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My Angel

Rosalie is Emmett's angel. A/N: You'll need this for awhile.

This does not belong to me, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

1. Frustration

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 706   Review this Chapter

"If Carlisle and Rosalie, my angel, were vampires, how bad could it be?" Emmett said to Bella. Even though he, Edward, and Bella were downstairs in our living room, I could hear what they were saying all the way up in the almost-all white room I shared with Emmett.

"So you see, hell's not so bad if you get to keep an angel with you," he continued. I heard a loud crash as something -- or someone -- fell. Emmett laughed and the sound of his footsteps heading for the stairs echoed off the pale, open walls of our house.

I sighed. How could he possibly think that I was an angel? Even then...he was my angel. I was tired of being pushed toward Edward. He was my brother and pretty much my best friend. I never thought of him in that way.

The echoes faded into footsteps and the door swung open, revealing my Emmett, smiling with his caramel-colored eyes glowing with laughter. He strode around to the other side of the bed, pausing to glance at my frustrated expression reflected in the window. His eyes met mine and his expression changed.

"Rose," he murmured, "your eyes are black again." He cringed as the rage rose up inside me and shined in my eyes.

So what if you can see the darker side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become. Help me believe, it's not the real me. Somebody help me change this animal.

"Sorry," he whispered, his lips pressed to my ear. I sighed again and he pulled me intto his cold, strong chest. I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

"Blue," I whispered.


"My eyes were blue."


"And they didn't change color when I was thirsty. Didn't show that I was a goddamned animal," I practically snarled.

"Rose," he whispered. He trailed his fingertips along my jaw, comforting me somewhat. He sensed my lack of comfort and lowered his face until it was less than an inch away from mine, our noses touching.

"Mine were gray," he murmured, his lips moving against mine, which were pulled into a gimace. He could tell that I was obviously still seething. His lips pressed into mine and I knew that he could feel the raw fury leave me.

"Shh...my angel..." He spoke the words so softly that I knew only I could hear. But my short moment of peace was instantly replaced with the same hideous anger from before. He felt it return and moved his lips to my ear. I pushed him away, but he pulled me closer. A vicious snarl rose in my throat, despite his comforting hands tracing the bumps of my spine.

"I'm no fucking angel!" I growled. He cringed again at the sheer rage provoked by his words. "How could you possibly think I was?" I tugged myself out of his grasp to stare at him.

His beautiful golden eyes smoldered.

"I'm a fucking monster! Can't you see that? We're damned to a life of darkness and you're completely fine with that? Tell me how that's even possible!"

He was silent for a while, studying my expression.

"You're wrong," he answered finally. In response to my quizzical look, he continued, "You're my angel because you saved me. It has nothing to do with what we are. You saved me, and for that, you will always be my angel."

I started to say, "Emmett --" but he cut me off.

"I can live this way because I have you, my love. You've kept me alive since I saw you, my angel. You are my life, my existence, my eternity...My Rosalie," he whispered, his voice noticeably lower and so soft I could hardly stand it. All of my anger was lost in his beautiful voice.

"You will always be my angel. You are my life, my existence, my eternity." I paused. "My Emmett."

His eyes smoldered again. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. He said something every time our lips parted.

"My angel," he whispered. "My angel."

I can fly, but I want his wings. I can shine, even in the darkest, but I crave the light that he brings. Revel in the songs that he sings. My angel...