Disclaimer: Don't own it, just get a kick out of writing about it. Thanks Stephenie!
AN: Sorry for the slow update on this chapter – the reasons are numerous, but at least I got it done, while sitting on a plane last night surrounded by the smell of vomit (yes, the poor child sitting directly behind me got sick while our plane was stuck on the taxi-way at JFK, waiting to take off behind 32 other planes. It was not a good night). Thankfully, there will be no ill vampires in this chapter – unless you count Edward. And that's his own fault.
Enjoy!
She released her hold on my wrists and tangled her hands painfully in my hair, forcing my head to tilt back as she hungrily reciprocated my ravenous kiss. Her honeysuckle scent saturated the air around us, thoroughly drugging my mind. I couldn't think – couldn't process everything she had said seconds before attacking my mouth, couldn't rationalize our bizarre behavior every time we were together. It was as if we were driven to the brink of insanity, yet an unyielding magnetism seemed to draw us together nonetheless, sparking frequent bouts of exasperation marbled with occasional tendrils of understanding.
Because honestly, I understood her hatred for this new life more than anyone realized, including her.
Rosalie pushed me back down so that I was lying beneath her, still prisoner to her fervid touch. As she continued to kiss me, she shifted her position so that she was hovering above me, yet she didn't place her full weight upon my hips. Something deep inside of me yearned to feel her stretched out along my body, and my hands moved on their own accord, reaching up to grasp and pull her more tightly against me. Suddenly, she froze, her lips breaking away in one quick movement.
Very slowly, she started to rise, removing her hands from my hair and capturing my wrists once more. I studied her crimson eyes, perplexed by this abrupt change in behavior. Unconsciously I searched out her thoughts, wondering what would make her stop so unexpectedly - but there was nothing to find; the wall was firmly in place.
She didn't move from her position atop my lap - instead, she sat up straight, closing her eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her peculiar behavior was beginning to worry me – I was used to her anger and smarminess, but not this. It almost felt like she was submitting to some unspoken power; I could feel her muscles relaxing, her hold on my wrists growing weaker. Something was wrong.
"What is it?" My strained voice sounded foreign in the warm morning air, causing her to open her eyes and look down at me. I swallowed stiffly, a thousand thoughts racing through my head as I tried to decipher her unusual actions.
Rosalie continued to gaze at me, and although her body remained lax, I could see the slightest flicker of excitement growing behind her eyes. She cocked her head to the side. "I don't know."
Warily, I appeased her expression, once again probing her mind, but finding nothing. Then she did something odd – very gently, she released my wrists again, guiding my hands from her hips and weaving her fingers with mine. The innocent gesture caught my attention immediately – something about it felt comforting and familiar. But I couldn't quite discern why.
She held up our intertwined hands, and we both gazed at them in wonder. As the sun continued to climb into the sky above, its radiant beams refracted against our iridescent flesh, melding each of our hands together in the most beautiful way. Slowly, we rotated our wrists – first one, then the other, marveling at the prisms that danced across the grass and leaves surrounding us.
But then I felt something else. At first, it was like being shocked – the slightest hint of searing heat passed between her palms and mine. I flinched in surprise and tried to rip my hands away, but her grip tightened, preventing any escape.
A second jolt of warmth shot up my arms from our entwined fingers, traveling through my entire body. I tore my eyes away from our hands and looked back to Rosalie again, my jaw agape. What was happening?
Her expression mirrored my own, only her eyes danced with fascination as she stared at our hands. "Edward, how are you doing that?"
My brow furrowed in confusion. "How am I doing what?"
"That…sensation. It's coming from you." Shifting her grip, she rotated her wrist so that my arm and hand were visible above hers. "I…" She started to speak, then stopped for a second, tilting her head once more. "It's warm. Very warm"
"Your hand has always felt warm to me," I said quietly. I didn't want to admit that I was feeling exactly what she was trying to describe, because I was suddenly scared stiff. Were we supposed to feel this when we touched? If so, why hadn't I felt it so strongly before? Was this somehow related to the wildness of our earlier hunt?
