I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to
When I'm lying close to someone else
You're stuck in my head and
I can't get you out of it
If I could do it all again
I know I'd go back to you
She shows up to Bella's house in a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt stained with black splotches of oil. Honestly, she doesn't think anything of it until Charlie opens the door and looks down at her on the step.
He scratches the top of his head, moustache twitching. "You alright, kiddo?" he asks in that sort of cop mixed with a papa bear way of his.
It makes Rosalie wish her father hadn't been such a garbage person. That there was any shred of pure, unselfish love in her house, growing up.
She looks down at her clothes, wonders if she had originally grabbed shoes before she left and lost them somewhere along the way, or if she had really been so distracted that she forgot them altogether. She can't remember anything other than staring at the tickets clutched in her hand, and looks back up at Charlie. "Yes, I'm fine."
One might naturally expect her to further elaborate on the situation, as out of the norm as it is, but only if one hadn't known Bella as well as Charlie does. Used to it by now, he simply shrugs and nods. "Want me to grab the kid for ya?"
"If you would be so kind, Chief." Rosalie inclines her head.
She listens to him mutter about Cullens and their weird manners. Like talking to the freaking Queen. "Bells! Visitor!"
Rosalie grimaces at the noise and looks back down at the tickets again-
"Oof!"
She jumps very slightly, looking up in mild alarm on the other side of the porch. Leaves still float to the ground, where Bella sits up and pats her ribs. "Did you just fall off this roof?"
"I didn't not fall off this roof," Bella agrees and hoists herself to her feet. She's in a tank top again, pale skin creamy white in the moonlight, marked by the dark ink of her tattoos. "Was gonna try to scare you."
"Bella!" Charlie shouts in the house. "Door! C'mon!"
"I'm-!" She shakes her head and laughs, vaulting over the railing of the porch to knock on the front window. Inside, Charlie jumps this time. "I'm here, I got it, thank you."
"You're a trainwreck," Rosalie mutters, mostly to herself. She's mated to a trainwreck. She's falling in love with a goddamn trainwreck.
Dark eyes wander back over to her, an eyebrow raised in challenge. "And where are your shoes, Miss High And Mighty?"
"This was a choice," Rosalie tells her. "A conscious decision that I made because I don't need shoes."
"I also chose to scare you."
"Did you choose to fall off your house?"
"I - okay, you. This, this is a weird way to go about asking me to the dance," Bella says in the end. She nods to the tickets being mashed in Rosalie's fist.
"My door-"
Bella perks up. "Was replaced!"
"By a monstrosity that I have to remind myself every day not to physically fight. That door devours the souls of small children, Bella."
The wolf snorts, a surprised laugh torn from her chest. "God, I love… you have a good sense of humour, I'm glad."
The butterflies in Rosalie's stomach threaten to fly off with her. She licks her lips and looks down at the tickets. "Must I ask?"
"Such pride," Bella sighs softly. Her dark eyes dance with, well, with affection Rosalie would say if she wasn't in as much denial as she is. Bella approaches cautiously, still not entirely convinced Rosalie isn't always about to strangle her. Fury and indignation glow in those golden eyes more often than not.
Honestly, it's part of the reason Bella can't look away. She finds this vampire particularly breathtaking.
Rosalie bristles when she feels the heat of Bella on her skin. She watches closely, turning her head as Bella circles around. "What are you doing?"
"Mapping," the wolf murmurs thoughtfully. Rosalie turns her head the other way to catch those eyes again. "Well?"
"What?"
"Are you going to ask?" Bella chuckles. Rosalie lifts her chin and she relents. "Fine, fine. Be that way. I think Mike was planning to ask me tomorrow-"
A pale hand strikes like lightning, snapping around Bella's wrist gently but firmly. "You cannot go with him!" she growls furiously.
"I can do whatever I want," Bella snarls, well and truly snarls. Her own righteous anger spikes in those eyes, the pulse beneath Rosalie's fingertips jumping erratically. Anger, the likes of which Rosalie only caught a glimpse of once before. Bella sucks in a jagged breath, and lets it out slowly. Calmly. "It's my choice," she says softer this time, and repeats it to herself under her breath. "It's my choice."
