A/N: I knew everything about twilight when I was like ten, and I've forgotten like 80% of it, but I know one thing For Sure: Rosalie Hale is a lesbian.

..

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The way Esme talks about mates strikes Rosalie as something akin to socially acceptable, practical insanity. Star-crossed and romantic and forever. Esme hums contentedly, a dreamy look in her golden eyes. Rosalie follows her gaze but comes up empty.

Carlisle tells her the scientific explanation- chemicals, pheromones. It's very technical and clinical. It sounds so cold and detached, like something grown in a test tube. It doesn't click like she hoped it would. Rosalie looks down at her hands as he speaks. Her synapses died almost a hundred years ago. They do not fire for anyone anymore.

Jasper starts to say something that seems promising, but he bottles up at the last second. He must sense the chaotic swirl of emotions possessing her. It proves to be too much for the empath. He apologizes sincerely before darting downstairs. Rosalie decides that's fair. She doesn't really want to be talking about this either.

Emmett misunderstands and starts talking about sex. Rosalie leaves without another word. She isn't sure he really notices. There was once a time when she believed he could have been her mate. That was a long time ago when she needed something to believe in, or at the very least, something to stitch her leaking heart.

She tries to avoid asking Alice because talking to her sister is always an exercise in learning something new and disturbingly profound about herself. Alice has a way of pushing buttons… and pulling levers and overloading circuit boards. Best avoid her until the desperation makes itself known.

She doesn't like to talk to Edward. She fears they are too similar- they are more hesitant than the others to fully embrace their immortal existence. But Carlisle turned her for him, and that is something she can never and will never let herself forget. So similar they are, they both hate just the same- coldly and endlessly. The years have dulled them to civility, but have also destroyed the means of building a sound relationship. Rosalie wavers often on how to feel about this.

But she decides to ask him anyway. He is in his room listening to music as always. Differences and differences between them, yet he still finds it in himself to make her- and everyone else- new music playlists every now and then. She can't ever think of anything to say to him, but she plays the songs he picks for her while she works in the garage. She supposes this is as close as they can ever be.

She asks him, and he sits up and looks at her quizzically. "Where is this coming from? You've never cared for the subject before."

Rosalie feels a familiar wave of anger surge. Anger is always her fallback. It's a safety net because it's already expected of her. But not today. Not now that she's already worked up the courage to ask something so candid to her entire family.

"I have been… There's…" she looks down at him, for once pleading him to read her thoughts so that she doesn't have to say it. So she doesn't have to admit that today at lunch, the entire gravity of the world shifted when a girl walked- or stumbled, rather- into the cafeteria. That Rosalie took one look at her and simply couldn't look away as she awkwardly navigated through conversations with the other humans at her table. That they locked eyes across the room, an action so minute, yet it sent a jolt through her system that she still hasn't managed to shake. That the girl smiled at her and waved a little. She hadn't waved back. She was too wrecked to do anything.

He furrows his brow for a moment before his dark eyes widen in realization. "Oh. You think… Oh, Rosalie." He smiles at her for the first time since the 60s. "I'm glad. That's..."

She supposes he realizes then that there are a few problems. Namely, the girl is human. But even more worrying is that for all her years, all Rosalie Hale knows of love is what she has gleaned from listening to Esme, and what her first mother taught her while she was growing up in the early 20th century. The latter had ended with her eventual death. Rosalie is truly beautiful and truly masterful at repression, but hate masquerading as love has haunted her all her life, and this she can't ever forget completely.

"I'm not sure I'm the best to ask for advice," Edward says with more care than she believes she deserves from him. "But I understand."

His words mean more to her than she could have imagined just moments ago when she was still contemplating speaking to him. Fleetingly, she thinks that maybe they are on a good path this time. Best not to ruin things early on.

She hesitates. "Thank you… Just… Thanks, Edward."

It isn't necessary, but he nods for her sake. Rosalie takes her leave and allows herself the dramatic air of a deep sigh before knocking on Alice's door.

...

After a few days off from school to hunt, Rosalie returns, reservedly elated yet still wracked with nerves to find she shares her honors English class with the girl.

Rosalie always sits in the back, away from the windows and frankly the other students as well. The girl ducks into the classroom right before the bell. Her hair is a little bit of a mess and her blue flannel is misbuttoned. Rosalie would think she was adorable if she wasn't so struck by her choice of seating. She drops her book bag onto the desk directly next to her, two rows behind the nearest students. No buffer. Rosalie makes the mistake of inhaling sharply in surprise. She smells like the forest early in the morning before the sun rises to heat the earth. Well, that and blood, and some other strange sweetness she can't identify just yet.

