Pale Faces || Damon Salvatore

Four;

This would be why I'm never going to get married.

We've been at this goddamned shop for over three hours and she's been trying on over a hundred dresses and she still hasn't picked one. How difficult is it to choose your favourite and leave? It's just a dress after all. Of course I'm not going to say that to Alice — who spent an hour glaring at this Rosalie chick whenever she mentioned hurrying up a bit.

Rosalie's like Alice, I'm sure. I didn't even having to meet her to realise. The way Alice called her a sister and spoke of her family, sort of gave it away that they're a coven.

"This is the one." Bella's voice sounds from the changing room in front of us. Rosalie and I are sat on opposite sides of the ultra expensive red love seat, and Alice is stood up, running her perfectly manicured hands over the many wedding dresses in this store. I take a mouthful of the glass of champagne the woman handed to me when we walked through the door as Bella walks out from behind the curtain.

As much as I dislike my sister, even I can agree that this dress is better than the rest. It looks rather plain on the front, with no gems or much decoration. The sleeves are a beautiful lace pattern, and I see as she turns around to look in the mirror that there's lace on the back as well. It's figure hugging, and enhances her pale skin amazingly. She has her hair down at the moment, but Alice hurries around and pins it up, placing a veil in her hair with a tiara pin to add to the dress.

"Beautiful." Alice says, smiling at Bella in the mirror. She sends Rosalie a look, and Rosalie rolls her eyes before speaking up.

"She's right, you know." She keeps her voice emotionless; I applaud her for that, "It really is beautiful." I notice she doesn't say you really are beautiful, instead commenting on the dress. Is it wrong of me to find that satisfying?

Bella turns around, smiling appreciatively at Rosalie. She then turns her attention to me, her eyes a little nervous — her hands stroke the front of the dress, she's trying to find a way to distract them from shaking. It's one of her ticks, the ticks that tell when she's nervous or scared. I know all of her ticks, every single one. It's how I used to pass my time when we were younger and I was being ignored. I'm rather observant.

"What do you think Ellie? Do you like it?" She glances around the room as she speaks, and I realise suddenly that my opinion on this means a lot to her. God knows why, she's spent her entire life not caring what I think about anything. It could be because it's her wedding, and as siblings we're supposed to be a big part of each other's wedding and she just wants everything to be perfect per usual. Or, it could be because she's seen my closet, and the things I wear now, and my opinion as someone who's classed as fashionable matters just because of that.

I look her up and down, deciding to at least pretend to be interested, "It looks great Iz. Honestly, that's the dress."

A grin breaks out on her face. I understand now that if I'd said I didn't like it, despite Rosalie and Alice's opinion on it, she would've changed the dress immediately. Apparently I have a bigger effect on her than I thought.

Finally we can leave. The cashier wraps up everything in these really fancy bags and hands them over to Alice, who rushes outside to put them in the car. I don't know what she thinks is going to happen to them in the few seconds of calmly exiting the shop, but she isn't going to risk anything apparently. Although I'm not surprised — I saw the price tag on that thing.

Rosalie bids us goodbye as she climbs into her car and drives away. Alice asks Bella if she'd like to go get some food, or just go straight back to the house. Bella sends me a glance as if asking what I want to do, and I shrug in return. What does she expect me to do? It's her vampire friend. I won't eat anything, not food anyway, I'm not particularly fond of human food.