Rosalie lets her wrist fall, her face smoothing out into concern. She's seen that look before, a version of it, at least. It has her stepping back, lowering her gaze to her feet. "I… apologize. Please don't go with him."
"He hasn't asked yet," Bella says to the floor of the porch. "Nobody has."
There's a pointed look at her and Rosalie groans quietly. "Bella, would you… consider going to this irrelevant high school event with me?"
"Yes!" she gasps happily, throwing her hands in the air. "A thousand times yes! Dad!" Bella steps back to bang on the front door and Rosalie perks up in alarm. "You have to ask my dad permission as well, this is my first dance."
"Wait, Bella, you're not serious-"
"Dad, come out here! Hale needs to ask you something!" Bella shouts. "Of course I'm serious, I'm his only daughter."
Rosalie jerks forward, hand on her forehead. "Bella, I'm not - Chief," she greets through clenched teeth.
He looks just as confused as her. "What's goin' on here? Everything good?"
"Better than good, father of mine. Papa Swan. Mine own blood, head of the house, big man on campus-"
Charlie holds up his hand and looks at the vampire. "Why's she being weird? What'd you do? Why does she always drag me into it?"
"I have…" Rosalie simply shrugs and sighs. "No idea."
And she hates that she's actually not certain if people still ask fathers for their permission to court their daughters. Television is mostly how she keeps up to date on the ever-evolving culture of society, but in this regard it is unreliable. Half the shows would have the boy ask the father, and half promote the idea that only the daughter has a say.
Bella could fall under either category. A strong, independent girl who doesn't let anybody tell her what to do… but a girl who values her father's opinion above all else.
Rosalie clenches her jaw, studying the wolf's face with narrowed eyes. Bella only grins, and Rosalie sighs deeply. "Chief Swan."
"Cullen?" he replies when she says nothing else. Looks between the two curiously.
Rosalie glares at Bella as she asks. "I would like your blessing to take your daughter to the school dance."
A lightbulb goes off above his head and his hands come up to rest on his hips. "You wanna take my kid to the dance? You?"
"...Please," she grinds out as patiently as she can.
Charlie nods and scoffs. "Isabella Marie Swan, are you gay?"
And golden eyes snap wide open, Rosalie jerking forward and holding up her hand because, no. No, no. Bella did not just use her to come out to her father.
But Charlie snorts and breaks. "Ah, shoot! I couldn't hold it. Did ya see her face, Bells?"
The wolf is starting to make a lot more sense and Rosalie wants to die.
Again.
He slaps her on her shoulder, grunting in surprise at how solid it is. "Just givin' ya a hard time, Cullen. 'Course you can take her, the kid's crazy about ya. Won't stop talking about you and how ya-"
Bella's hands snap over his mouth, dark eyes frantic. "Who won't stop talking now, huh?! Ignore him, he - actually, this man is insane. Very unstable, I should get him back inside."
Rosalie watches as Bella all but shoves her father back inside the house, listening to him snicker the whole way. She raises an eyebrow when Bella turns back to her, cheeks on fire, and decides she likes Bella with her feathers ruffled. A lot. God, it's cute, even.
"I detest you," she tells the girl.
Who merely snorts and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I got that when you ran me over with your car."
"You were never under my car. At most, I hit you with it." She lifts her chin. "And you were being vexatious."
"Not even gonna pretend I know what that word means."
"Annoying."
Bella snaps her fingers. "Ah, should have taken the guess." She wanders down the porch, towards the corner of the house, and hoists herself up onto the railing. Rosalie hesitates a moment before joining her, leaning against it a few feet away. "So why the change of heart?"
"You'll have to be more specific, I'm not Edward."
Again, Bella looks a little confused but overall cheerful. "I'm not sure what that means, either. I meant, you went from hitting me with your car to asking me to the dance. I'm just wondering what changed."
Ah, yes. A question Rosalie was hoping the wolf wouldn't think of, or at least not bother to ask. Of course she would. She was born to get under Rosalie's skin, there wasn't a soul more skilled at it. Still, despite knowing she should have prepared for it, Rosalie didn't. Honestly, it isn't a question she wants to answer, nor does she think it deserves one.
What does it matter, in the end? She did change her mind. She does like Bella now.
