Author Note: I am just starting college at Georgia Institute of Technology and my major is in mechanical engineering. This little fact is my excuse for the slow updates in the future. I am writing multiple chapters at a time before I update so that my lovely readers can be busy with something while I am working on Calculus and Physics.

This story has been playing in the back of my head for a few weeks and needs to be written. My sincere appreciation goes out to the amazing XxXRoseVixenXxX, who is currently writing a wonderful Esme/Carlisle fiction, for making me commit to a story and stop with all those OneShots.

The mature rating is due to the upcoming rape scene and a few lemons that are sure to come when you are dealing with Emmett and Rosalie.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this story that you recognize from the Twilight Saga. The story idea and extra characters are mine.

Picture Perfect

I walked quickly through the streets of Rochester, my stilettos clicking with every step. My white organza flowed silkily around my ankles and I rushed to give my father his lunch at the bank. My blonde hair had been rolled up and now lay in tight waves to my shoulder. At first my mom's order to wear my nice organza and roll my hair had seemed peculiar; however, the more eyes that followed me to the bank, the happier I became that I had taken the time to fulfill her request.

I walked into the bank filled with men of respectable social caliber staring at me; I let out a breezy laugh. Whoever said beauty wasn't everything was surely an imbecile. I could have any man in this bank that I wanted to create a family like Vera's and only because I was gorgeous. One brave man, a balding and older Mr. Jenkins, introduced himself with a bow in front of me; I walked away without a remark. Beauty is everything.

I crossed the marble foyer to my father's office. The imposing wooden door was open so I walked in. My father was behind his desk, but he was not alone. I hesitated for a moment, "I haven't interrupted anything, father?"

A smile broke across my father's round face and he chuckled. "No. I was just talking about my beautiful daughter, wasn't I Mr. King?"

I looked at the other man in the room and was shocked not to find my father's fat boss, Mr. King; but, a young and very attractive man only a few years older than myself. His hair was lighter than my own was kept neatly. His blue eyes were like the afternoon sky, a pale blue that was endless. He stood and crossed to the door then he bowed and kissed my hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Your father speaks very highly of you; however, your exquisiteness he failed to adequately describe."

"Thank you, Mr. King." I curtsied. I took the opportunity to appreciate the stature of the young, Mr. King. He was taller than me and his shoulders were wide with muscle. My gaze lingered a moment too long, but was broken when he spoke again.

"A woman as pretty as you may call me Royce," he smiled.

"Thank you, Royce," I amended.

"Oh! I brought your lunch, father."I passed by Royce, shoving him off a little like I had the balding guy earlier, and crossed to my father's desk. "Mother said dinner will be served at six and we are dinning with the Brown's tonight."

I kissed his dimpled cheek and rushed out of the bank to return to home. I wanted to visit with Vera and I had very little time until I had to dress for the dinner tonight. I moved swiftly through the familiar streets of Rochester. Vera's new home was much smaller than my own, as she had married a carpenter. I crossed the small front lawn and knocked at the door. I heard the wail of a young baby and felt a peculiar emotion pass through me.

Vera answered the door, her curly hair acted as a messy halo around her porcelain doll featured face. Her face broke out into a smile as she realized that I had come for a visit. "Rose! What a surprise. Come in, I was just putting Richie down for a nap."

The strange emotion stirred in my heart with the mention of her newly born child, I shook it away and walked into the humble home. I followed Vera's quick walk up the narrow stairs into a brightly painted room. The wailing babe lay in the crib, his thick black curls mirroring his mother's as she reached into the basinet to pick him up.

For a moment the small house and the screaming baby felt justified. I knew that I would hate Vera if she lived in a house matching mine in grandeur with the beautiful boy lying in a large crib made of sturdy oak. Part of me still disliked Vera and her Richie even if her house was a quarter the size of my own. I never once felt this disdain for my very closest friend; it made me extremely uncomfortable.

Vera rocked the baby back and forth and the cries began to die down. She hummed gently and old tune my mother once sang to me. The baby closed his eyes and she rocked him a few more times before placing him in the basinet. She led me out of the room and quietly shut the door behind us. "How about some tea?" she whispered to me.

"Actually, I ought to be headed home. I am having dinner with Roy Brown," I lied. I hated this new emotion I felt in the pit of my stomach; I had to get away from it.

Vera frowned with disappointment; but, quickly smiled, "The Roy Brown the jeweler with emerald eyes of his own?"

"Yes!" her excitement was contagious and I could not help the smile that crossed my face as we walked down the stairs. She walked with me to the road and we chatted about the possibility of Mrs. Rosalie Brown. I waved to her as I began the quick walk home, a smile on my face and the afternoon's jealousy erased.

