Here's another! Please enjoy. (Sorry again for not updating The Call, I think part of me doesn't want it to end, as with any story I write. :D )

P.S. Not Stephenie Meyer. :(

EdPOV

Alice, Jasper, and I sat in stony silence in the living room.

The lights were turned off; the atmosphere was one of mourning.

Because that's what we were doing, we were mourning.

Alice sat on Jasper's lap, and he was pulling her close.

His lips rested on her spiky, midnight hair. His eyes were closed tight, and his body shuddered every so often. From the pain above us.

Alice, too, sat with her eyes closed, breathing deeply.

I stared at the floor, the ceiling, the coffee table, deep in thought.

We listened to the harsh sobs that sounded from upstairs.

We heard the soothing voice above us, comforting the person in pain.

It was that day, which came around every year.

It came when the blankets off snow frosted the surface of the Earth, unless we were somewhere warm at this time of year.

The darkness came early on this day, as if it too, were mourning.

For on this day, so many years earlier, one of the world's most beautiful angels was turned into a monster, because of monsters.

The anniversary of Rosalie's death.

This day was one of the hardest of all.

On this day, I put aside my differences with Rosalie and we came to a mutual understanding. Even if she was in too much pain to take notice of this.

Maybe it was because she was my sister of sorts, and I loved her. Maybe it was because I sympathized, I felt that she should be sympathized for.

Or maybe it was because I could empathize in a way; I could hear what she was thinking.

And it was a hell of sorts.

This day acted as a sort of time machine for Rosalie. As if she was Cinderella, living happily, having the time of her existence, loving the man that loved her back, and when the clock strikes twelve… poof. Back to the painful memories, of her human existence, and some time after.

This would of course, place Carlisle in the roll of the fairy godmother, a seriously humorous analogy. But this was no laughing matter.

Rosalie didn't want the memories to come back, she wanted them to be gone, forever. All she wanted was peace, to live in happiness for the rest of her existence with Emmett, and us, her family. That was all she wanted.

But apparently it was too much to ask for.

Every year, on this day, Rosalie's carefully constructed façade would fall. In that strong, witty, passionate woman's place would be her more vulnerable self, the self that every year she believed was gone.

It was getting somewhat better though, as we all waited for the memories of her existence to continue to fade, it helped that Emmett was there. He had been there for her, he had taught her how to be herself again, how to love again.

He was the only one that she allowed to see her like this, although we all wanted to be there, to comfort her.

She has much pride, and guards it carefully. She believes that if she has this pride, she will not be seen as weak, as pitiful. But she needs to learn that everyone has weaknesses, every one had bad memories, a painful past.

Esme and Carlisle were out, hunting most likely. They used to be here, but had started leaving on this day, some years ago.

It was too painful for Esme to be here, though she denied this pain. She said she wanted to be here for Rosalie, for her daughter.

But Rosalie sided with the rest of us. She didn't want Esme, her mother, the one person who could actually empathize with her, to be in pain.

And many still believed that Rosalie is arrogant, selfish, stubborn.

She isn't. Most of the time anyway.

I turned my thoughts back to happenings upstairs. The sobbing had ceased, and we could now hear Emmett murmuring, "It's okay, Rosie. Just let it out. You can cry. He can't hurt you anymore. He's long dead, certainly rotting somewhere in the pits of hell for what he did to you. Earth's personal angel…"

I tried not to listen to their thoughts. I struggled to make my own first and foremost, until their thoughts were merely a buzzing in my head, almost inaudible.

I mused on the relationship of Emmett and Rosalie.

Many, including myself, sometimes assumed that the relationship was only physical. That that was all there was to it, a physical love, a physical attraction. Solely lust.

But there was so much more to it than that.

Rosalie had saved Emmett from death itself. I suppose in that aspect she truly was an angel. But Emmett had saved Rosalie from herself, her memories. Her past.

He had been there, right by her side, throughout every one of her struggles. Rosalie had been in much pain when she first met Emmett. She was merely a shell of what she had been, and what she had been today.

She blamed her struggle's on herself at first, claiming that it was her fault for everything that had happened to her. She tried to act like she didn't, but I could not be fooled. After all, I could easily see through every one of her facades.

She blamed herself for her human memories, the memories of Royce, the memories of killing him and his companions. Because even the murder memories haunted her.

She didn't regret them, no, but they did haunt her. She knew it hadn't been the wisest decision, and she felt horrible, like she really was a monster. And she still didn't regret doing it. It had been her closure.

And maybe it had been a good thing after all, and not an act merely of vengeance. Maybe she had helped to spare another's life, a woman's, or girl's, innocence. Maybe history would have repeated itself, with another victim in mind. But the memories still haunted her.

Emmett, as she herself believed, was helping to make the memories fade, replacing them with some of her new life, with us, and with Emmett. As a new person, a usually insightful, beautiful, and wonderfully happy person.

I think we all hoped that eventually, as years and years passed, the old memories would be overridden with the good, happy ones. And Rosalie would finally be at peace with herself, and her past.

That day couldn't come soon enough, because I hated to see her pain.

And I knew it nearly tore Emmett apart, especially since he could not protect her from her past. All he could do was to help make a better future for his Rose, his wife.

His beloved.

I hope everyone liked, especially for everyone wishing for me to do a musing of their relationship in Edward's POV. I'm sorry if it was angstier (I don't think that's even a word...) than you expected, but this is what I came up with. I would seriously love it if you could give me your opinion on this, or even give me some of your own insight of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship. I am personally more obsessed with Jasper and Alice, but I love every couple in Twilight. So tell, me what you think! :D

-Ember

P.S. I am still working on a possible continuation chapter of Mistletoe and Murder, so this doesn't mean I won't do it. Thanks for reading and please review! :D