The girl turns in her seat to face her. There's a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You're Rosalie Cullen, right?"

"Hale," she corrects reflexively. Among other reasons, she kept it in memory of her two little brothers. She dislikes the constant reminder of her human life and how she lost it, but she misses them acutely.

The girl grins more fully. Her eyes are a rich brown. "I'm Bella Swan. I just moved here."

Alice had told her to be her usual beautiful, confident self. That humans naturally migrate toward their kind anyway. All she has to do is build on that attraction.

Rosalie smiles faintly and looks down at her notebook. She feels Bella's gaze on her. It's light and friendly. Rosalie is certain that if blood still coursed through her, most of it would have lent itself to coloring her cheeks.

Miraculously, she finds it in herself to meet her eyes. "Well, maybe… Maybe I could show you around sometime? Only if you want to."

Bella nods. The glint in her eyes somehow matches the quiet hunger in Rosalie's. "Cool," she says. "It's a date."

...

So, Rosalie does her best showing Bella all Forks has to offer. There isn't much, and Rosalie is definitely not the right person for the job, but Bella doesn't seem to mind at all. She just walks beside Rosalie with her hands shoved into her jacket pockets, cheeks red from the cold. Her breath comes out in a visible fog. Rosalie's does not. Bella doesn't notice.

Bella suggests that they get hot chocolates at Carver's before Rosalie drops her off back at her house. Rosalie is mildly surprised she remembered the name of the little diner.

...

To Rosalie's surprise, Bella asks for her phone number one day in English class.

The following days are filled with handfuls of little text messages from Bella. Nothing of substance really. Just little pieces of her day. The dog she saw on her way to school. Her history teacher who had forgotten to zip his pants. What she thinks of some oaf called Mike Newton. It's all very incoherent.

Rosalie is baffled. She asks Alice what any of it means and is only met with a slight shrug and a knowing smile. "Humans are just like that."

...

Bella asks her to study with her for midterms. Rosalie isn't aware they even have an English midterm, but she agrees, the only condition being that they study at the Swan residence. The last thing she needs is her family getting ahold of Bella.

She rides with Bella in her old red Chevy truck. Rosalie closes her eyes and identifies dozens of ways she could tune it up for Bella. It wouldn't even be a favor, really. Just common decency.

Bella introduces her to Chief Swan, a man she has heard her father speak about on occasion. He starts to greet her but stops short for a moment before nodding. "You one of Dr. Cullen's kids?"

"Yes, sir." It isn't that hard to identify a Cullen in Forks. Sure none of them looked related, but they all looked the same anyway. Cut from the same undead cloth.

"And you're… studying?"

Bella rolls her eyes. "Yeah, Dad. We have midterms." She grabs Rosalie's hand and pulls her upstairs before Charlie can get another word out.

Bella's room is small. It's simply decorated and smells freshly painted. Rosalie finds it charming in comparison to her own admittedly lavish bedroom. She cannot help her love of beautiful things.

Bella unceremoniously flops onto her bed. Rosalie sits gingerly beside her. She moves some of Bella's long, dark hair out of her face. "There is no midterm, is there?"

Bella captures Rosalie's hand in both her own and smirks a little. "Nope."

...

Rosalie spends a great deal of time in the Swan household after that. She so loves the simplicity of Bella's life with her father. Nothing drastic ever happening, yet they both retain the potential for so much. They aren't frozen.

Spending time with Bella is remarkably easy. Bella tells her about her mother and Phil and Phoenix. They watch movies together. Or pretend to. Rosalie rests her head on Bella's shoulder unable to tear her eyes from their linked fingers.

...

Bella is very, very clumsy. So clumsy, Rosalie simply has to out herself as a supernatural being.

Rosalie is listening to Alice talk about her new ideas for Cullen baseball outfits when she hears Bella's truck rolling in. Alice knows well enough by now that her sister's attention is elsewhere, but she can't be upset.

Bella parks and scans the lot, a smile illuminating her face when she catches Rosalie's eyes. She waves and starts in her direction, but Isabella Swan and ice are a very terrible combination. One moment she's on her feet and the next, she's on the ground.

