Bella's Babe

61) Sunrise Eyes Part 1

. AU/AH/OOC/

Bella/Rosalie pairing

Rating: M
Genre: Romance/ Femslash

A/N: I don't own anything you recognize, and Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight.

The first time I saw her was like the first time I saw the sun.

She drew me in like a light in the darkness, glowing and radiating warmth in the cold black of night.

I should have known from the moment my eyes locked on her wondrous form that my life was never going to be the same. In that instant, as I stared at her from across the crowded room of yet another obnoxious Frat House party, everything else around me ceased to be. There was no more shouting, no more music, no more drunk and stumbling bodies pushing past me to the keg - there was only her.

I watched dazedly from my usual place against the wall, clutching my half-empty plastic glass of water in a now-trembling hand, transfixed by everything that she was.

Her long blonde hair cascaded in waves of spun gold down her back, bouncing and swaying with every toss of her head as she laughed. The creamy texture of her smooth skin contrasted starkly with her dusty pink lips, and even across the distance, the bright blue of her eyes shone like a clear morning sky. She had a perfectly balanced face and a long, graceful neck, leading down to a tall, slender body that curved delicately everywhere a woman's should.

She was magnificent.

The fitted black t-shirt she wore accentuated her full bust and trim waist, allowing me to see a tiny sliver of her hips above the distressed denim jeans clinging to her long, slim legs. Modest silver hoops adorned her ears, and dozens of shiny silver bracelets that swung and tinkled softly as she gestured animatedly in conversation circled both her delicate wrists. On her feet was a pair of red patent-leather stilettos, with her perfectly pedicured toes peeking out the front.

I had never seen anyone so stunning in all my life. That should have been my first clue...

It wasn't only that I had never looked at another woman that way before, because that in itself was enough to set my mind reeling. What really got me was that in all my twenty-three years, I had never looked at anyone that way.

I was by no means naïve or inexperienced, having dated my share of attractive, well-mannered men. I had kissed, touched, sucked and even fucked numerous times, but it was always empty. I never actually felt anything for any of them. There were no butterflies, no sparks, no mind-blowing orgasms that left me trembling and panting for breath. As hard as I tried to feel it - there was just nothing in it for me.

After my last failed attempt to find the passion in a relationship, I had grudgingly resigned myself to the fact that I simply wasn't a sexual being. I could look at a man and see that he was attractive, and I could enjoy spending time with him and the companionship we had. But when he held my hand as we walked, or kissed me goodnight at my door, or spread my legs and pushed himself inside me...I was dead.

It certainly wasn't how I wanted or even expected my life to be, but that's what it was, and I had come to accept it.

Then I saw her.

A sharp elbow to my ribs interrupted my obsessive staring, and I reluctantly tore my eyes away from her to look questioningly at my best friend, Alice.

"He's hot, huh?" she said, waggling her dark eyebrows and grinning at me meaningfully.

I looked at her in confusion for a moment, and then followed her gaze as she turned her head to look back out across the room. It was then that I first noticed the man standing in her group.