And it breaks my heart… I'll never… get that back… and…"
The tragedy of this was almost too much for me to bear.
He inhaled deeply.
He understood our earlier conversation in an entirely different light now.
When I finally looked up from where I held my face in my hands, I saw something in his eyes, something that almost broke me in two, and it reminded me exactly why I wanted to give him everything.
I loved him in a way that was more than love…
He took me in his arms then, cradling me to him.
I felt his respiration, in and out, in and out…
"You're… trusting me… with so much more…" He spoke sincerely, weight and significance in each word.
I clutched tighter to him not understanding and not believing.
"Even after everything, you're… you're trusting me to show you… that it… it doesn't have to be that way."
He started to reach out for me, pausing. I leaned into his palm to urge him forward and he kissed me ever so lightly on the forehead.
"To show you… Rosalie… that's not… that's not what it's supposed to be like. Love… Sex… Any of it."
He would help me relearn what these things were. He would help me attach new experiences and new memories to these terms. I watched the significance he placed on this and it made me take a deep breath, my heart swelling.
"It's overwhelming… In a good way." Emmett gave me a little smile. "I mean… I want to be worthy of the trust you're putting in me… I wanna do right by you and I know I can…"
I took a deep breath, comforted by his assurance and directness.
"I trust you." I told him, confirming his words as I looked up into his eyes, being swept away and centered by them all at once.
We were all that had ever mattered in the history of time.
"I want to take care of you. I want to…." He trailed off.
"I wanna show you Rosalie… Sex… it's something I'll do with you not to you… I…"
I bit my bottom lip, anxiousness rolling off of me as he revealed his own boyish nervousness regarding the topic.
It was highly uncharacteristic of him, but now it calmed me to sort of validate the pit in my stomach to something more like nervousness than dread or anxiety.
"It makes me nervous." I admitted.
"I know…" He told me with a nod. "And that's okay."
I exhaled, relieved by this small comfort.
"Will you talk to me about what makes you nervous?" He requested casually, brushing my hair behind my ear.
I took a deep breath then I sighed.
"Well… I… I'm afraid you won't… like it as much with me." I told him, hating feeling vulnerable.
He laughed, a full, unbridled laugh that echoed into the night air.
I gritted my teeth and frowned.
"That's what you're nervous about?" He snickered. "Baby… I love you. And I guarantee you… I'll like it with you more than I could tell you."
I was only half comforted.
"I was expecting something serious." He chuckled again.
"I am being serious." I grumbled.
"Rosalie… Loving you and wanting you like I do… I swear to you, nothing in this universe…." He expanded, not really sure what else to say to ease my mind.
I exhaled through my nose, knowing he'd given me all the validation in the world, and I just had to actually listen and absorb it.
"I'm nervous about the… expectations you have for me." I switched directions.
"Like what?" He centered his attention to listen to my concerns.
My dead heart thumped menacingly in my chest as I thought about the things those men made me do to ensure their pleasure…
"Rosalie…" He seemed to understand before I even said anything.
"I just…" I bit my lip.
"Nothing is more important to me than you." He said, strongly believing so. "I love you, and nothing I could ever want from you physically would be worth compromising you feeling safe with me. Do you understand?"
I took a deep, shaky breath, wondering what all he'd have to sacrifice to tailor to my skittishness.
He took my face in his hands.
"Rosalie, listen to me. Anything you don't like, we'll stop." He said with a nod of finality.
I believed him, but it made me sad.
He sensed it in my eyes and responded to it.
"That is not a sacrifice to me." He insisted. "Because my pleasure doesn't exist without yours."
I had to look away.
It was hard for me to accept there were motives for sex beyond having a family, but Emmett and the others I was around insisted on sex for pleasure… and I was being seduced by the idea.
"You're supposed to like it." He said then edited and clarified his statement. "No, I mean… You're not supposed to like what I tell you to like… but… it's my responsibility as your partner to make sure you enjoy sex, to make sure I please you… or create a space where you can find pleasure. It's not supposed to be… miserable."
