Author's Note: I know, I usually don't do an author's note before the chapter begins, but I wanted to specifically warn you that this chapter we get into some very dark areas. If it's too much for you, just don't read any further. It may be disgusting, horrifying, I'm not even sure, but you have been warned. If you find yourself feeling down after this chapter I suggest watching a heartwarming movie and drinking hot cocoa with a nice blanket to keep you comfortable. But if you're totally into twisted drama, Cruel Intentions and New Best Friend are excellent films too.
So the moral of the story is don't blame me afterwards and say I didn't tell you it wasn't going to be very pretty. Thanks for your cooperation.
Oh also, as for everyone's ages, Rose + Jasper are 22, and Ed + Alice are 19. Just thought I'd give you that information. By the way, these four aren't all as friendly with each other as they are normally (in the book series). Just be forewarned that everything's not so chummy as you'd expect.
Murderville
Ever since she had reached puberty, Alice Cullen had attracted a lot of attention from the opposite sex. At first it went mostly unnoticed by her, or if she did notice, she played it off nonchalantly. She felt she was too young to get involved with boys, to the like all the other girls. Her playful nature came off as flirty though, and this only stoked the fires of her would be-suitors.
But then one year, something changed in her.
It was a day she did not like to think about, did not like to remember because it had transformed her completely. Gone was the playfulness. She was more withdrawn, but conversely she was also more amenable to expressions of desire. She went out of her way. She did things she ought not to do. She was repeatedly unfaithful. No one understood it. She didn't even recognize herself any more. She felt trapped, and sex was the only way she could get through to others, make them care about her.
Or so she now thought, anyway.
Thankfully now she had someone who understood that she wasn't perfect.
She snuggled in closer to the man who above all other humans she cared about. No one mattered to her as much as he did, nor would anyone ever come close to meaning as much. All the other people she was with, had been with, she loved none of them. Her love was right here.
They were just watching a movie today, kicking back and relaxing. He had her tucked under his arm with a blanket pulled over their laps. Frequently as her mind wandered she might look at him or play with his hair. He didn't mind even that she was distracting him from his favourite movie. Jasper knew it just wasn't intriguing to her, but she'd agreed to watch it anyway.
He was beginning to find her more interesting than the film also.
"Can't you ever sit still?" he whispered, smirking.
"Not when I'm this close to you," she said coyly, purposefully pressing herself against him.
He knew what she had in mind, and though he never regretted any physical time they spent together, it made him somewhat sad, somewhat confused. Jasper knew what she was like. Why she was always fixated with sex. It made him sad that her mind was so convinced that no good relationship was without an excess of the act. It made him wonder sometimes if that's all she really wanted him for.
It's doubts like these that can really poke at a person and make him bitter.
Still, he let himself be gulled.
He kissed her without really thinking about it, and maneuvered her onto her back on the couch. Her body was soft to his touch as he pushed one hand under the hem of her shirt, palming her right breast. Lowering his mouth, he kissed her neck, hoping that any negative thoughts would go away if he distracted himself further. Yet even as he began to pleasure her, the doubts and his anger made their return.
Fighting the impulse, he managed to get her skirt off.
She pushed her hips up, trying to urge him along, hurry him into it. Whatever he intended before, she would never let him just take it slow with her, love her completely like he so wanted to. Their copulation was eternally rushed, sometimes interrupted, and almost always rough. If he even tried to be sweet with her she'd stop things altogether, like she couldn't stand anyone to be caring to her during sex.
It seemed to illicit a bad response in her, and he though hating the reason for it, understood why. The very first time she'd had sex was not so pleasant for her. So her mind had twisted itself into believing that there was no real thing such as lovemaking.
Her hands were now trying to get him out of his jeans even while he just wanted to touch her for now, kiss her, hold her. Draw things out a little. She was rushing towards satisfaction while he was about ready to snap. He loved her so damn much, but sometimes his love seemed futile.
Sighing with frustration he sat up, leaving a very confused lover to wonder as to why he'd stopped.
"What's wrong?" she murmured.
He shook his head. When he was angry like this, he needed quiet. He never wanted to lash out at her, never wanted her to see that she hurt him on occasion.
"Well I am just guessing, but I'd say it's because you're still making house calls with that Clearwater boy. You know it's not very healthy for a relationship if one of you is constantly sleeping around with other men," said a cool, female voice, sounding both haughty and bemused as she called out Alice.
Rosalie Hale had unbeknownst to them been sitting the whole time on the staircase, watching their sport. It wasn't the first time she had, either. Jasper's twin sister was like a shadow that never went away, and she was never a little ray of sunshine personality-wise. In fact sometimes he wondered if her main goal in life was trying to break him and Alice up for some dastardly reason of her own. Rosalie had just never been fond of her, and he couldn't fathom why.
"Go away," he snarled, glaring at her. He was not in the mood to deal with his sister right now, and if he didn't get a handle on some of this anger he was scared at what he might do.
"Fine," she acquiesced, throwing her hands up. "I was just giving Alice some advice she's too much of a slut to take. You could have picked someone classier, that's all I'm saying."
Rose stood and traipsed up the stairs to her room two at a time. Her brother and her were identical in many ways, their wrath included. She knew he'd really freak out if she poked and prodded him too much, and she'd at least gotten her say. And it was clear to her that no matter how much he snarled at her to leave, he had at least considered her words to the point of being upset.
