01 | dream, rosalie hale

7.

TOWARDS the end of the car ride back to Forks, Bella asked Elexia if they were going to be hanging out after; Elexia felt bad but she told her friend that she was tired and needed rest. Austin was at work when she got home, which gave her peace and quiet to think.

Wrapping herself tightly in her warm grey blanket seemed to be the only thing that would soothe Elexia's loud mind and aching legs. Her eyes fluttered closed; the rain drops smacking against the window was nice background noise to silence her mind's vile thoughts.

After a few minutes of listening to each drop of water get heavier and heavier, Elexia felt sleep wrapping its arms around her, her limbs getting heavier with the bullets of rain on the glass.

She didn't know how much later it was, but she awoke with a sudden start. Her mind, during her brief sleep, had been plagued with images of Rosalie Hale with fangs and dark eyes, terrifying Elexia. No matter how desperately she tried to tell herself that vampires were just fairytales, the nagging voice inside the depths of her mind made itself heard, telling her that Jacob's story was the truth.

She sat up in bed, her ears ringing for a few seconds. Her heart was beating so fast it sounded as if it was in a fist next to her head. She stood up as she decided she was going to change into pajamas. The jeans she was in were not going to be comfortable for her. The first thing she grabbed from her pajama drawer was a periwinkle colored night gown that fit her tightly and ended at her mid thigh. She didn't particularly like dresses - especially not for sleeping in - but this article of clothing was the softest she'd owned.

Once she was changed, her eyes caught on the mirror in front of her. Her intrusive thoughts had won her brain over again and her eyes drifted to her neck. She took her index and middle fingers and placed them on the pulse point of her throat. The soft thumping of the blood against her skin was a reminder of life, but it only reminded her of Rosalie Hale and how she was a supposed blood-drinker. A vampire.

As that word flashed across her mind, her heart jumped; pushing the blood harder and faster through her body. If Rosalie was a vampire. . . she must've heard Elexia's heart beat faster every time she came near her. Elexia shivered at the thought. She didn't know if she was terrified she was a potential meal to the girl she had a crush on, or embarrassed knowing that Rosalie must've heard how nervous she made Elexia. Vampires had enhanced hearing, right?

They weren't real. Rosalie and her family weren't vampires, she told herself.

But. . . she thought of how Rosalie was strong enough to lift her effortlessly off her feet. Rosalie was the same height as her and had just about the same build and she lifted her like she was a piece of paper. Elexia was sure she wouldn't be able to lift anybody like that, especially not so easily. Her back would break.

She thought of Rosalie's absolutely perfect face. How there was not a single feature on her entire body that didn't scream perfection. The same with her entire family. They were all perfectly symmetrical and absolutely beautiful. They were impossibly pale - a common trait of a vampire.

And their eyes. . . their eyes changed color - from obsidian black to honey gold. Elexia always found that weird, but now that she'd heard Jacob's story, she thought it could be related to the family's alleged vampirism. But what did it mean?

Bella had also said Edward was by her side the day of the car crash in seconds, when he had been across the parking lot right before. No one else had seen him there, not even Elexia. Speed was also a trait of vampires. Rosalie had also told Elexia she would be a bad friend for her. Her being a vampire must've had something to do with that.

Elexia squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She sounded insane. There was no such thing as vampires and the Cullen family was just regular, beautiful people. Rosalie was just a human girl. Vampires couldn't come out in the daytime either. The sun would burn them to smithereens of ash.