He spoke of such matters innocently and I squirmed in his arms, uncomfortable again.
"You're supposed to feel safe." He told me, reemphasizing this fact.
My view of intimacy had been so warped by the experiences I had and now, I don't know if I knew how to recognize it at all.
"I know that." I sighed, completely exasperated, embarrassed, and frustrated.
"No, you don't." He brushed my hair off my face slowly.
I swallowed, intimidated by the shift in tone.
"Don't patronize me." I said through tight teeth at an attempt to distance myself.
"That's not what I meant to do." He said with steady eyes. "I just mean to say, no one's shown you any differently."
I nodded, understanding, but not relinquishing.
"I want to make you feel safe. I want to show you love. And… and I want to show you pleasure."
"Well I…" I started, but didn't know how to finish.
If I could blush, I would have. He knew pleasure. He spoke of it with command and capability. My own mind trailed to the climax of the earlier afternoon and my legs started to tingle.
Again.
I wanted it again.
"I want to know what you like… what you want." Emmett told me, and my stomach flipped. "I want to know how to please you."
It made me uncomfortable to have that much power… I didn't know what I liked… what I wanted…
"I…" I stumbled over my words, unable to think clearly.
"I don't know what I like… what I want…" I admitted.
"You do. You just don't know how to ask for it." He told me clearly.
Maybe he was right. I bit on the inside of my cheek, thinking…
"Or… you don't think you should?" He deepened his understanding. "You're still a perfectly fine proper lady…"
I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering how to articulate my wants and needs, and it just mortified me.
It was deep in my programming to deny my desire, to squash it, to let myself be secondary…
Men were the ones that were supposed to know what they wanted, to indulge their desires…
"Ask me for what you want. I'll give it to you." He said, a suggestiveness to his tone that made me shiver.
It intimidated me, but I knew I could ask for this much…
"Kiss me." I told him, and he smiled, dimples framing his grin.
He kissed me, soft, sweet and light. It made me feel safe and cared for, and my body recharged to the present, finding a haven in him.
"I love you." He said against my mouth, and I braided my fingers into his hair, holding him to me.
"I know." I said, and this was the best thing I could say right now.
I did know. I did believe him. I did trust him…
He was pleased, deepening the kiss.
"Put your hands on me." I told him, wanting his touch.
I couldn't help but notice the way his mouth twitched into a smile against mine, evidently amused at my heeding his request to tell him what I wanted.
I wanted him to touch me, and he did.
His hands were like wildfire on my skin, leaving trails of heat on me that melted the icy walls I'd built up in a fortress.
The warmth between us brought the kiss to a boil, and we clutched to one another, hot and desperate.
His mouth moved on to my jaw and neck and I sighed into the air that I'd just barely noticed was black as the deepest night now.
Though the darkness was of no consequence to our vampiric vision, it turned us both into silver slivers of moonlight as we twisted around one another in the snow.
I climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his waist and his fingers closed in fists of fabric.
I started on the buttons at my chest, exposing the lace of my light blue slip dress underneath.
"I want more of you." I begged.
Our lips departed for a moment and Emmett's eyes, a sunset color flooded with red hot desire and his mouth submerged to my jaw and collarbone, deepening…
I shivered.
Before he could register this as reticence and misunderstand, I made myself clear by arching my back into his trailing kisses.
My head was spinning, as he spread his hand over my hip underneath my skirt.
His fingers found the edges of my panties and I couldn't help but melt into him. His other hand slid up my side and cupped my breast edging the fabric over, and I sighed into the icy air.
Emmett's hands and mouth explored my body with reverence and I wanted to be absorbed into his fingers.
The sleeve of my dress and the strap of my slip slid off my shoulder, exposing me to his light, velvet mouth.
My mind was a scramble, and as I looked up into the sky, all I saw was a haze of pleasure in the stars.