Rosalie was shaking her head repeatedly, an inquisitive smile forming on her face. "No, this is something else." And with that, she let go of both of my hands and pushed them away, then held hers up above us at eye-level, studying her palms with great interest.
"Now it's gone."
I lay quietly beneath her, waiting for her next move. Slowly, she dropped her hands back down to her side and looked at me. "Did you feel it too?"
Pursing my lips together, I tried to keep my face blank. It didn't work.
"I know you did." She bent down, lifting her right hand to brush the backs of her fingers along my cheek. The second our skin touched, a brilliant spark of electricity shot through my entire body. I jumped in fright, but couldn't flee with Rosalie still sitting atop me. She flinched as well, but recovered immediately, resting one finger along my jaw. The current that flowed between her hand and my face was exquisitely palatable. And absolutely terrifying.
Hesitantly, she rocked onto her knees, now kneeling above me, about to stand. She pulled her hand away from my face and stared at it curiously before looking back into my eyes.
"I'm sorry I tackled you." She rose to her feet, extending one arm down to help me to mine. I balked, afraid to touch her again.
Rosalie smirked devilishly, but something was different this time – there was no malice or mockery in her expression. I anticipated some jest regarding my hesitation, but instead, she unveiled her mind to me.
Take my hand – I won't hurt you.
"Sure you won't." I continued to stare at her suspiciously, not sure what to believe. She appeared to be telling the truth – but I couldn't forget those strange sensations when we touched.
She sighed in frustration.
Edward, don't be a pansy. Let me help you up. Please?
That sounded more like the Rosalie I was used to – except for her last word. It was utterly sincere – I could read every thought behind it, and there was no longer any doubt about her genuineness. But I was still extremely nervous to take her hand again, so I reached up to grasp her covered elbow instead, firmly steering her away from me before hopping to my feet. There was still a flash of heat when I gripped her arm, but not like before. This one was…tolerable.
As I turned to face her, I noticed she was scrutinizing my movements from the corner of her eye. Though as soon as she recognized my awareness, she turned her back to me, pretending to straighten her skirt. I ignored it, mentally fatigued by every other odd thing that had transpired over the course of the past day.
"I should probably head back to the house…" I began, but was instantly interrupted.
Don't go.
Once again she was pleading with me to stay. I dropped my head in exasperation, utterly confused. "Why shouldn't I?" My tone was flat – devoid of emotion.
Why go back right now? Is there something urgent that you need to attend to? Or are you just trying to get away from me?
I shrugged, admitting that I had no reason – or no known reason. It just seemed like the best place to go at the moment – I was sure Carlisle and Esme would begin to wonder why I hadn't returned, and there was my neglected piano silently calling to me…
Stay for a bit longer?
"Why?"
Rosalie mimicked my earlier response by shrugging her shoulders. She still faced away from me, picking at the bits of grass and debris on her blouse and skirt. I waited for a solid answer, but got none. Before thinking it through, I blurted out the first thing that crossed my mind.
"By the way, is there a reason why you're being nice to me now?"
She whipped around, eyes wide. Her jaw flexed, preparing to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she answered me silently.
Was I that bad before?
Her face revealed the tone of her thought – she wasn't bitter or irritated, nor was she remorseful. The question was meant factually; honestly. So I responded in the same way.
"I'm just not used to you talking to me without some undertone of sarcasm or spite."
That's not entirely true – I've spoken to you plenty of times in a pleasant manner.
"Maybe so, but usually it doesn't follow you verbally and physically assaulting me."
Rosalie snorted, pressing her lips together to hold in the inevitable laughter that threatened to bubble over. I felt a simper creep onto my face after watching her reaction. The mood between us had instantaneously shifted from serious to silly in a nanosecond.
