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A Beauty's View (Rosalie POV)

[Pre-Twilight] You know Rosalie Hale/Cullen, vampire. These are her musings, taking place in a single Forks High lunch period. banner made my me!

First fan-fic. I haven't seen many stories from Rosalie's POV, and I wanted to shine a spotlight on the (generally) least-liked Cullen. One-shot.

1. Rosalie

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1083   Review this Chapter

E period ends, and my siblings and I file into the dreary Forks High School lunchroom. There are stares as usual, but it is my 102nd day at this establishment, and my fifth time through high school. Needless to say, I am used to the gawking. It is less obvious now, as people are fairly used to us, but teenage boys are ruled by their hormones and therefore cannot mask their expressions as well as the opposite sex.

Every high school is the same. My family has witnessed every kind of reaction to our appearances, and predictably, jealousy is the dominant emotion. I used to find it amusing when three or four emotions would flitter upon the average face as they glimpsed us, starting with disbelief and settling on jealousy/loathing/wariness. We are beautiful, but human instincts tend to detect an air of danger about us. It is by choice that we refrain from interacting with other students, bloodlust being a problem as well as companionship. Since we cannot stay in one place for more than around three years, creating emotional ties is not something we undertake.

As I move slowly down the lunch line, I rummage in my bag for my first prop of the period. I find my lunch money, pay the human, and carry my tray of food to where we have sat for the past 101 school days. I consider everything in this lunchroom to be a prop, a part of the play we are starring in. We do not eat the food we purchase, nor do we actually need to sit down. Obviously, keeping up a human appearance is vital. Students monitor us closely, no matter how much effort we exert into seeming average. One slip-up and the image we have carefully built up will be destroyed. Though we seem lovely, I do not believe that a majority of humans would respond well to what goes on behind the scenes.

Why is this school so important? My siblings and I certainly do not need to advance through high school again. It is not the school that means anything to us, but the location. Forks is the definition of typical: a small town, tucked away in the most Western region of the United States. It is also unique, that one factor being the annual rainfall for Forks. In this Washington settlement, the rainfall rate is over 100 inches per year. It is also easy for us to disappear into the abundantly green, misty forests when needed, though the sun shines rarely.

It is useful to be able to go out in the daytime without causing traffic accidents.

Carlisle, our father figure, is grateful that Forks is not too small to have its own regional hospital. There is almost nothing that pleases him more than being able to assist those who would otherwise perish; his magnified senses aid him significantly in his medical work. I am proud of him. Humans are grateful for him, too. He is like the sun in many ways, bringing light to the monotonous Forks.

We are all seated at the table now, in order. Emmett and I are holding hands under the table, Jasper and Alice next to us, gazing into each other's ocher eyes. Edward is seated at the end of the table, subtly shying away from our intimacy. He is probably having a silent conversation with Alice, answering her nonverbal questions. Edward, as always, has taken on the duty of monitoring our fellow students' thoughts, looking for signs of suspicion as to who we really are. Alice lazily searches the future, not concentrating fully. This routine is predictable and boring. It is my "senior" year and I cannot wait to graduate. Perhaps Emmett and I should plan another honeymoon post-graduation, to the Amazon maybe? Though they are coldblooded, wrestling with large snakes is always exciting. I remind myself to bring up the discussion with Em after school.

I sigh and turn to look out the window. It is only November, so the snow does not fall regularly yet, but it is raining. The darkened sky is comforting to me, and I find it more exciting than blue skies. I can easily hear most of the lunchroom talking about tentative picnics and ball games. Only in Forks do citizens schedule outdoor activities despite the incessant rain.

My reflection in the window is flawless and dazzling. I smirk at myself, because even after decades of sameness I am still vain. Emmett glances at me and grins, probably recalling our activities last night. I wink at him as a little reminder of what is yet to come tonight, and tomorrow night, and the rest of forever. Our emotions are stronger than those of a human, and therefore do not tire over time. Enthusiasm in our sexual life is just as steady as it was when we first met. Emmett, my monkey man. He is one of the only things about my existence that I care for, and as much as I wish I were human, I know that if I had died that horrible night I would have never met him.

I tear myself away from the window and study Edward instead. The permanently bored expression that he wears at school governs his features, and I worry about him for the first time in a while. I wonder if he will ever find his other half. He doesn't speak of it, but I know he wishes for a mate to complete him. He courteously stomachs our actions that take place in the house. I think it is harder for him to live with three pairs of vampires then he lets on. He busies himself with his piano or books, but I know he is tired of those routines. Our close friend Tanya in Alaska has always shown a preference for Edward, but he does not return the feelings. He'll find the right female someday soon, I hope.

The bell rings and we dump our food into the trash, part for our next classes, and continue down the road that is our never-ending lives. Our incentive to remain in this forsaken place is the convenience, support for Carlisle's passion, and the seclusion. We all appreciate our white house that is tucked into the woods; it is the only place that we can truly let go and be ourselves.

I make my way down the hall to French and busy myself with thoughts of what goes on after school.