His fingers up my skirt got closer to the edge, so my body twitched in an immediate reaction as I listened to my desire to be touched.
He returned to my mouth and I eagerly crushed my lips to his. His tongue swirled around mine before he pulled back to suck my lower lip between his teeth. I inched my hips forward onto him, my body responding.
His fingers up my skirt traced over the edge of my underwear.
His hand on my chest, he replaced to the middle of my ribs to direct me to lie on my back, switching positions with me.
I nodded and bit my lip, feeling exposed and vulnerable as my dress laid open for him once again and his hand remained up my skirt.
The alarm in my mind was almost silent as I was flat on my back under him, and the majority of my focus was locked on him only.
The hand up my skirt traced up and down my center over the fabric of my underthings and I squirmed, exhaling in a whimper of anticipation.
"You want me." It wasn't a question. He stated.
My voice was caught in my throat and my mind was a numb mess as I focused exactly on the location of his fingers.
I wanted them in me.
I just nodded.
He traced his other thumb across my bottom lip from where he sat on his knees atop of me.
I took his thumb into my mouth and he exhaled with unquenchable desire as he brought his remaining fingers to my hair. He hooked his thumb into my mouth, holding me to him with some light pressure on my tongue. Then as he watched... I gave his thumb a little suck.
He was undone then, and I saw the raw pleasure in his eyes.
He was torturing me as the tips of his fingers dove past the fabric, but waited at my center.
I moved my hips so I could feel his fingers. This eagerness pleased him, but he still didn't proceed.
"Please." I breathed, his thumb moving off my tongue and over my bottom lip.
My legs curled up and pronated in anticipation of his touch, but he sat between my knees and lightly pressed them back open.
"Say my name. Tell me what you want." He instructed, his voice low and velvet.
"Emmett, please." I whined.
"Please what?" He insisted I articulate my desire, fire in his eyes.
One of the hardest things I ever had to do was muster enough confidence in my voice for what I was about to say.
Then, finally I said it, and asked for what I wanted.
Warmth flooded my body as he rewarded me and my breath came faster.
"Good girl." He smirked, his fingers and those divine patterns sent my body into another dimension of euphoria.
Then, he took one of my legs over his shoulder and I gasped as he pulled me in, curling his third and fourth finger to beckon me from within.
I crumbled then, the impossible pleasure of climax streaking through my body like a shooting star.
I realized how tightly I'd been holding onto him as I unclenched my fingers at my release.
The blankets of snow enveloped around us, and still pulled us into bed with one another.
I wanted it, but I couldn't say it. I still couldn't tell him I wanted...
I felt the slip of silk over my thighs as he pulled off my underwear, and I bit down on my lip to silence my reaction.
His kisses began at my inner thigh, working his way up. When his destination became clear to me, I couldn't even imagine…
But something in my body, an instinct, wanted it more than I could process.
My thoughts were scrambled and desperate, but it was a controlled burn like a candle and a flame. Nonetheless, I melted, begging him for something that had never crossed my mind before.
His... mouth...
Damn.
While his left hand was occupied, his right hand traced over my curves.
His fingers stopped their patterns, and I squirmed with anticipation of his tongue.
My body was still trembling from the last high. This, I couldn't imagine.
He peeled open my legs to give him better access, and before he ducked his head, there was a lopsided, assured smirk on his face that was seared into my memory.
The next moment would be too.
"Holy-" I whined at the contact.
Immediately, I transcended into another plane of existence. My limbs felt so light they could've floated away. My breath got more rapid in time with the pleasure pulsing through my veins.
I was trembling, and ecstasy was begging to swallow me once more as he proceeded.
"Again for me, Rose..." He demanded my release before returning to his task.
I sang his name then, braiding my fingers into his hair, my back arching into the stars with the glow of euphoria as he reshaped my experiences of physical intimacy and built me back from the rubble I once was.