Maybe next time you should listen when I ask you to stay.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh that's right, I'm supposed to comply with your every wish."
She tried to hide a smile.
It's not about what you're supposed to do. I think you secretly want to.
The air between us suddenly became still; her thoughts no longer teasing in nature. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck began to rise as I felt that alien current of energy hum between us again. And we weren't even touching.
As if being pulled forward by some unseen tether, I felt my foot take a step towards her. She did the same. We were only a couple feet apart, and hesitantly, Rosalie raised her arm, tracing her fingers along my shoulder. Instantly, my entire body was flushed with fever, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.
Why is this happening?
I was too afraid to answer her – instead, I lowered my head, shaking it once. Nothing that had occurred between us made any sense, but this gravitational draw was by far the most alarming. This didn't feel like everything else – I could arbitrarily excuse the taunting, the arguing, even the kissing as stress and loneliness-induced. But this was something much deeper, and much more complicated. A dull, throbbing ache settled in the pit of my stomach, and some intuitive voice told me the only way to reconcile it was to touch her. Hold her. Was that what she was feeling as well?
Unconsciously, I raised my free arm, reaching out, but not touching her. My eyes grew wide as I watched my traitorous body move without direction from my mind. I thoughtthat perhaps I was attempting to touch her as she had touched me.
But Rosalie understood what I was searching for even as I did not. Her gaze drifted from my raised arm over to my face, focusing for a second on my open mouth, then moved upward to my eyes. Regarding one another intensely, it was as if I could suddenly see straight into her soul.
"Edward…" her voice ached with need, causing the pain in my stomach to double. Reflexively I swallowed back a mouthful of venom, virtually unaware that it had started to pool in my mouth.
My lips trembled as my mind scrambled to focus on all of these new emotions. What was she asking? What was I supposed to do?
Before I could stop myself, I spoke out loud. "Rose."
She took another step forward while simultaneously moving her hand that was resting upon my shoulder around my neck. As her body slowly pressed into mine, I instinctively closed my arm around her waist, pulling her tightly to me like I had tried to do when we were lying on the hill.
The instant we came together in a desperate embrace, it was as if a floodgate opened. All of the anguish and frustration and misery that had been bottled up so tightly within came rushing out of every pore. My shoulders slumped in relief and I nearly collapsed as the heavy weight that had been sitting atop my shoulders for as long as I remembered was suddenly gone. I felt free; relieved. Happy.
And through her shared thoughts, she told me she felt the same way too. For the first time since she had been turned, Rosalie was finally at peace as I held her in my arms.
"So, how have you been, Edward?"
Carlisle sat across from me in his study, his hands folded neatly on the desk. I hadn't been back to the house since the card game, only two days ago. However, that extended absence paired with the nature of my prior departure had left both him and Esme baffled, and slightly suspicious. I could hear their thoughts clearly when I had arrived – although they believed Rosalie's cover story regarding our succinct meeting in the woods, they couldn't understand why I hadn't returned home immediately. My rouse of continually avoiding Rosalie in their presence would no longer be ignored. Carlisle wanted some answers.
I remained chary, despite his open mind. "Fine, Carlisle. And yourself?"
A faint smile crossed his face, warming his eyes.
I'm fine, son. But I want to know how you are doing. Honestly. You're not getting along with Rosalie at all, are you?
That answer depended on how he defined 'getting along'. The past two days had been…strange to put it mildly.
"To be frank, Carlisle, not in the manner that you had hoped. Though I am trying to at least be civil to her." I reminded myself repeatedly to use the singular pronoun. Slipping up and saying 'we're trying to at least be civil' would end the charade at once, and give him enough reason to continue to hope for some sort of bond to develop between us.
I beat back the voices in my head reminding me that a connection may have already been formed. Carlisle doesn't need to know that, I reminded myself.
He nodded, glancing away in thought.
And her behavior around you?