Maybe she fears the truth. "My heart remains unchanged."
There was never a time she didn't like Bella, if she's being truly honest. Yes, her mind changed, but her heart did not. She simply decided to take a chance for the first time in decades.
She can see the gears turning in Bella's head, and leans back to look up at the night sky. Splotches of stars shine through gaps in the clouds. "Why did you change yours?"
"Me?" Bella echoes.
Rosalie hums and nods. "You ignored us the first week, scowled the second, and started… poking during the third."
"That wasn't me the other times, I've only ever tried to seduce you, Hale."
The railing cracks under her fingers as she chokes on a surprised laugh. "Seduce me?"
"You can't blame me for not being good at it," Bella says around a chuckle. "I don't have much experience."
Rosalie relents and nods, switching to stare down at the porch instead. She waits to see if Bella will continue, if she'll answer her question on her own. The silence is very telling, and part of Rosalie wants to leave her be. She doesn't want to push Bella, she can appreciate privacy.
But her family is involved. Her family will always be involved in her life, and… and Jasper was right. Alice, all of them, they come first. Always. Before her and her selfish desires.
"In what way was it not you?" she asks.
Bella sighs on the railing, shrinking in on herself to hold her cheeks in her hands. "You don't know much about the pack," she says or maybe informs her. Rosalie shakes her head anyway. Those dark eyes fall away, the shadow of the night creeping across Bella's face. "His biases are my biases. His hate, my hate. His rage, my rage. What you saw before, that wasn't me…" she shrugs dejectedly and smiles somewhat sadly at Rosalie. "It was him."
"I-"
Bella clears her throat and hops down from the railing, rubbing her hands together. "Anyway. I think we're both just bad at… being regular people?"
A scoff. "Some more than others."
"I'll take that." Bella grins. Her eyes lift back to Rosalie and some little poetic part of her prays that they never leave. She very quickly suffocates the thought. "Are you wearing a dress or a suit? Or another tantalising pair of sweatpants?"
For the first time in her life, Rosalie has no comeback. No sarcastic retort, or witty line. "Forget you," she sighs with upturned lips. "I was in a hurry."
"A hurry to ask me out."
"To the dance. Because I'm being dragged there and I refuse to go stag. And you owe me."
Bella shakes her head. "Excuses, excuses. Too scared to admit you adore me."
"You wish."
"Sometimes." She lifts an eyebrow. "You wanna match colour schemes or not?"
"You sound like Alice," Rosalie frowns. "Since when do you care about colour schemes?"
Bella scoffs this time, holds up her arms. "Excuse me? Do you think my outfits happen by accident?"
"You look like a pack of highlighters vomited on you and then you tried to hide it with black, more often than not."
Bella clutches her heart. "Ouch, right for the jugular. It's called pastel punk, look into it. Because I look smokin'."
"Green, you gigantic dork. I'm wearing green."
She takes a moment to mentally store away the information, and nods. Rosalie looks out to the trees, threatening to get lost in the lull of conversation. Their night is coming to an end, both can feel it. Unfortunately, neither can hide out on the porch forever.
Rosalie sighs softly, knocks her knuckles on the wooden railing, and looks back up at Bella. "I have to leave."
"I'm a fool."
She smiles, soft and gentle, the warmest Bella has ever seen her face. Golden eyes swirl before her. "Of this, I have no doubt. Goodnight, Bella."
"Sweet dreams, midnight siren."
…
"You know we don't sleep, ri-"
"Oh, come on, you couldn't let me have that one? You know I'm trying to seduce you, now."
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"Do you think she'll wear a dress?"
It's a typical day in the cemented routine of the Cullen life, the 'kids' trapped inside on a rare sunny day, having just gone hunting the day before. Emmett and Jasper sit on the floor in front of the couch, furiously mashing buttons on their game controllers. Edward taps at a few keys on the piano while he stares dreamily at his boyfriend, Alice upside down on the couch and tapping on her phone. Rosalie sits in the corner under the lamp, book in hand, and doesn't spare a glance up.
"No."
The pixie pouts but also doesn't look away from her phone. "No? Why not?"
