Though the night outside was unusually quiet, the two lovers inside could hear everything: the smooth intakes of breath they made, the slight shift in the floorboards when one of them moved, the stream that bubbled half a mile from their window. They could hear the subtle sound of the wind rustling the trees, the wildlife that scampered along the forest floor, and, off in the distance, a car speeding along the freeway. They had exceptional hearing, exceptional sight, and exceptional speed, but that did not prevent them from having the same problems that any normal couple had. However this was no normal couple, for these beautiful two were vampires.
Emmett Cullen was sprawled out on the bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling looking bored. His mind was in the normal places mostly. Jasper had beat him in an arm wrestling match earlier that day, he was planning the rematch. Spring was coming around quickly, he was wondering how long he'd have with the grizzlies, and, this being the most unusual place for his mind to be, Bella Swan. He was thinking of Bella Swan.
She was upstairs now, in Edward's room. With Edward. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, then stutter, then stop, only to resume again. He could hear her breathing, coming in loud, ragged gasps. He knew that Edward didn't think he could go that far with her physically, and he wondered what they could be doing that would make her breathe like that. They couldn't be....his temper blackened as he thought of it. He shook his head. No, they couldn't be. But what on earth could they be doing?
Normally a very happy go lucky person, Emmett's temper was just starting to bubble, when his wife, for all intents and purposes, interrupted him.
"What's got you in such a bad mood?" Rosalie asked, though she already knew. She'd been with Emmett for almost eighty years, she didn't need to hear his thoughts to know exactly what he was thinking. She'd been sitting at her vanity, brushing out her hair, and feeling his mood turn darker every moment. More specifically, with every noisy breath that stupid Bella Swan took. Emmett was thinking of Bella.
Why on earth such a hideously plain creature would capture his attention at all was beyond her. It didn't make any sense that every man within fifty feet of her was uncontrollably drawn to the girl. She'd been nothing but trouble for as long as Rosalie had known her. The only man that hadn't wanted her for himself, her brother Edward, was madly in loved with the Swan girl. Carlisle thought of her as another daughter. Jasper was helplessly amused with her, and now, to add insult to injury, her own husband, her own Emmett, was upset because it sounded like she and Edward were being intimate upstairs! It was all becoming too much. She glanced in the mirror, to make sure she hadn't developed some terrible deformity in the past few moments, and waited for Emmett's reply.
"Jasper always beats me. He's not stronger. I know he's not stronger. I think he cheats. He makes me feel all warm and fuzzy till I don't want to pummel him anymore. I've gotta figure out a way to make him turn it off..." he grumbled. On the surface, this sounded like a perfectly acceptable thing for Emmett to be thinking about, unless you didn't know Emmett. If you knew Emmett, you'd know he didn't spend time thinking about confrontations. Had that really been what he was thinking, he'd have gone to find Jasper immediately (he was in the kitchen, reading a book), and blurted out his accusation before he'd even completely finished the thought.
But he wasn't going to find Jasper. He was laying here, with his hands under his head, looking pained. The expression on his face was so unusual for him that, no matter what the cause behind it (or how stupid it may be), she wanted to comfort him. She rose from the vanity, blonde hair cascading down passed her shoulders, like gold over her white robe, and even whiter skin. As she crossed the floor to lay with him, his brow furrowed, and he moved. In one fourth of a second, he'd moved from the bed to the door, and was staring at her disapprovingly. As if her touch, her very presence, was the last thing he wanted.
She stared at him, more vulnerable than anyone had ever seen her, willing him to come back to the bed. To come back to her. But he couldn't. His head was clouded with the scent of Bella Swan, hands aching to touch skin like he knew he never could. The frown on his face went away, replaced by a smooth mask of indifference. He shrugged.
"I'm going for a run," he called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.
Rosalie stared after him for what seemed like a long time. She sat, just staring at the door he'd just walked out of, and the collapsed on the side of the bed, tearless sobs racking her body. Though she'd love to, she couldn't force herself to hate Bella Swan. It seemed that no one had ever really loved her the way she deserved to be loved. Apparently her beauty wasn't enough. Maybe there was really something wrong with her.
Insecurities she'd never voiced before plagued her, as she stared at the door, waiting for Emmett to come back, and listening to Bella's breathing even out in sleep. Envy washed through Rosalie. Oh, the things she would give for sleep.