Rosalie hears the squeal of tires and acts without thinking. In a flash, she has Bella in her arms and the full weight of a van against her back.

Bella looks around, shocked but unharmed. Rosalie helps her to her feet, and rushes away immediately, leaving her alone to sort out the spinning in her head and the Rosalie-sized dent in Tyler's van.

...

At the hospital, Rosalie apologizes profusely to her adoptive father before he goes in to check on Bella. Carlisle just puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles. He has never seen Rosalie quite so alive.

...

What Bella does with this new information surprises and mildly irritates Rosalie. She doesn't ask her a lot of questions or push her to explain or anything of the sort. She just starts throwing things at her randomly every once in a while, and Rosalie catches them without thinking. Rocks, keys, bottles, books.

Rosalie finally puts her foot down when Bella hefts a lamp at her.

...

Carlisle requests the family at least get to meet Bella before Rosalie tells her the whole truth. Esme picks up on her daughter's anxiety right away and assures her that everyone will be on their best behavior. As if that would ever happen. She doesn't really have a choice this time.

She brings Bella home on a Saturday afternoon, after making Esme promise to keep Emmett and Alice from doing what… Emmett and Alice do.

Bella seems oddly nervous for the first time since Rosalie has known her, but it all drains away the moment her surrogate parents open the door to greet them.

"Oh, it's wonderful to finally meet you!" Esme gushes. "Rose has told us so much about you."

Carlisle welcomes her and introduces her to Jasper and Edward who wastes no time making himself scarce after a nod of acknowledgment.

Despite everyone's best efforts, Emmett comes barrelling down the stairs. He envelops Bella in a bear-hug and lifts her off the ground. Bella laughs, taken by surprise.

"So you're Rose's girl, huh?" He pretends to size her up. Bella tosses Rosalie a grin that makes her feel something.

Alice blurs down the stairs and joins the group, startling Bella when she suddenly materializes by her side. Rosalie can tell she's holding back by the way she's vibrating with excitement. She's touched that her sister is trying.

After a while, she finally gives up and allows her family to do what they were all going to do anyway. Her siblings- sans Edward- herd Bella around the house for a grand tour. Esme insists on cooking.

Rosalie has to admit, it's kind of nice.

...

"So," Bella says, a week later as they follow a well-worn path behind the Cullen house. "What are we doing?"

Rosalie looks up ahead at the small meadow just beyond the treeline. "It's sunny today."

"Yeah, but- Hey! That's not an answer." Bella rushes to catch up with her, winded by the time she slides her hand into Rosalie's. "How are you not out of breath?"

Rosalie looks back at her and smiles slightly before letting go of her hand and stepping into the sunlight. She lifts her arms in the sun, saddened like always that she can no longer feel its heat. She turns around to gauge Bella's reaction, just a little bit floored to see the look of bewilderment on her face.

Bella flounders and stumbles into the meadow. " Babe, you're- you're sparkling!"

Rosalie laughs.

Bella reaches out and touches her arms, amazed. Rosalie closes her eyes at the contact and tilts her head back toward the sky. If she really concentrates, she can almost feel the sunlight. Phantom warmth.

"You're like the most beautiful woman on the planet. You know that, right?" Bella says, sliding her hands to her waist, grounding her.

"Yes."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Anyway… You sparkle?"

"Right, I guess it's not that self-explanatory."

Bella squeezes her waist and lifts one hand the thread it through her hair. "Mm. You can explain it to me later."

Bella Swan kisses her in the sunlight, mouth soft against her own. Rosalie grabs a fistful of Bella's flannel and pulls her closer and closer. It feels electric, a taut cord humming with tension. Bella makes a soft noise, and Rosalie's dead heart flutters.

Bella pulls back and presses her forehead to Rosalie's. "Woah."

...

Three months after Bella kisses her in the meadow, Rosalie realizes something. They're studying together at the kitchen table at Bella's house, surrounded by old photos of Bella and Charlie and a few of Bella with some boys from the Quileute reservation-

Rosalie stills and Bella pulls out her earbuds. She's been listening to a playlist Edward made for her as a sort of apology for keeping his distance. "Everything okay?"

"You… You grew up here."

"Yeah. Lived here until I was like six, and I've spent every summer here since. Why?"

Rosalie shakes her head. Of course. "You didn't need that tour at all, did you?"

Bella smiles and kisses her cheek. "Nope."