𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒, emmett cullen

1 - HOME SWEET HOME ✓

CHAPTER 1 || FORKS, WASHINGTON

THE PERIWINKLE FABRIC OF HER BACKPACK'S HANDLE FRAYED MERCILESSLY, the strand only growing bigger with every tug until she rendered her attempts futile, huffing childishly. The toe of her berry red converse collided repetitively with her empty dresser, fingertips drumming melodically along its surface with lips jutted in a pout. Brooke's room was officially unrecognizable. Remnants of multicolored tac blotched the walls otherwise untouched light teal paint, barren of the frames that'd once plastered its walls. Her bed was bare, comforter and pillows already stored away in the attic with bedding hidden in trash-bags beside it, for storage. The closet was deserted bar a couple loyal coat-hangers that hung idly, sadly honestly, from the cleared pole. Even her plush, mustard colored rug was rolled and stood steadily upright in the corner. Brooke eyed the stripped windowsill, eerily clear of all of her mundane knick-knacks and clutter.

Her mothers erratically high-pitch shriek echoed throughout the household, yelling for Brooke to make an appearance as the sixteen-year-old Swan trudged, begrudgingly down the stairs; she didn't take it lightly, being rushed. Her mother, Renee, rushed between rooms. Well, doorways, she'd yet to choose a room to enter fully as she pranced from entryway to entryway, mousy brown strands framing her heart-shaped face messily with wisps poking her rapidly flicking baby blue eyes. Brooke arched an eyebrow at her beloved, slightly harebrained, mother before her attention was diverted to her older sister and step-father.

The pair shuffled indoors, still part awkward despite having lived under the same roof for a prolonged amount of time; Brooke supposed it was just Bella's shy nature that deterred Phil's extroverted approach, the seventeen-year-old appearing fearful to those whom hadn't looked into her doe-eyes long enough to understand that her gaze was always that soft and her tone that gentle. The younger Swan hopped off of the last couple of stairs and onto her sisters unsuspecting back, before quickly regretting her decision as Bella's pair of left-feet sent them sprawling against the hardwood floor of their living room. Brooke glared daggers at her older sister, partly playful, partly irritated; despite knowing the right disappeared with her choice to launch herself onto her world-renowned klutz of a sister.

"Remind me that jumping on you is a horrible idea," Brooke grumbled, staggering to her feet before assisting her sister to hers, snorting slightly when the older brunette stumbled ever-so-slightly, earning a mockingly stern warning glance from her younger sister.

"Remember that jumping on me is a bad idea," Bella reminded flatly, brushing her hair from her face from where it'd fallen during the collision. Brooke glared.

Brooke mutely assisted her step-father in packing their vehicle, scoffing with mirth when he arrogantly lifted her backpack before grunting beneath its weight. Renee's hand brushed her youngest daughters shoulder upon passing before facing the pair with arched eyebrows.

"Mom, don't start," Brooke breathed, shaking her head as Renee began her speech on the pair not having to attend Forks, Washington to live with their father if they didn't want to. The younger Swan didn't mind, in the slightest, not grieving the humidity and sunshine that Arizona brought their ghostly pale complexions nor where she fearful for their arrival as unlike her older sister, Brooke had continued to attend yearly Christmas' and alternate birthdays and summers between her parents.

Perhaps that was why Renee regarded Bella more in regards to her worry for her daughters migration.

Brooke rolled her eyes fondly, "Mom, this is dad we're talking about. Plus, Forks is great when you get past the rain. Bella's only being weird because she liked to ditch me every holiday when I went to visit dad," She spared her older sister a pointed look, pursing her lips mockingly as Bella groaned.