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CHAPTER FOUR ʀᴇsᴇɴᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs
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Edward's fickle smirk was enough to make Rosalie's thoughts simmer.
For the whole drive back to the house, she found it difficult to contain her thoughts within the little bubble that she knew Edward found harder to reach. But the smell- the stench- of the car seemed to haze her nose, attacking the fibres of her concentration. If it was this strong for her, she couldn't even begin to imagine how the scent was to Edward. Thinking about it just made her angrier.
When they got home, only Esme was waiting to greet them with her pearly smile, the epitome of a mother as she always was, heightened especially on hours when Carlisle was away working at the hospital. After she'd hugged them all, she went straight for Edward, an arm wrapping around his elbow, amber eyes brightening noticeably as she thought of Bella's eventual and inevitable presence within their family. Rosalie strode away, finding a place on the settee
The house, with the high-rise, glass walls and green accents was always calming, much in a way that Rosalie felt her anger being removed from the stove. Emmett and Jasper hurried straight to the back by the grassy clearing, settling their final wrestling match, of which they had been planning the entire day. Esme trailed off to the kitchen with Edward in tow- that certain room had always ironically been her favourite. Alice sat quaintly at the old, oak desk by the window, pulling out her box of fabrics, all mixes of watery blues and muted pinks, and set them by her sewing machine.
Rosalie didn't stand to move behind her sister as she normally would, advising her where to put the linings and what colour went best, even though Alice was the fashion expert of the family. But the dress she was currently making was a special gift for Rosalie: an elegant black, cut-out dress, designed by Alice with her in mind. The sentiment had been touching and Rosalie had done everything to help Alice make it as perfect as her sister imagined it to be.
But being angry with her family, despite her inability to sleep, made Rose feel something close to fatigue. She flicked through the channels, groaning as each one was showing the same, boring shows that she'd seen multiple times. Instead, as her finger clicked mechanically against the buttons of the remote, Rosalie thought about her car. The lack of the beautiful BMW in the garage had seemingly gone unnoticed so far. If the family had worried about it, they didn't say anything.
It was frustrating to Rosalie. At times like these, she would go to her car and add something or fix something that hadn't even been broken in the first place. She didn't know how she'd let the girl convince her to let her work with it, but she knew how valuable a Cullen's car would be to the business, not that it would have mattered any other time.
But as Rosalie turned to watch Alice work, still sitting on the settee, she decided that tomorrow would be the day to get her car back, no matter if it was fixed or not. She would drag it with her bare hands if the damned thing would refuse to switch on. Her family weren't cautious anymore, so would should she be?
