03 | light, rosalie hale

6.

Warning: rape

ROSALIE was uncertain as she stood in the doorway of Edward's room, the expression on her face one that was unconfident. Elexia placed a calming hand on the small of her back, assuring her.

"Of course," Bella responded, her tone holding shock. "Come on in."

Bella sat up from the couch– instead of the huge bed– making room for Elexia and Rosalie to sit.

"Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?" Rosalie inquired. "We didn't wake you or anything, did we?"

"No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk." Bella said, her voice almost having what Elexia thought was a hint of fear.

Rosalie laughed softly. "He so rarely leaves you alone," she spoke. "I figured I better make the best of this opportunity."

Elexia's eyes wandered to Bella's hands, which were anxiously playing with the blanket.

"Please don't think I'm horribly interfering," Rosalie uttered weakly. There was a certain sense of begging in her tone. She interlocked one hand with Elexia's, and then placed their hands in her lap, her other hand coming to cover them. She looked down at them. "I'm sure I've hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don't want to do that again."

"Don't worry about it, Rosalie. My feelings are great. What is it?" Bella asked.

A laugh left Rosalie's mouth once more, this one being awkward. "I'm going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human as long as possible – why I would stay human if I were you."

"Oh."

Rosalie smiled at Bella before sighing. Elexia stroked her smooth skin with her thumb comfortingly.

"Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?" she asked, motioning with her hand to her body.

Bella nodded at a slow pace, glumly. "He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to save you ." Bella shook slightly at her own words, deeply disturbed by what she was saying.

"Is that really all he told you?" Rosalie queried.

"Yes," Bella said, bewildered. "Was there more?"

Rosalie looked up at Bella once again, another smile on her face. It was grating and sharp, and Elexia hated that smile so much. The pain behind it hurt her heart.

"Yes," she said. "There was more."

Rosalie turned to look out of the window, taking deep, unnecessary breaths in order to calm herself. Elexia continued the movements of her thumb on Rosalie's skin and used her free hand to rub her thigh, her best efforts to ground her fiancée.

"Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It's not a happy one." Rosalie finally spoke, her tone vicious.

Bella nodded, slightly scared.

"I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was beautiful. My life was perfect." Rosalie began, her eyes still trained on the window. "My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a bank, something I realize now that he was smug about – he saw his prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor people, the ones who weren't as lucky. My father left me with the impression that they'd brought their troubles on themselves."

"It was my mother's job to keep our house – and myself and my two younger brothers – in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn't fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren't satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations – social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did."