Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, and therefore cannot stop the mass chaos of Robert Pattinson pillowcases that are flooding into stores all across America. I am afraid. I do own, though, the power of spring break which I am excited to say is THIS WEEK. Boo-yah.

Rosalie's point of view of what happened in the last chapter, set in spirit to The Veronicas "Speechless". It is a lovely song and I demand you hear it. Ok, well not demand because I'm not pushy like that, but it's a really good song.

Dedicated to the grand Natalie!

Hope you like it!!

The large shell suitcase landed with a thud on the cushioned carpet that adorned the sitting room floor of the quaint house Rosalie Hale had just stepped into, followed closely by two black stiletto shoes and a small sigh of relief as the girl landed with a muted puff on a leather couch. The dim light fluttered in through the sheer window curtains and the woman closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world that was revolving just a little too fast around her.

"Ahaha, stop! Stop please!"

Petite hands clutched two metal chains as the world spun around the woman laughing breathlessly in a twisted swing that a burly man kept coiling. Her breath caught in her throat as the man's heart-stopping smile appeared in her vision, a blush creeping into her cheeks as he just stared at her.

"Your pleas falls on deaf ears, my lady."

Her eyes snapped open as the memory grazed her thoughts, unwilling to let it go any further and complicate things even more. Flinging her arms above and behind her head she trained her eyes on the smooth, white ceiling and started talking to the rather large dog she heard clicking it's was down the wooden hallway to the carpeted paradise.

"I know you're only a dog Capone, but can you tell me why I can't get him out of my head? It seems that every time I close my eyes I see him – us – and my dreams are no different; he has taken over my life."

Rosalie tore her eyes away from the flat plaster to the gigantic dog now sitting, looking at her, expecting her to continue with her story as he panted heavily from the hard work of walking down the hallway.

"Can you believe we only met about two months ago, but it feels like I have always known him, that we have been the best of friends since childhood – within a week of meeting we already knew every basic thing about each other and as of late I haven't been able to stop myself from stating the most private aspects of my mind and personality to him."

Capone cocked his head, the thick shaggy hair falling in the beast's eyes as the ears perked in what looked to Rosalie as interest.

"No, I'm not going to tell you any mister. So quit being cute."

Her right hand swung from its position behind her head to the crown of Capone's head, her fingers contracting and expanding as she massaged his head.

"I've told you time and again that I don't want you hanging around those places after dark Rosalie!"

Tap tap tap.

Rosalie gripped the phone in anger and spun around in the small telephone box to face the jerk that couldn't wait ten seconds longer to use the device. How on earth was she the only one without a cell phone?

"Listen fathead, can't you see I'm in the middle –"

The face of a baby angel met hers as the door slid open and the stranger spoke.

"I just thought I'd tell you that you're beautiful. Have a nice day, miss."

"And here I was thinking that the world had it out for me. Did you know that he was the only man to ever call me 'beautiful'? It felt good to hear that instead of all the disgusting cat calls I usually get from pigs on the street."

Blinking twice, she propelled her legs to the floor and kicked herself into a sitting position, readjusting her flowing red skirt and shivering when she first took notice of the cold air swirling out of the vents. She knew her brother kept his place cold for the sake of his dog, but when one was able to see their breath something was wrong.

Rosalie stood gracefully from the chesterfield and crossed one foot in front of the other just to see the ground rushing towards her…

"Excuse me," the man didn't turn around. Huffing, Rosalie tried yet again to get his attention without actually having to play the part of the psycho stranger tailing an unsuspecting man. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Still nothing, and it was getting on her nerves as well as hurting her feet from following him. Throwing every ounce of self-respect into the air she picked up her pace and trotted to his side.

"Don't you have enough manners to talk to someone when they're talking to you-"

And there she went, catapulting towards the solid pavement without warning after tripping, no doubt, over her new shoes. Warm hands found her waist, rescuing her from the inevitable pavement encounter.

…and the individual carpet threads as her eyes were level with the floor, no warm hands to catch her embarrassing folly.

"Dammit!"

Long, delicate fingers curled into a fist to strike the ground ferociously as tears welled in her eyes then ran down her face, carrying what little black mascara she was wearing with them.

"It's like I can't even function without him near me!"