"She's not the type," Rosalie tells her. And then considers it, with furrowed brows. "Although, she is the type to wear one just to spite me and my assumptions. Unless, of course, she also considered me coming to this conclusion. Hmm. I'm not sure, Alice, sorry."
"She's not wearing a dress," Esme calls from her studio upstairs. All the children look up and wait. "She sent me a picture of her tie, asking if the shade of green matched Rosalie's outfit."
Alice lifts a finger, though in her position it points to the floor instead of the ceiling. "Unless she's wearing a tie with a dress!"
"What does it matter?"
"Dresses are fun and pretty."
"To you."
"Yes."
Rosalie blinks. "You are not everyone, why does it matter if someone else is wearing a dress or not."
"My perception of the world filters what I see, Rose," Alice says. "It would bring me personal joy to see everyone in a dress."
A golden brow lifts. "Even Emmett?"
"Especially Emmett!"
The boy lifts an arm to flex his sculpted muscles and Edward misses a key in his song. "Damn straight, Tink!" He glances back with a wicked grin, just in time to see Edward duck his head, and looks over to Rosalie instead. "So, how'd you ask? Was it romantic?"
"Oh, oh! Yes! Was it super romantic? You went late at night, with the moon shining high, like a fairy tale!" Alice gasps and clutches her chest.
Rosalie rolls her eyes. "It was overcast, as it always is, and she fell off the roof."
"Because of you?"
She glares over at Edward. "Are you accusing me of pushing her off a roof?"
"No," his eyebrows shoot up and lips curve into a smile, "though it's interesting your mind went there. As if, perhaps, you've considered it. I was merely asking if the sight of you asking her to the dance caused her to swoon so severely she fell right over… off the roof."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Rosalie scrounges up all of her patience. "What is this, the forties? Do you think women go around fanning themselves, lest they succumb to a tizzy, and collapse at the mere mention of romance?"
"It would not be the first time your beauty caused… distress," Jasper points out while he glares down at his controller, trying to make his character jump. "This blasted-! Why?! Why can't I jump? Foolish, juvenile, infuriating little contraption!"
Emmett snorts and pushes a button for him. "Relax, grandpa." He rubs his chin, turning back to the rest of the room with a thoughtful look on his face. "You remember that one guy? I wanna say it was the late sixties, maybe early seventies. He had that wild hair, and you gave him a heart attack?"
Even up in her studio, the others hear Esme bark out a laugh. Rosalie scowls. "It wasn't a heart attack, it was a… murmur, and he was very obese."
"What about that other boy who fell down the flight of stairs?" Alice points out.
Edward perks up. "The professor who caught his blazer on fire?"
"The woman who hit a fire hydrant!"
"The worker who fell off the scaffolding."
"The other woman who rear-ended the first woman and the fire hydrant!"
"Bella, who fell off a roof!"
Rosalie holds up her hand with a stormy look. "Enough! I get it, enough! That has nothing to do with whimsical fairy tales, and everything to do with hormonal stupidity."
"Even Bella?"
Alice flips up to her feet in time to dodge the book that is hurtled her way. "We're merely friends going to a school function together."
Both Emmett and Alice pout, visibly. "No, don't tell me you're back on the denial train…"
"She worries Bella isn't interested," Edward corrects. "She doesn't doubt her own feelings."
The bench is yanked out from under him, both it and Rosalie disappearing up in her room, with the slam of a door.
A most hideous door.
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Despite all of their teasing, come the actual day of the dance, Rosalie's siblings are mercifully quiet. Or busy. Probably busy, the bunch of assholes. Still, peace is peace, no matter the cause, and Rosalie takes the opportunity to have a mini-meltdown in her room because apparently she is not an immortal being well on her way to being a century old, and she is, in fact, a ridiculous schoolgirl with a huge crush.
And she's so nervous she can't even be embarrassed by the fact, she's too busy hugging her biggest pillow as tight as she dares. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" she mutters into it.
She's going to a dance. A school dance. With a girl she asked.
If you had told her this just one year ago, she would have laughed. Actually, she probably would have thrown you through a wall, but still.
And now? Now look at her, glaring holes into the dress laid out on her bed, willing it to catch fire and give her an excuse not to go. Like some kind of child.
