In restless dreams, I walked alone
Title: In restless dreams, I walked alone
Pairings: Edward/Rosalie, implied E/B, J/B
Word Count: 524
Spoilers: If you've read anything Twilight, you're solid gold
Warnings: this is a NON-CANON fiction pairing!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There, you've been warned
Author's Note: Strangely enough, inspired by The Graduate, don't ask me how, I still don't know. Unbeta'd and comments welcomed, especially concrit.
She’s never been able to make a choice for herself. She didn’t choose to be beautiful, she didn’t choose to be made into a vampire, she didn’t even choose her husband. Everything in Rosalie’s life seems to have been determined far before she even had a chance to experience it. Frankly she’s tired of it.
Edward leaves five minutes before he’s supposed to walk down the aisle. He half scrawls the note to Bella, I’msorryohsosorrypleaseforgiveme, and hopes to God that Jacob Black takes what’s been his all along. It’s only when he reaches San Francisco that he realizes he’s been half-expecting Rosalie to be behind him the whole time. He boards the plane anyways.
The detective she hired sends her a note with an address typed neatly in black and white on it.
He’s afraid to admit it, but sometimes he misses Rosalie too much for someone who’s just supposed to be his sister. She’s all golden hair, sparkling skin and a smile full of hopehappinesslove, and he can’t imagine ever having given her up in the first place.
She leaves Emmett the next Tuesday at 7:02 exactly, kisses Esme at 7:05 and by 9:30 she’s flying high over the world, finally making a choice for herself. This one seems right.
Paris is full of rain. He seems to have left one hell just to enter another one.
She stands on the stoop for what seems like an eternity, but is more like two minutes. She runs through a thousand scenarios in her mind and curses herself a million times over for not reaching out the five inches to ring the doorbell.
He can’t believe she’s here, he’s sure it’s just another illusion of the girl he loves. “Rosalie?”
She senses his disbelief before she even heard him speak. Even after all this time, he’s the only one she’s completely attuned to.
He’s strangely nervous as he pulls her into the foyer. Her touch instantly thrills him and he’s never felt this way before about a girl. Bella had been all fevered promises and half grown delusions about what love should look like. Rosalie’s the real thing and it makes him even more afraid to be near her. It makes the next thing he says almost impossible. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you.” She pulls him in for a kiss and it’s everything a kiss with Edward should be.
He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. This is his sister, his best friend’s wife. “This is wrong.” Emotions are swirling through his body like nothing ever before. “This is wrong.”
She thinks he should have thought about that before he left his fiancée at the altar, all dolled up in a dress made of white lace and promises of eternal love. “There’s still a chance to go back.” The unspoken end of the sentence is left hanging between them. She’s gone from completely sure of herself to uncertain in less time than it took to fall in love with him in the first place.
He laughs quietly, happily. He kisses her again, and again, and again. “This is right.”
This is right.
Pairings: Edward/Rosalie, implied E/B, J/B
Word Count: 524
Spoilers: If you've read anything Twilight, you're solid gold
Warnings: this is a NON-CANON fiction pairing!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There, you've been warned
Author's Note: Strangely enough, inspired by The Graduate, don't ask me how, I still don't know. Unbeta'd and comments welcomed, especially concrit.
She’s never been able to make a choice for herself. She didn’t choose to be beautiful, she didn’t choose to be made into a vampire, she didn’t even choose her husband. Everything in Rosalie’s life seems to have been determined far before she even had a chance to experience it. Frankly she’s tired of it.
Edward leaves five minutes before he’s supposed to walk down the aisle. He half scrawls the note to Bella, I’msorryohsosorrypleaseforgiveme, and hopes to God that Jacob Black takes what’s been his all along. It’s only when he reaches San Francisco that he realizes he’s been half-expecting Rosalie to be behind him the whole time. He boards the plane anyways.
The detective she hired sends her a note with an address typed neatly in black and white on it.
He’s afraid to admit it, but sometimes he misses Rosalie too much for someone who’s just supposed to be his sister. She’s all golden hair, sparkling skin and a smile full of hopehappinesslove, and he can’t imagine ever having given her up in the first place.
She leaves Emmett the next Tuesday at 7:02 exactly, kisses Esme at 7:05 and by 9:30 she’s flying high over the world, finally making a choice for herself. This one seems right.
Paris is full of rain. He seems to have left one hell just to enter another one.
She stands on the stoop for what seems like an eternity, but is more like two minutes. She runs through a thousand scenarios in her mind and curses herself a million times over for not reaching out the five inches to ring the doorbell.
He can’t believe she’s here, he’s sure it’s just another illusion of the girl he loves. “Rosalie?”
She senses his disbelief before she even heard him speak. Even after all this time, he’s the only one she’s completely attuned to.
He’s strangely nervous as he pulls her into the foyer. Her touch instantly thrills him and he’s never felt this way before about a girl. Bella had been all fevered promises and half grown delusions about what love should look like. Rosalie’s the real thing and it makes him even more afraid to be near her. It makes the next thing he says almost impossible. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you.” She pulls him in for a kiss and it’s everything a kiss with Edward should be.
He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. This is his sister, his best friend’s wife. “This is wrong.” Emotions are swirling through his body like nothing ever before. “This is wrong.”
She thinks he should have thought about that before he left his fiancée at the altar, all dolled up in a dress made of white lace and promises of eternal love. “There’s still a chance to go back.” The unspoken end of the sentence is left hanging between them. She’s gone from completely sure of herself to uncertain in less time than it took to fall in love with him in the first place.
He laughs quietly, happily. He kisses her again, and again, and again. “This is right.”
This is right.