God, what she wouldn't do to just go home and cuddle up with him, maybe ignore the world outside and just get lost in each other, in his comforting eyes. Her blonde hair fell around her head when she let her head fall and propped her feet upon the offending suitcase she had tripped over seconds ago.

The only sounds heard were the whirling of cold air spinning out of the hidden air vent and Capone as his paws reached the glass coffee table and began to lick at a dish that was scattered with crunchy crumbs. The slow breathing of Rosalie Hale added to the musical silence, the shallow and infrequent inhalations giving heed that the shielded girl whose face remained hidden from the outside world was troubled.

The front door creaked open rather loudly, shadowed by lazy footsteps along the wooden entryway and stopped where Rosalie guessed the sitting room carpet began. The person heaved a large sigh and rustled a paper bag before finally deciding to speak.

"Oh my god, Rosalie, you finally died…!" The words were thick with sarcastic concern and the voice was laden with an obnoxious nasal tone. Rose's head jerked up at the sound of the paper sack hitting the floor with a crinkle and a dramatic gasp from her older brother standing, staring, at something on his floor.

"Anthony, what the-"

"Are those new Prada stilettos? Where the hell did you get them?"

She groaned and let her head slam back to where it was, undoubtedly marking the smooth skin with rough rug burn. The obnoxious nasal tone was no more, replaced by a smooth, upper-baritone voice

"Oh, sorry Rosie. We're here to talk about man issues, aren't we? Well, I guess since you're at my house you're really here to talk to me about your man issues." The voice paused. "And by the looks of it, he already has you head over heels!"

Laughter peeled out into the silenced air, her brother's mirthful laughter making her smile against everything that she was struggling through. Extending her arms she propped herself on her palms and climbed back to a standing position and faced her brother.

Anthony Hale was much like his sister – tall, lean, blonde, and beautiful. Their style sense was in tune with the latest fashions and he too detested their parents for their behaviour towards their only children. To say the truth, Rosalie loved her brother more than almost anything in the world for him seeing the error in the way their parents were treating them, especially her, and he loved her for accepting him when he told the family that he preferred the Chippendales over Playboys spreads.

Blue eyes bored into blue eyes and eventually they embraced, relieved to see the other after months of no communication.

"So, Rosie, let's get to the bottom of this so we can grab a drink and watch Carrie make a fool of herself."

Not bothering to check with his sister if she liked the idea, Anthony fell gracefully to the ground and sat with his legs extended, propped back on his palms and looked expectantly at Rosalie. Capone, who had abandoned the plate when startled by the bag, strode to his master's side and defiantly jumped from the carpet to the leather sofa, sighing in contentment when settled. Rosalie blinked in confusion.

Anthony exhaled forcefully, his blonde hair flying with the air as it traveled up.

"I know you're a little slow at times – it's the blonde – but let's start this talk now so we can forget about it. That, and I have an early appointment tomorrow so I need a little sleep."

"But you're on the floor." Rosalie took her time saying this, annunciating each word as if he was a little boy. "When you have a perfect seat not two feet from where you stood."

He put his full weight on his left arm while be brought his right up to his face to examine his impeccable fingernails.

"Yeah, my therapist said it was good for my soul to switch up perspectives once in a while." He nodded to the empty floor beside him. "Thus, the floor. Now park it, sister." His examined hand hit the ground for emphasis.

Pushing back her long blonde hair Rosalie rolled her eyes then sat back down to where she was no less than a minute ago but on her back rather than her face. Being one to not drag out the speech, she dove right in.

"It felt the first day of my life when I met him. I've always dated losers and guys who couldn't keep it in their pants, but with him, it was… I don't know, totally different. I've always been articulate and he leaves me speechless with everything he does for me."

He led her through the busy park to a secluded spot under a large oak tree, shielding their bodies from the strong rays and extracted from behind the trunk a large basket and blanket.

"Picnic for two, my lady?"

Her mouth fell open in slight surprise, her eyes roaming from the wicker carrier to the man holding it, and couldn't say anything. She found herself not able to talk when he spoke to her so softly and with such tenderness, and his deep eyes took away every breath her small lungs held when his glances would pass her way.

A smile broke through her shocked exterior, lighting up her face.

"Emmett, you never cease to amaze me."

Rosalie rolled her head to peer at her brother and saw a dubious expression settling on his perfect brow and her eyes narrowed in on the sweater that was now poised on his shoulders, draping his arms in warmth.