There's a knock on her door and she bristles, looks up from her pillow. There are only two people willing to knock on her door (well, and also one willing to "knock" with a baseball bat), and she knows Alice is probably a tornado of fashion in her own room.
Esme smiles at her through the crack Rosalie opens the door, simply beaming from ear to ear. She lifts what looks like a flower. "I have something for my youngest daughter, if that's alright with you."
It's mostly not, everything about this request. From the unknown plant in her hands, to the intrusion she's requesting of Rosalie's room, all the way to yet another thing she has to think about tonight.
But saying no to Esme is like… well, she's just never met anyone capable of it, to be quite honest. So she sighs and steps aside, twitching when Esme crosses the threshold of her room. She watches Esme hum over her dress, reaching down to pinch the fabric between her fingers, and turn to face her.
Esme holds up the flower again. "Alice drew me a picture of you in your dress, as I'm certain you won't stay still for any pictures." Rosalie blinks. "Right, so I went searching for this. I wore a dress on mine and Carlisle's first date, the colours identical, and he had brought me this flower."
It's a fake, obviously, but in mint condition. Not surprising, considering its sentimental value and the fact that nothing withers in Esme's care.
"It was a sort of… joke. A flower that will never die on its own," Esme explains with a soft smile. "Kind of like us. Anyway, I know this is probably terribly silly, but I thought maybe you would want to wear it? Alice and Jasper were already together when they joined us, and Edward was very secretive about Emmett at first."
With another sigh, Rosalie wanders closer, her arms crossed tightly. She stares down at it in Esme's hands. "I'm not really the flower type..."
"It's silly, I'm sorry. You don't have to wear it."
She turns to leave but Rosalie holds her hand up in her path, a scowl on her face. "No, I'm gonna wear it all night. Back off." (1)
And Esme's smile is radiant, full of love and appreciation. "Do you know how to put it in your hair?"
"... damn it. No."
The excited squeal threatens to shatter her windows as Esme blurs around the room to help her get ready.
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"What are you wearing? What are you wearing?! What are you wearing?!"
"Run, Bella, run! You've offended Alice's eyes, run-!"
"What could have possibly compelled you to wear this?!" Alice demands and Rosalie can't help but grin as she descends the staircase.
By the time she gets down the stairs, Jasper has his hands clamped on his wife's shoulders, a look of pure concentration on his face. Alice takes a deep breath and Rosalie rolls her eyes, looking to see what all the fuss is about. She snorts when she finds it, finds Bella in a pair of black jeans and a tuxedo t-shirt, looking all too sheepish, rubbing at her tattoos.
Bella's eyes widen upon seeing Rosalie and the vampire is delighted at the blush that creeps across her face. "Fuck," her graceless mate says sharply and she feels the flutters again. "I did look better, I promise. I had a tie and everything - you, I - I wear bow ties casually!"
"What. Happened." Alice seems to be scrounging up every ounce of her patience that she can.
And Bella ducks her head. "I… I got upset."
"Upset?"
"...And threw it all out the window."
Everyone looks outside at the storm. "You ruined your whole wardrobe?"
"Not all of it!" Bella holds up her arms earnestly, eyes wide and so… innocent? Rosalie clenches her jaw and looks back at Alice.
"Why?" the pixie bemoans.
Bella shrugs and looks away. "Little stressed."
This time Rosalie steps forward, a light frown on her face. "You're not obligated to go if it's bothering-"
"No! I want to go with you! I'm not passing this up for anything. Sam's just an asshole and it took me off guard. I don't know why, considering he's always an asshole." She laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair, looking back at Rosalie again. "You look really, really pretty."
Tender. Tender. How is she so tender?
"You're a disaster," Rosalie replies.
There's a disapproving tsk from Esme but Bella grins happily. "A disaster for you."
"Awww!"
"God," Rosalie scoffs and shakes her head, "let's get this over with."
Edward chuckles and swings his keys by the keyring. "Who's riding with us?"
"Dibs!" Bella gasps half a second before Alice, and the rest of the room stares at the pixie in surprise.
Alice blinks. "I thought I had more time, I didn't see it coming…"
Oblivious to the reaction of the rest of the room, Bella turns to Rosalie and holds up her hand for a high five. "Whooop! I rode my bike, my pants are still soggy. We need a ride, babe!"