I got home with two hours to spare before the dinner. My mother was busy herding my brothers to bathe that she missed my entrance. It was very rare that I pass unnoticed; however, I was so busy with my thoughts of what Charles Brown would look like that I didn't mind being overlooked just this once.

I walked into my room picturing a little boy with rosy cheeks running in my vast snowy yard. His blonde hair parted to the side and neatly kept and his eyes the violet color of my own. I sighed with want and opened my wardrobe. I found my favorite dress and placed it on my bed. As I began to take off the silky organza I wore, a bouquet of roses caught my eye.

I lifted them to face, the fresh and faintly sweet smell filled my nose as the soft petals caressed my face. I cradled them in my arms and grabbed the note in between the stems of the freshly cut flowers. I set the flowers on my writing desk and read the letter.

Rosalie,

I hope you remember me; because, I cannot forget your beautiful presence. I hope to see you again.

Royce King II

I smiled to myself recalling the handsome man at the bank. I set the note next to my roses on the desk. I slipped into the blue halter neck evening gown made of satin and began to prepare for the night's dinner. I rolled my hair and painted my face, lightly, while thinking of Royce. He was my prince and I was ready to become his princess.

A knock echoed through the house as I began to work on the finishing touches in preparation for the dinner. I could hear our butler welcoming our dinner guests. My father and mother started down the stairs as a cue for my brothers and me to follow. My brothers in their finest suits looked very handsome and considerably less embarrassing as they did earlier with mud and grass staining their knickers.

I entered the dining room last and sat next to the youngest of our three dinner guests. However, where Roy Brown should have been seated with his parents next to his side was Royce King II and his beautiful mother and unattractive father. I smiled as if this were no surprise to me and greeted them warmly to my home.

The dinner went along without any problems. I spoke with Royce and found him more charming than anyone I've ever met. Unlike his father, he spoke of more than banking. He told me of his visits to Paris and his love for the French Operas. As he spoke, I found myself laughing easily and enjoying his company. After dinner, we escaped to the yard for a walk under the moonlight. We walked through the gardens as he described the streets of Paris and the beauty of the city. He suddenly stopped talking and looked at me.

"The stars make you glow in the night. All I can see is your beauty and your eyes, like violets, are dancing." He leaned toward me. The magical night made everything seem perfect, so I let him kiss me. His warm lips were soft against mine, but the kiss swept me off my feet. I felt the kiss rushing through my veins. I pulled away, terrified of being seen, "Mother will be worried, we should return to the house."

He held out his elbow and I wrapped my arm around it as we walked up to the house. As we approached my home, he released my arm and opened the door for me. Our parents sat in the great room discussing bank matters and my brothers were stomping around somewhere upstairs. As we entered, the room hushed.

"Well, it is getting late," Mrs. King announced. Mr. King rose and held out a hand to her, she accepted the help and stood next to him. Mrs. King nodded to my mother, "This has been simply wonderful, thank you Mrs. Hale for your hospitality. I assure you we will visit again."

"Thank you, Mrs. King. I hope you get home safe," my mother smiled.

"I had a wonderful night, Rosalie." Royce whispered into my ear, causing goose bumps to cover my skin. Without another word, the King's were gone and the night was over. I bathed and went to bed with visions of fair-haired children playing in the vast King estate.

--

During the next few weeks, I felt like I was dreaming. I woke up to the delivery of a bouquet of roses and violets each day. He spent his days at work and I spent my afternoons buying new dresses for the evening party or dance that Royce would sweep me away to. He always held me on his arm as if afraid to let go of me. We lived in the adoration of our peers. My handsome prince gave me everything I had ever dreamed of, yet I wanted more.

After six weeks of this easy lifestyle, Royce took me to a ball on the outskirts of Rochester. We were announced as we entered the grand stairwell of the Chaplain's mansion. The marble staircase looked much like the Brown's, the Kelley's, and the Hall's and the ironwork resembled that in my home. The nightly parties blurred in my head as I tried to picture what I wore last time I attended a Chaplain Ball. I decided that I had worn a shade of green at the last party and that my current red gown was acceptable.

Everyone stared in awe at Royce and me as we floated down the stairs. Royce stopped our process down the stairs halfway down. I hesitated and stopped confused on the middle stair. I smiled as if I knew what was happening. Royce bent down on one knee before me and pulled a small box out of his jacket.

"I am crazy about you, Rose. Marry me, please?" The air stood still as if everyone in the room stopped breathing in an effort to be silent. He opened the small box and the largest diamond I had ever seen was set in a gold ring. I felt myself draw in a quick gasp of air. I could feel the room spinning. He proposed to me!

"I will!" I almost yelled. Royce placed the ring on my third finger and I could feel my left hand drop with the weight. He grabbed me a carried me down the stairs into the chorus of cheers and thunder of applause. It was in this moment that I knew my life was perfect.