The sharp scent of disinfectant hung in the air. Pale cream walls closed in under the faint hum of fluorescent lights, and the rhythmic beeping of a monitor broke the otherwise sterile silence.
Bella lay on a narrow hospital bed, the thin blanket doing little to keep out the chill seeping up from the vinyl mattress. Her temple throbbed in time with her heartbeat.
The door opened with a soft click.
Dr. Carlisle Cullen stepped inside, impossibly perfect even beneath the harsh lighting—his golden hair catching the glow, white coat immaculate, amber eyes calm yet watchful. He moved with a grace no ordinary doctor could possess.
"You're lucky," he said, his warm, even voice carrying a quiet reassurance. "Just a mild bump—no concussion." Leaning in, he shone a penlight into her eyes, then jotted down a few quick notes.
Behind him, Edward stood in his usual place near the wall, too still, too deliberate. His gaze never left Bella—intense, protective, and carrying something unreadable beneath the surface.
Outside the ward, Rosalie and Lucas waited. She kept stealing glances at him, studying his face as if trying to read something hidden there. Lucas noticed immediately.
"Just say what's on your mind," Lucas murmured, concern threading his voice as he watched her behavior.
The other Cullens glanced their way, listening without making it obvious.
Rosalie hesitated, her lips parting slightly before pressing together again. Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low and trembling.
"Lucas… if I told you I'm a monster… would you hate me?"
His brows rose slightly—not in fear, but in something softer. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Well, you're a beautiful monster. Why would I hate you?" he teased.
Rosalie blinked, caught off guard by the joke. But instead of offense, warmth bloomed in her chest. Somehow, his lightheartedness steadied her.
"Are you not afraid that… one day… I might kill you? Or…" her eyes lowered briefly, "eat you?"
When she looked back up, expecting fear, she found none. His eyes only held amusement, as if the thought itself was absurd.
"I trust you," he said simply. "You wouldn't do that to your fiancé, would you?"
Her jaw dropped slightly. "I'm talking seriously, and he's still making jokes? "she thought, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Alright, alright—no more jokes," he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender when he saw her glare.
Then his tone shifted, becoming steady and sincere. "Rosalie… whatever you are, it doesn't matter to me. To me, you're Rosalie—the one who's going to be my life partner."
He reached up, pulling down his hood and unwinding the scarf from his neck. The movement revealed his long, black hair tipped in crimson, fluttering faintly in the air, and the flame-like mark across his forehead. His earrings caught the light, completing a look that was striking, dangerous, and mesmerizing all at once.
Rosalie froze, stunned.
"Damn… he's on a whole other level than us," Emmett muttered, earning a silent nod from Jasper.
"He's got a cool tattoo on his forehead," Lisa said with open admiration.
"Yeah," Alice added with a bright smile, "he's a masterpiece."
Before Rosalie could gather her thoughts, Lucas caught movement from the corner of his eye—a man in a police uniform rushing past, cap in hand, disappearing into the ward.
That must be Charlie Swan… Bella's father, Lucas thought, before turning his focus back to Rosalie, who still looked dazed.
"Ohhh… Rosalie can't stop staring at her handsome, charming fiancé," Lucas teased, folding his arms.
That brought her back to reality, and she quickly looked away, cheeks flushing. "Ahem… let's get back to the topic."
Lucas chuckled. "Alright. The truth is… I already know you're not human. First—you're ice-cold to the touch. Second—you don't breathe. Third… I have something like an X-ray vision. I can see there's no blood in your body, and your organs aren't functioning at all."
Rosalie's eyes widened. "…What?"
The Cullens went completely still. Even Carlisle and Edward exchanged a sharp glance.
Lucas tilted his head, smiling as if the revelation meant nothing because he already know. "So… straight question. What are you?"
Rosalie's hands curled into fists. She met his gaze, searching for even a flicker of fear, but found none. Only certainty.
"I'm… a vampire," she said at last, though a storm of questions about his strange eyes churned in her mind.
.
.
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