Vanity and Patience: A Rosalie Hale & Emmett Cullen Story

Chapter 20: Revelations

"All right. Next question," Emmett muttered. "Unless you want me to go again."

"No, no," I answered through giggles.

The clouds moved lazily above us as we stared up into the partially sunny sky. It was nearing sunset, and yellowish orange beams danced and changed around us. Emmett was lying beside me on the grass next to the boulder we had leaned on in our short moment of passion before I had cut it short prematurely. Had it not been for his reassuring words and caresses, I'd still be feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for refusing him once again. By some strange twist of fate, the man I had fallen for accepted me unconditionally: my horrible past, my stubborn nature, and my questionable status of virtue.

His arm, which served as my pillow, had wrapped around my neck so that his hand was resting on my furthest shoulder; his thumb lightly rubbing at my upper arm. We had spent the first couple of hours laying here in silence before he decided to ask me questions, in an attempt to get to know me on a more personal level. I had spent the past hour of our heart-to-heart explaining my side of the story, and my reasoning as to why I still continued to play that vicious little game that we could now put behind us.

I smiled to myself before I asked my next question. "When did you first notice me?" I was very curious as to how his feelings had developed, and wanted to know what he had gone through when he wasn't speaking to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the side of his cheek turn up into a smile. "It's hard not to notice an ice cool angel taking flight as she holds you while you're dying." He turned to me, and my eyes switched from the sky to his happy face. "I thought I'd died and you were taking me to heaven, of course," he chuckled.

I giggled in response to his revelation, bringing my hand to his face as I pushed them into his dark curly locks. "Not that I didn't enjoy that answer, but I guess I mis-communicated my question. When was it when you noticed me as... someone to be with? What with your bloodlust and all."

He propped himself up on his side with his elbow. "Oh, Rosalie," he said, shaking his head. "There were many instances that pointed me in your direction."

"Like what?"

He bit his lip as he studied me, taking his free hand to brush an errant tendril away from my face.

That simple touch elicited a shiver from me as I watched him, eagerly for an answer.

"Well, there was that time in the garage, after my hunt when that cat had ruined my shirt." His mouth turned up into a full cheeky grin as his eyes turned away and became slightly unfocused.

I looked away and remembered that the scent of my yearning was what had affected him so strongly that night, biting my lip.

"Hey, you asked," he muttered, watching my reaction. "I was merely answering your question."

"Well, what else?" I asked again eagerly, still unable to look at him.

"Our first hunt alone," he admitted quietly.

My eyes opened wide and I turned my head towards him sharply. "Our first hunt? You didn't notice me at al because you were busy drinking."

"Hmm, was that before or after I had hunted?"

"Before, during... what does it matter?"

"It matters," he sighed, leaning over towards me as he took his opposite leg to place it over mine. His face was inches from mine at this moment. "I can't be distracted when I'm thirsty," he whispered, leaning into me, "but I'm more than happy to stare down your shirt and enjoy your thigh peeking out of a torn skirt when I'm satisfied."