"Where did you get that sweater from all of a sudden?" Her manicured finger pointed at the offending garment, cold air cruising over the part of her stomach where her hand had lain.

"You kinda zoned out for a second so I grabbed it from the couch. It's cold in here, isn't it?"

"You think?"

His hand waved away her talk as the automatic room light lit the room in a bright, welcoming yellow glow.

"Don't care. Continue dear."

"Whatever." Her attention was drawn back to the ceiling she was puncturing with her pupils as she told her story. "The more we talked the more comfortable I felt around him and my resistance was breaking all the time. I promised myself that I wouldn't let anything develop that could possibly turn into something I would be afraid of, but I think that oath has flopped just like my science project."

Her recently retracted hand shot to the air and silenced Anthony before he even opened his mouth. Capone's head jerked at the sudden movement, his ears alert.

"I don't want to talk about the project so just shove it before you even start."

"Me? I wasn't going to say anything!"

Rosalie heard him swallow then his words flowed out in a hurried rush.

"Except that I told you that toilet paper wouldn't – "

"I said no! Anyway, what should I do? I like him too much to drag him around with me not believing, but I can't give him up. I'm too happy with him."

Capone's head lowered back to the pliable material, a soft whine breaking through his muzzle at the chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"You told him you don't believe? I thought you'd never tell anyone besides me!"

"Know what, Emmett?"

She bit her lip as she heard movement in the background, the phone pressed to her ear with such intensity it started to throb.

"What?"

Rosalie was battling against herself. She had never told anyone this secret she harbored but she had blurted out the provoking question before her mind caught up with her voice.

"I don't believe in love."

The response was immediate.

"What? Seriously? I don't believe you."

You should, she thought to herself.

"It's true! I believe that people fake love to get that they want." Like my parents. "I mean that's what my parents did." What? "They don't love each other – my mother loves the money my father makes and he loves the sex my mother gives him."

Her face sent off waves of heat as she piled popcorn in her mouth, desperate to stop it from saying anything else that could send her running to the closet for the rest of forever. Her knees shot to her chest and she sank deeper in her upholstered red couch for comfort, awaiting the answer, if any.

"Well, trust me Rose, love is real."

Rosalie catapulted herself to a sitting position and brought her legs to her chest, resting her head on her knees. Her bare feet snuggled into the carpet and her hair cascaded around her shoulders in a vain attempt to retain heat.

"It wasn't my fault. His sincerity took me by surprise and it was natural to let something so personal slip out."

Her voice was soft and the blue eyes stared into a memory instead of the pouting face of her sibling.

"He stole my heart before I could say no. Before I knew what was happening. Before I knew I had a heart to steal."

Anthony's long legs folded themselves and his torso hovered over his now crossed appendages. His arm reached out slowly and landed on Rosalie's back, rubbing small circles in a reassuring gesture.

"It's ok Rosie. Love does that to us."

Her eyes locked onto his dark ones, the stars above them dancing happily in their heaven as the two walked down the deserted street, hand in hand. She didn't dare utter a sound, and every hope of talking a coherent sentence flew out of her clouded head when he smiled at her.

He tugged her to a stop and brought his free hand to her face, tracing her every feature on the face before him. All breath left her body as he leaned down to her level and flitted his lips across the silk that was her lips. It was at this moment that Rosalie realized that she might be in love with this man who held her tenderly and treated her like the goddess she knew she could never be. She would go to wherever he was to just hear name muttered by him.

"I couldn't resist. You bewitched me in the moonlight, fair Rosalie."

She would do anything for Emmett McCarty… even believe in love.

Tears brimmed in the corner of both eyes and Rosalie blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

"I guess it is love, isn't it."

She couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice at the thought of being in love. Love didn't exist, and if it did then she had no clue that it would be real or attainable for her.

As is sensing her insecurity, Anthony spoke.

"Rosie, please don't base your belief of love on our parents. They didn't love each other – they loved money and sex, not people. I know it was hard growing up and never seeing what real love was like, but don't think that it doesn't exist because we were never witnesses to it. Don't run from it."

"It's just so unfamiliar and it scares me to think that I'm in something I don't believe in."

