7. When I Grow Up

by Fever Ray

It had only been a couple of days since Rosalie had left Edward laughing in the parking lot, she had asked him a question she thought was just as outrageous as his. She still smiled when she thought about the way he laughed. She had tried to paint it, the way he looked, the way he sounded, she just couldn't do it justice.

Rosalie didn't notice it herself, however, people who didn't knew her did. She walked a little taller, looked a bit happier and her eyes didn't shift as much. Of course, this caused a lot - especially women - to say that she was getting even more full of herself. Nevertheless, Rosalie's smile instantly fell as she walked into the art building and saw Edward standing where she had first seen him. He looked as if he would welcome a headache with open arms.

Her entire face morphed into worry, a sharp contrast to the blank expression she usually tried to keep to hide her nerves. The hem of her t-shirt was fried from her plucking and twisting fingers, but most didn't notice details as that one. Her black t-shirt was the one she had been wearing during their very colorful abstract art class. Every now and then, Rosalie had swiped the bright colors she had been using over the t-shirt - sometimes with her fingers - and there were dots of colors that had landed on the material as she grew more emotional while painting. The shirt was a mess and she loved it. However, her shirt was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

Rosalie didn't even hesitate as she moved closer to him, she was just about to start speaking when Alice called out from the distance, yelling for her to hurry up. Something about the class having been moved to a building across the campus. She still stopped in front of him for the first time, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest. "Are you okay?"

Usually, Edward's eyes said so much about his feelings… usually, he looked so… full of life. Now he seemed barely present.

Edward tried a smile, not surprise at the fact that he was suddenly breathing easier. "Dying grandfather," he stated as evenly as he could, swallowing hard.

Rosalie's hand curled around the fabric of her shirt, but not out of nerves but of uncertainty. She wanted to touch him, comfort him in any way possible. But she was just a random girl in the art building. Searching his now pained eyes, she almost felt her own tearing up. "I'm so sorry."

Alice called out for her to hurry her ass along but was unable to break the eye contact between Rosalie and her stranger.

They just stared at each other, both battling the urge to just… closer. It was a mutual thought.

Then a girl screeched Edward's name and Rosalie jumped back, her whole heart in her words as she whispered, "I'm so sorry." And then she left, not seeing him stopping his hand just as it was about to touch her arm. What Rosalie did was to hear the loud woman's voice as she actually cooed over Edward behind her, her laughter just as shrill as her voice.

She didn't answer Alice's questioning gaze, she just kept moving with her heart and soul dripping to the floor behind her.