Her room and more specifically her phone awaited her. Causing trouble was just too much fun, after all, so why stop? The day was still plenty young.
She flopped on her bed and grabbed the cordless, dialing the number of her best friend. It was about time he came to visit her; she could use a little entertainment after all. He was just as fun to manipulate as her brother and his stupid whore girlfriend. Perhaps even better because he was entirely under her control. She could ruin his whole little world if she wanted to, but she hadn't so far. He was too fun to give up also.
"Hello Edward, I do hope you're not busy tonight," she simpered, voicing her invitation. "I was expecting you'd come over for a couple hours or so. You can stay the night if you want to, our parents aren't home." I could really care less if Mother and Father ever came home, she added viciously to herself.
She waited for him to confirm their plans, and was of course, not disappointed in her hopes. He had never been able to say no to her.
"Wonderful, I'll see you in a bit."
It was not too much longer when Edward let himself into the Hale house. The truth was he had not been doing anything at his own home, and so when his best friend---for lack of a better term---had called, he had hurried along without much persuasion. However, he was not prepared for what he was walking into. To get to the stairs and thus the second floor, he had to walk through both the kitchen and the living room. In the latter was the problem.
It shouldn't have been a problem. His friend's brother making out with his girlfriend on the couch. Not usually a big deal unless you knew Edward's innermost thoughts. Feelings.
"Hello Alice," he said as casually as he could muster while walking past them. She didn't even stop to return the greeting.
His mood soured as he hustled upstairs to Rosalie's room.
Rosalie could have easily warned him Alice was over so he wouldn't have to watch them having a go at it. But though his subconscious inevitably knew better, he had no actual reason to suspect his best friend of orchestrating this meeting on purpose. If she told him she didn't do it, he would have to believe her, even if she was lying through her pretty teeth.
"So glad you're here, the other two aren't much company as you've probably noticed," were her first words to him as he entered her bedroom, closing the door behind him tightly.
"I did notice that. Then again it must be hard for her to even manage a hello with your brother's tongue down her throat," he griped, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
Rosalie only permitted herself to laugh on the inside and her face remained sympathetic. Clucking her tongue disapprovingly she put one hand on his shoulder. "Don't pout Edward, it's unattractive. I don't even know what want with her anyway. She's so overused, you know." She went to, kissing his shoulder once before leaning her chin on it instead. He seemed to relax to her touch, and she smiled secretively.
"Don't worry about her," she murmured. "You're not going to be left out. I'd have you any day. You know that, don't you?"
Rosalie was never one to stall.
She hopped up and settled herself directly on his lap, her position leaving no doubt about her intentions. He lazily put both arms around her waist, keeping her where she was. Hungrily he claimed a kiss from her, allowing himself to forget about his pain if only for a moment. She nipped at his lower lip, always her personal signal of affection. She wasn't a frail flower, and so him practically tossing her onto the bed was nothing.
The ripping of her clothes were again, nothing new.
The feeling when their bodies finally joined though, that was something. A start. His rhythm was comfortable, it was slow, accompanied with deep thrusts and his warm tongue curling around her nipple. Her nails digging into his back, screaming "Yes!" as he pushed them both to climax an indeterminable time later. Her loud cry, made even louder with the hope that she'd be heard. Oh how she hope they had heard her downstairs.
She might just come again with vindictive delight if they had. Those two weren't the only ones allowed to have fun today, after all.
Her mood didn't even spoil that much when they lounged beneath the covers post-coitus, his manner towards her sweet and caring to the point of sickness. Rosalie wasn't one for sentiment either, but she let him hold her even until he fell asleep, tired out from the exertion. She simply curled up beside him, gloating in the feeling of imagining herself as a spider who has just caught a large fly in her net.
But like always, she did tend to feel a little rage when he began to moan another girl's name in his sleep. The name of a girl she had hated ever since age seven when that same girl had received a kiss on the cheek from Rosalie's dear twin brother. The same girl who even now was probably fucking that brother on the living room couch. A girl who made Rosalie's heart turn cold with jealousy because she had what could never ever be Rosalie's, not rightfully.
So when Edward started sleep-talking about Alice, it was always a rather touchy subject. Not because she cared about Edward for any stupid reason, but solely because of her hatred towards the girl he couldn't seem not to mention while unconscious. Rosalie didn't give a fuck who Edward liked, sure it made him an easier target to rile up if she knew his weakness, but she really didn't give a damn who he fawned over. She didn't love him, he was just someone to pass the time with.
No, it was definitely the harlot he mentioned that got on her nerves. Rosalie couldn't believe that despite knowing she was unfaithful, Jasper would still want her. It made no sense in her black-and-white form of justice, which of course was based on whatever she wanted to base it on. If she wanted something to be wrong, it was wrong. If she thought doing something was okay, she was still a paradigm of virtue in her own mind if she went ahead and did it.
Everything was subjective in Rosalie Hale's world, and tonight was just a night like any other. As fun as they came for a young woman consumed with envy, anyway.
Author's Note: So I'm anxious. This chapter was shorter than Chapter One. It's not warm and fuzzy. Kind of scared of reader rejection. What did you think? What do you think is going on with these four clearly unhappy people? What does Alice have that Rosalie can't have that makes her so hostile? Or basically, what theories do you have about any of it? I'd love to know if you'd care to share them with me.