"Just… let things happen. Don't stop it because you're afraid. Hell, I'm afraid of you falling in love. I'm afraid of myself falling in love. But thankfully," his arm was snatched from her back and he pushed off of his knees into a standing position, now towering over her. "We have the tutelage of four middle aged women to help us find what this strange concept of love is."

Rosalie's beautiful face twisted into a smile and she nodded her head. So, she was in love with Emmett McCarty when she didn't believe in love. In a way though, being in love with him made her believe in it.

She picked her head up from her knees and held out her hand for help up. "Ok, let's go mix those drinks Ant."

He took her hand and yanked her to her feet.

"I told you not to call me that ever!"

---The next day---

"Yeah, Bella, he just left your place? What? … You told him I was going to New York? … I was, but at the last minute I flew back here to talk to Anthony instead of greeting good old mom. … I'm sorry I didn't call. My cell died. Yeah, like a day after I got there and me being me I left my charger there. … Got that right. Nebraska never again! Haha … ok, I'm just going to go to his place and wait there for him. … It is early, isn't it? I saw Jasper and Alice walking a few minutes ago. …Ok, sure will. See you later today! Bye!"

Rosalie hung up the public phone and opened the booth door, shutting it tightly when she was out and wrapping her coat tightly around herself to dispel the drizzle that has just started. Her heels clicked as she walked the few meters to Emmett's apartment complex and fiddled for the key he had given to her to open his happy abode and let herself in.

She took in the messy state of affairs and rolled her eyes – clothing everywhere and beer bottles lying haphazardly on the wooden floor. Typical Emmett.

"Emmett? Emmett, are you in here?"

Silence reverberated from every corner in a cold reply. Shrugging, she pushed closed the heavy door and locked it, hearing the locks tumble in compliance and retreated further into the place she had become so familiar with.

"Figures… I finally get a cell phone and it dies because I forgot the charger. Maybe this is why the parents never gave me one. Smart people."

Her voice alone wasn't comforting as she made her way through the hallway and seated herself at his table, in her favourite chair, and draped her cold coat over the back of it. Then she waited.

She didn't care much of the dark to turn on the lights in order to dispel the creeping shadows lurking everywhere but wish she had at least turned on a light when she heard the lock turning and the door swinging open, then the clank of keys upon wood, followed by a thud that she knew to be his wallet.

"Oh God, why…"

Her heart broke with those three words. The pure agony that laced the utterance was enough to bring tears to her eyes, and when a strong thud succeeded by a sliding sound echoed in her ears she wondered how she could ever had been away from this man for longer than a night.

"God, I love her… and I never got to say it. Now I don't know if I ever will."

She couldn't take it anymore. Piled with not seeing him for five days, that confession drove her to push back the chair she was seated in and walk across the kitchenette to the hallway. His face whipped up from the downcast glance it was in and gazed in awe.

"Rose…"

Rosalie bit back a cry when she entered the dimly lit hall to see Emmett on the floor, drawn into himself and soaking with the fresh rain, unshaven and looking like a complete wreck.

"Emmett, let me explain. I left to stay at my brother's house yesterday because I was afraid of what I was feeling when I'm with you and I needed to get away to sort it out. I did, though, and I want to thank you."

She prayed that he wouldn't hate her after all this time. It was only five days, but she hadn't called him or let him know where she was going other than a trip to a friend. Then, after being gone for four days hearing that she had possibly gone back to New York? It must have killed him. She knew it would have killed her.

Emmett was drawing closer and closer to her as she stood there, thinking inwardly. She really needed to stop zoning out when people were known to move…

"For what?"

His deep voice made her quiver in her soul and not able to contain herself, reached for his face and pulled it down to hers, whispering to him for fear her voice would break with emotion.

"For making me believe in love."

Their lips met in passion and his arm rounded her tiny frame, then the other one, picking her up and swinging her in happily in the entry way.

Rosalie Hale was in love.

My apologies for grammatical errors – grammar and I don't dance and therefore aren't known for going well together. But we've been thrust together so we are close acquaintances. But you all have made it if you even bother to read this purple elephants roam the desert and I thank you if you did for now you can giggle.

Tid-Bit Information Time:
Be careful to not kiss a stranger in Grand Rapids, Iowa. Apparently stranger kissing isn't fun to them. They don't know what they're missing. xD

Thank you for reading!!

Love to All,

Kat

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