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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.

8. Triste

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1259   Review this Chapter

"You have to get to the surprise!" Maybe I was too excited for my own good, but her shock hurt me a little bit. I don't know why though. This was the eighth time I'd proposed to Rosalie, but each time I got a little bit more nervous and she got a little bit more emotional.

"Emmett," she breathed, "it's...gorgeous." I met her gaze and her eyes burned with nothing but pure passion. I could have sworn I felt my heart beat one single, jagged beat.

"So, what do you say?" I asked nervously.

"What do I say to what?" she replied, smiling coyly.

I glanced at the platinum banded ring that had a perfect, clear-cut diamond in the center, framed by two smaller platinum bands -- and then back at her.

"Oh. That," she said. "You never asked me anything." Her eyes flickered mischieviously.

"Are you serious?"

She shot me a look. "Yes. I'm deadly serious."

"Fine, then." I shoved the glass-topped table out of the way and knelt down in front of her. I unlocked the grip her fingers had on the box and then held it out to her. I fought a grin and met her gaze, making sure I had her full concentration.

"Rosalie, there are no words to describe how I feel about you. You are my angel and my everything. I am yours to bend and break, or leave. I'm your...doll, if you will. I love you and there's nothing you can do about it. I can't think of anything I'd rather do than spend the rest of my eternity with you. And so now I ask, will you marry me, Rosalie?"

She was silent for a moment, and then she pulled the ring out of the box. I took it from her and slid it over her pale, thin finger. She held her hand up to her eyes and I could see the diamond glint silver in contrast to her golden irises. I looked at her hopefully. She stood up and so did I, my eyes never leaving her face, waiting for a reaction.

"Oh Emmett!" she whispered. "I love you more than anything I could ever imagine. Of course I'll marry you!"

I picked her up effortlessly and spun her around as she laughed. She collapsed against me and her long hair flopped over mine. She was still giggling softly as I carried her upstairs, back to our room.

"Put me down!" she giggled -- I fell back onto the bed and pulled her against my chest. She leaned her head against my neck and sighed.

"You know Edward wants us to go to prom with him and Bella, right?" I asked. I could feel her muscles tense and her teeth click together.

"No," she growled.

"Well, I think we should go."

"Why the hell do you think that?" she snapped, her moment of peach and happiness long gone.

"I think he needs the support...Alice and Jasper are going." I pressed my lips to hers lightly and she calmed down somewhat.


"What are you going to wear?" I questioned, somewhat interested.

"Do you know how gay you sound right now?" she laughed. I kissed her forehead.

"I was just wondering." I moved my lips to the hollow behind her jaw and drew a line with my nose up to her lips, but stopped there, because she started to speak.

"I think I'm gonna wear that blue, frilly one Alice brought back from Fashion Week in Paris," she whispered.

I pouted. "But I like the red one."

"You know how much fabric that has?"

"The neckline would almost reach your waist and the back is non-existent, so I'm going to say...barely any."

"Is that why you want me to wear it?" she asked, fighting back a smile.

"And if it is?"

"Then I just might have to wear it."

"I'll be waiting for it."

She laughed, but stopped abruptly. "Someone's outside the house," she whispered. She pulled herself out of my arms and we both sat up.


The muscles in her arms and across her bare shoulders tightened.

"I don't know...She feels like...she's connected to some sort of cat in an...almost supernatural way..."

"Rose, we're 100-year-old vampires and we're at war with a pack of teenage, Native American werewolves. What could possibly be supernatural?"

"She's a shapeshifter," she growled.

"Not a vampire?" I asked. She jumped up and headed for the door.

"She's from the Triste era." She flung the door open and took off down the stairs.

"What?" I called after her. I ran down the stairs, not knowning that she had stopped at the bottom. She was just an inch from my face and she threaded her hands through my belt loops before she explained hurriedly.

"Right before I was changed, there was a vampire named Triste. As the story goes, he fell in love...with a snow leopard. There were poachers coming after her, so he changed her."

"But I thought -- "

"You can't change animals -- normally -- but Triste was...different somehow. It was his gift: he could read animals' minds. The effects of the change made him totally connected to the leopard. He could shapeshift into any cat in the animal kingdom, his eyes turned gray, and those characteristics were transferred to everyone he later changed. The person outside is one of his fledglings, and so was my changer."

"Does that mean...?"

"Yes...and now. I am a Triste, but only to a point. I was initially bitten by another Triste, but only a bite like Bella's. Carlisle took over, so my eyes aren't gray and I can only shapeshift sometimes."

"When can you -- "

"Shapeshift? I can only shapeshift when I feel what he felt when he tried to kill me."

"What was that?"

"Rage. And then jealousy. And finally, nothing."


"Nothing," she repeated. She pushed past me and ran out the kitchen door to meet our guest.

"Stay safe, my angel," I whispered. I heard a snarl. Most definitely Rosalie. And then a weird wind-like sound. Then I heard Rosalie say something and then a...meow. Meow? Hell. She really did mean a cat... I walked closer to the door so I could hear what they were saying.

"Victoria! STOP. I don't want to have to kill you." I could hear the fear in Rosalie's voice. No one scares my angel, and I mean no one. So I flung the door open. Rosalie whipped her head around and met my eyes. The fear in them would have been masked to anyone who didn't know her like I did.

Victoria, I guessed, took cruel advantage of Rosalie's distraction and pounced. Rosalie screamed and hit the ground hard. The large tiger -- tiger? -- scratched and thrashed at Rosalie as she lay unconscious on the ground. I don't know what happened then. I lost it.

I pinned her down, breaking both of her shoulders and arms. She shifted back to her human form and opened her eyes to glare at me. It took a second to register who I was looking back at. Rosalie whimpered and I stared at the wild, red-haired female from the meadow.

"That little Triste bitch is lucky you were watching, isn't she?" Victoria hissed.

And if the sun comes up will it tear the skin right of our bones? And then as razor-sharp white teeth rip out our necks, I saw you there. Someone get me to a doctor, someone get me to the church where they can pump this venom-gaping hole. And you must keep your soul like a secret in your throat and if they come and get me....put the spike in my heart.