Post by Rosalie Hale on Jan 2, 2009 0:09:27 GMT -5
Setting the blood-stained clothes ablaze and watching the fire with uneasy eyes, Rose listened to Carlisle talking to the man he was about to condemn to eternity. She recalled the softness, yet conviction, his words held. Rosalie's last human moments were difficult to bring up not just because of the horrid condition Carlisle had found her in, but also because most human memories were vague and blurry. She remembered not really understanding what he had said to her that night in the street as she watched the snowflakes tumble their way down, but she remembered how his voice sounded. The words may not have been the same, but she heard the vow in them as she had that night.
Rose tried to concentrate on the flames that were consuming the clothes she'd worn that day, bringing this man to Carlisle. Another string of worries and doubts struck her resolve.
but it is going to hurt more first… Forgive me.
The flames she saw before her eating away at her clothes was nothing compared to the intense pyre that the transformation was. Was she out of her mind? Is this what she had brought the man with the sweet face for? To burn him alive? To make him suffer the fiercest depths of pain? She remembered very vividly those few days of her transformation. The feeling of being trapped in some sort of purgatory, though she could not think of why. Bringing him to Carlisle would imprison him in the worst amount and variety of pain that no mortal could have conceived. She would forever be burdened by this choice today, but she would endure it to save him.
Her body tensed as her sensitive hearing picked up the subtle sound of Carlisle's razor sharp teeth slice through the man's throat. Rose's hand reflexively came up to trace the only scar that marked her perfect body, where Carlisle had bit her two years ago. The wind blew against her and towards the house, while she faced away. She took advantage and took in a lungful. It was mostly clean, but she still discerned the slight scent of the human in the air. Her throat instinctively erupted in a snarl. It took the remainder of her will to keep herself steady, facing away from the house, looking into the small pyre she'd created. "Sorry," she whispered, knowing Carlisle would hear her. "I'm in control, I promise."
Rose tried to concentrate on the flames that were consuming the clothes she'd worn that day, bringing this man to Carlisle. Another string of worries and doubts struck her resolve.
but it is going to hurt more first… Forgive me.
The flames she saw before her eating away at her clothes was nothing compared to the intense pyre that the transformation was. Was she out of her mind? Is this what she had brought the man with the sweet face for? To burn him alive? To make him suffer the fiercest depths of pain? She remembered very vividly those few days of her transformation. The feeling of being trapped in some sort of purgatory, though she could not think of why. Bringing him to Carlisle would imprison him in the worst amount and variety of pain that no mortal could have conceived. She would forever be burdened by this choice today, but she would endure it to save him.
Her body tensed as her sensitive hearing picked up the subtle sound of Carlisle's razor sharp teeth slice through the man's throat. Rose's hand reflexively came up to trace the only scar that marked her perfect body, where Carlisle had bit her two years ago. The wind blew against her and towards the house, while she faced away. She took advantage and took in a lungful. It was mostly clean, but she still discerned the slight scent of the human in the air. Her throat instinctively erupted in a snarl. It took the remainder of her will to keep herself steady, facing away from the house, looking into the small pyre she'd created. "Sorry," she whispered, knowing Carlisle would hear her. "I'm in control, I promise."