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img123/4131/fallenbannerld6.png Edward said it himself: "Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon sometimes." Emmett didn't mean to. He just...couldn't control his instincts.

Well. Kaiwynn said I had to write a new fic. And here it is. It is.. 5:23 A.M. Same as with my other fics, if you like it, I"ll keep going. If not...then I stop. Fair enough? So..to let me know that you like it, review!!

2. Comfort

Rating 5/5   Word Count 758   Review this Chapter

I had left Emmett towards the mouth of the woods and then gone off to my favorite spot. I couldn't hear him in the forest as I neared the house, so I figured he had gone home. I quickened my pace, enjoying the feel of the wind blowing through my tangled hair.

I reached the house, speeding through the fornt door and up stairs in the direction of out shared room. I stopped short at the door. I could hear the shower, blasting and hot. The heat radiated all the way out into the hallway and became even stronger as I entered the room. I stepped into the bathroom and the steam poured from the shower, swirling around my ankles. I looked for the pile of Emmett's clothes, but couldn't find them.

"Emmett?" I called, sniffing for his distinct scent. He was in here, but something was different.

I tugged the greenish plastic back from the shower. Emmett was curled up against the tile wall, allowing the scalding water to hit his ducked head and drench his clothes.

"Em?" I asked, confused and startled.

He looked up then, crimson eyes locking with mine. I stifled a gasp, but still jumped backward.

"Shit, Emmett! What did you do?!"

He hung his head, resting it on his knees. I drew in a deep breath, trying to compose myself. After an eternity of deep breathing and mental freak-outs, I finally swung my leg over the edge of the tub, nudging his legs. He stretched them out, slowly watching my face the entire time. I sat down, ignoring the burning water, curling my legs underneath me and snuggling into his wet chest. His arms locked around me, vice-tight and desperate.

I brushed my fingers along his ears, stroking his soaking wet curls. He buried his face into my hair, violent sobs wracking his huge form. His shoulders shook even as I rubbed my hands along them.

"Shhh, Emmett. Shhh. It's okay, love," I whispered.

He hugged me tighter, chest still heaving. I loosened his grip, pulling the hem of his soaked T-shirt up his torso and over his head. The wet fabric clung to his skin, but I managed to get it off and slung it over the nearby hamper. He gripped me closer again, my cheek pressing against his now warm chest.

"Rose-Rosalie. Wha-What have I done?" he choked out, voice cracking vulnerably.

"Emmett. I-" I struggled for words. He was still Emmett. I still loved him. He just slipped up. He was the same. "I love you," I finished.

"I love you too," he said, the words coming out strangled.

I don't remember how long we stayed there. But eventually, once the water turned frigid, I turned the shower off. I helped him up, keeping my grip on his hands as I guided him over to the bed. He sat on the edge, frozen and focusing on a spot on the wall. His wet jeans were soaking through the layers of blankets on the bed. I kneeled on the ground in front of him, trying to meet his eyes.

"Emmett. You need to take those off, they're getting the blankets wet." He didn't respond for awhile.

"You take them off, Rose. My arms are numb." He finally met my eyes, expresssion serious.

I sighed, reaching for the top button, fingers brushing his feverish, white stomach. I pulled the other two buttons through the buttonholes and then gripped the waist, sliding them down his pale, muscled legs. He didn't react. I tossed the jeans onto the hamper with the shirt.

He closed his eyes as I stood up and strode across the room toward the dresser. I pulled open the top drawer, pulling out a pair of his boxers. I handed them to him when I reached the bed again.

"Those too." He glanced at me again, eyes pleading.

"I don't think I can feel anything anymore," he whispered, eyes closing again.


"Try it. Prove me wrong," he challenged.


I ran my fingers along the top of his boxers, pulling them down. My wrists brushed his hips and ankles as I pulled the dry ones onto his legs. He never opened his eyes.

"I told you," he murmured.

I refused to accept that assessment. I seized his face with two hands and kissed him. I moved my lips urgently against his, pulling the bottom one into my mouth. My tongue slid along his teeth and he finally whimpered.

"See? You're wrong. You're still Emmett and you most definitely can feel," I breathed.

He was silent for a long moment.

"I hope you're right."