Lavender
Title: Lavender
Author: Araya
Theme: Flower
Fandom : Twilight
Genre: Angst
Word Count : 705
Rating: G
He brings her flowers because it makes her feel alive again.
Not in the way that awakens you to the reality of the world; but in the ways of young love and courtships, of children and timed existence. Of course, he could never give her those things, despite how much he wishes he could, and therefore does not dwell upon it.
She does, however, and he tries so hard to understand.
Though, he cannot remember much of his time as a human; he is sure he has never been happier. The love, the joy, the laughter, (and certainly his timeless perfection), have all brought meaning to his existence. He has never dreamed that he would be so lucky. That this family would welcome him with open arms, flaws and all, and that he would be blessed with the most beautiful woman in the world.
His beautiful, brooding Rose.
Today he brings her lavender. It is his favorite because it reminds him so much of her; soft, wild, with an enticing aroma. He finds her in their bedroom and to no surprise, she is staring outside their window. He sits beside her and too, admires the view.
Twilight.
He sighs contentedly as he watches the sun dance across the sky, like a steady artist’s hand, painting the world with it’s magnificent beauty. He cannot help but appreciate that he has an eternity of this moment; and knows that he will enjoy it just as much tonight, as he will tomorrow.
She is the first to speak. “Are those for me?”
A small smile graces his lips as he turns to look into her golden, eyes. He cannot help but hold back a gasp. She is stunning. “They sure are.”
He hands them to her and she inhales their scent. “Thank you.”
They lapse into companionable silence and he wishes now, more than ever, that he could read minds like Edward. He knows what she is thinking, about the life she wishes she could lead, but he cannot help but feel a sense of nervousness. If she could, would she throw this life away? Become human again? Leave everything she has known and loved behind, including him?
A low growl escapes his lips before he can try to hide it and instantly regrets it. This is supposed to be about Rosalie. He is to only be trying to help her break out of her shell and see the wonders around her. ‘Give her time,’ Carlisle said. ‘She will come around.’
Years later, she hasn’t yet.
Her eyes find his and she raises a perfect, questioning, eyebrow and he knows he cannot deny her the truth. “What are you thinking?”
She is quiet again, eyes returning to the now darkened sky, and he feels panic rise in the back of his throat like bile. He fidgets unknowingly; that is until Rosalie places a delicate hand on top of his, and instantly he feels more relaxed. “I was thinking how nice it would have been to have children with dark, curly hair and dimples.” She reaches up with her other hand and brushes her fingers softly through his untamed tendrils.
He catches her hand in his, allowing her sweet scent to overcome him, and kisses her forearm gingerly. “Rose you know,” he begins but is cut off.
“I know Emmett. I know.” Her voice is so low, it is even quieter than a whisper. “But it is nice to dream.”
Her voice cracks on the last word and dry sobs emit from her beautiful bosom and he cannot take it anymore. Gently, he grasps the back of her head and kisses her deeply. He wants nothing more than to heal her wounds and tells her so.
“Rose, my beautiful angel.” He whispers as their naked entwined bodies cling hopelessly to one another. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help you. I only want to see you happy.”
She looks up at him and tries to hide a grimace behind a sweet smile and he finally understands.
He will never be able to fix her broken heart.
He can only help ease the pain for however long they exist.
He isn’t enough and he never will be.
Emmett doesn’t bring her flowers anymore.
Author: Araya
Theme: Flower
Fandom : Twilight
Genre: Angst
Word Count : 705
Rating: G
He brings her flowers because it makes her feel alive again.
Not in the way that awakens you to the reality of the world; but in the ways of young love and courtships, of children and timed existence. Of course, he could never give her those things, despite how much he wishes he could, and therefore does not dwell upon it.
She does, however, and he tries so hard to understand.
Though, he cannot remember much of his time as a human; he is sure he has never been happier. The love, the joy, the laughter, (and certainly his timeless perfection), have all brought meaning to his existence. He has never dreamed that he would be so lucky. That this family would welcome him with open arms, flaws and all, and that he would be blessed with the most beautiful woman in the world.
His beautiful, brooding Rose.
Today he brings her lavender. It is his favorite because it reminds him so much of her; soft, wild, with an enticing aroma. He finds her in their bedroom and to no surprise, she is staring outside their window. He sits beside her and too, admires the view.
Twilight.
He sighs contentedly as he watches the sun dance across the sky, like a steady artist’s hand, painting the world with it’s magnificent beauty. He cannot help but appreciate that he has an eternity of this moment; and knows that he will enjoy it just as much tonight, as he will tomorrow.
She is the first to speak. “Are those for me?”
A small smile graces his lips as he turns to look into her golden, eyes. He cannot help but hold back a gasp. She is stunning. “They sure are.”
He hands them to her and she inhales their scent. “Thank you.”
They lapse into companionable silence and he wishes now, more than ever, that he could read minds like Edward. He knows what she is thinking, about the life she wishes she could lead, but he cannot help but feel a sense of nervousness. If she could, would she throw this life away? Become human again? Leave everything she has known and loved behind, including him?
A low growl escapes his lips before he can try to hide it and instantly regrets it. This is supposed to be about Rosalie. He is to only be trying to help her break out of her shell and see the wonders around her. ‘Give her time,’ Carlisle said. ‘She will come around.’
Years later, she hasn’t yet.
Her eyes find his and she raises a perfect, questioning, eyebrow and he knows he cannot deny her the truth. “What are you thinking?”
She is quiet again, eyes returning to the now darkened sky, and he feels panic rise in the back of his throat like bile. He fidgets unknowingly; that is until Rosalie places a delicate hand on top of his, and instantly he feels more relaxed. “I was thinking how nice it would have been to have children with dark, curly hair and dimples.” She reaches up with her other hand and brushes her fingers softly through his untamed tendrils.
He catches her hand in his, allowing her sweet scent to overcome him, and kisses her forearm gingerly. “Rose you know,” he begins but is cut off.
“I know Emmett. I know.” Her voice is so low, it is even quieter than a whisper. “But it is nice to dream.”
Her voice cracks on the last word and dry sobs emit from her beautiful bosom and he cannot take it anymore. Gently, he grasps the back of her head and kisses her deeply. He wants nothing more than to heal her wounds and tells her so.
“Rose, my beautiful angel.” He whispers as their naked entwined bodies cling hopelessly to one another. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help you. I only want to see you happy.”
She looks up at him and tries to hide a grimace behind a sweet smile and he finally understands.
He will never be able to fix her broken heart.
He can only help ease the pain for however long they exist.
He isn’t enough and he never will be.
Emmett doesn’t bring her flowers anymore.