Rosalie sighs and turns to Edward. Edward, who twitches his eyebrows up and she knows exactly what he's pointing out. But now's not the time to dwell on babe like some whimsical teenager. "Where are the keys to the Rolls?"
He looks at Alice. "You took it out last, didn't you?"
"I put the keys back on the wall!"
Again, everyone turns to the large board just inside the door, and Bella marvels at the dozens of hanging keys. "Damn!"
The spot for Rosalie's Rolls Royce is very vacant and she sucks on her teeth. "Where did you have them last, Alice?"
"Here! I didn't - are you really - I didn't lose them," Alice huffs with a stern look. "If Bella wasn't here, I could find them and prove it."
"Ouch."
"Not-!" Alice grabs her arm with an alarmed look. "Not like that! You affect my visions, that's all."
"Oh, okay. Wait. Wait. What?!"
Rosalie crosses her arms. "Well, who had them last?"
The front door swings open with a crack of thunder and lightning, smacking the wall and making everything in the front foyer shake. Emmett shoulders in, kicking the door shut behind him, holding his dark coat over himself to protect from the rain. He shakes the water off of it, bending down to quickly snatch up all the keys that fell from the board.
Kill Bill sirens go off in Rosalie's head as she watches him randomly and haphazardly hook keys back in any open space. Emmett looks up at everyone else. "Sup, guys? I brought the Volvo and Rolls around the front, I don't think we'll all fit in one car."
Edward staggers forward in Rosalie's path when she takes a step. "He's your best friend and I love him!" he gasps quietly, with wide eyes.
Rosalie grinds her teeth, glaring daggers at Emmett who shrinks back in confusion. "Emmett, there's an order to-"
"Rosalie," Esme murmurs at the sharp tone in the blonde's voice. "He didn't mean to."
She considers this. Watches Emmett look back at the board, and the light bulb go off. He sheepishly grabs a few keyrings and swaps them into their rightful places. "It's fine, Emmett. I'll fix it later," she says slowly.
He sets the last keyring down on the counter gingerly and nods. "Sorry, Rosie. I didn't even think to check." His golden eyes roam the foyer until they land on Bella and light up. "Hey! I was gonna wear that shirt, too! Alice found a stuffy, monkey suit for me though."
Emmett opens his coat to reveal the dark, midnight blue suit beneath. Thin-cut, like he and it were carved out of marble, looking like he belongs in a magazine and not in the hallway. His rebellious, curly hair is styled down, looking more like Clark Kent, and Edward shifts from foot to foot beside Bella.
The wolf looks at the boy beside her and grins. "You're so gay," she whispers.
"I'm dating Eros," he replies with a shake of his head and Bella nods agreeably.
It's not the first time people had compared the Cullens to Olympians. Adonis, Eros, Aphrodite, one of the Muses, Atlas, she'd heard it all many times. All it does is make her wonder. Why she's here, why they chose her, what they want from her.
All it does it fuel the claims Sam snarls at her every night.
All it does is leave her sitting in the bathtub, dissociating and lost, until Charlie finds her and drags her down to the couch to catch a game until words return to her again.
But yeah, they're pretty, and it's nice to know they think the same about each other.
Fingers brush against her arm, Bella's attention dragged down to the pixie beside her. She raises a curious eyebrow, watching Alice big golden eyes crinkle with concern. Concern for her, for a wolf. "Are you alright?" she whispers.
And Bella nods in a choppy motion, even as her eyes sting with tears. Inexplicable tears, and fuck Sam. "Sure, kitten," she agrees and flashes her best smile.
"You know," Emmett drawls by the door. "Carlisle called Rosalie kitten for a wh-oh shit!" he ducks under the table stand thrown at him.
Esme is behind him, catching it a moment before it can smash against the door. "That's two weeks without television for you, Emmett, including your video games. And a two-week ban from the garage for you, Rosalie."
Rosalie takes Bella's hand wordlessly, stalking passed her brother with a glare. "You're back on the list."
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Guest1, I'd rather you not waste your breath trying to tell me what to do with my writing.
Guest2, you rock, amigo.
1 - Bob's Burgers.