I shrugged, trying to downplay the question as I outwardly lied to him. "It's what I expected."
What I had really expected from her was more of the same, even after our moment of rare tranquility atop our sacred hill. Cattiness. Arrogance. General contempt laced with an odd need for taunting one another. Which led to explosive arguments. Which led to kissing. Then lately, which led to frequent kissing. Which led to more fiery quarrels, until we both stormed away, furious with one another. Then the vicious cycle would repeat itself.
But now things had changed.
We had held one another for hours – not speaking, not moving. Just existing with that extraordinary current of energy flowing effortlessly between us. Rosalie's mind had slowly gone blank, and I could literally feel the angst and turmoil exiting her body with each passing minute. I was reluctant to let her go when I noticed the sun setting – and the pained look in her eyes when I finally broke our embrace and stepped away tore my fossilized heart in two. But I needed a few hours alone to attempt to sort through everything that had transpired between us. And more importantly, I needed to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable return to the house, and to the rest of my family.
Carlisle's probing though distracted me from my internal musings.
Edward, do you want us to intercede? Maybe talk to her – find a way to help you two get along?
"No. Not at all." I kept my tone impossibly controlled and void of emotion, even though
I could feel my muscles tensing from the increasing stress of deceiving him. They don't need to know about this. Rosalie's wish rang repeatedly through my head, spurring me forward and fueling the charade.
Carlisle sighed heavily and glanced over to his bookshelf on the far wall. I expected him to mask his thoughts from me; obviously he was not happy with the contrived situation. But instead, he permitted complete access to his train of thought.
How do I rectify this situation – close the distance between the two of them? Is it possible for me to help them find some common ground and a way to coexist peacefully with myself and Esme in this house…as a family?
Common ground. If only he knew.
"Is there any chance at all that you can try and make this work?" Carlisle was looking at me once more, but his emotional state had changed dramatically. He wasn't sad or disappointed like his last thought had indicated. Instead, he was downright determined, and I could plainly see in his eyes that 'no' wasn't an acceptable answer to his last question.
I took a deep breath, thinking through my words carefully. I needed to placate his concerns, but I also needed to give us reason to not be forced together in their company, especially as we struggled to work through this perplexing semblance of a relationship. "I'll try and talk to her again. But please, let me do it my way. She'll resist this sort of pressure coming from you and Esme. As much as she detests my presence, it's best if you let me try and resolve this…alone."
This time, I spoke the truth. Rosalie would despise any sort of intervention, especially from Carlisle and Esme. After all, she had only been living with us for a very short amount of time. Her parents weren't deceased, nor were they absent from her memory. It was much too soon for her to share the same sort of bond with them; possibly, she never would.
Carlisle lowered his eyes to his clasped hands upon the desk and nodded his head once.
I understand, and I appreciate your willingness to overcome this issue.
"You're welcome." I felt like such a traitor for lying to him. Carlisle wasn't just my father – he was my best friend, my confidant, and my mentor. Everything I did was for him or Esme, and I knew that they did everything in their power to please me. Such a rapport was built on trust and love, yet here I sat – deliberately leading him to believe that Rosalie and I were still incapable of getting along, just to protect the true nature of our relationship. Self-loathing began to simmer within as I watched him smile kindly at me.
"Again, please keep the lines of communication open, and let me know how you're faring. I'll ask Esme to refrain from pestering Rosalie about the subject – hopefully that will help your cause."
A bile taste flooded my mouth, preventing me from speaking. So instead, I nodded in acknowledgement before standing to depart. He sent me one last thought.
You and Rosalie are more alike than you'll ever realize. Hopefully you can find some camaraderie within those similarities, son.
Camaraderie – maybe that's what I'd call our…relationship.
Though even with an innocent sounding name, I still felt dirty for what I had done. Yet despite all of the guilt and apprehension that persistently plagued every cell in my body, my mind instantly became fixated on only one thing as I left the house for the evening.
Rosalie.
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