Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine, neither is the fun-filled vacation spot of Disney World. But you'll never guess what I do own – a box of Zingers. Chocolate snacks. That's right – I own my chocolate addiction.

Well, this one shot of Emmett/Rosalie was inspired by All Time Low's "Remembering Sunday' and I did the best I could when writing late at night and I'm sticking to that. :P

Note: Flashbacks are in italics!

Hope you like it!!

An empty bottle of beer crashed to the wooden floor as the thin blanket was moved from around a solid body, clanking when it met others that left the groggy man moaning from a fading headache. His burly hands met the wall as the effort to stand empowered the black haired to stand on the cold ground and shuffle to the small dresser where he struggled to place a clean shirt over his head, a smile breaking the smooth lines of his face when he was victorious.

Picking up the discarded jeans that were thrown over the back of a chair he zipped them up with ease and padded over to his small kitchen to grab a drink of water, the only liquid other than disgusting forgetfulness he would swallow in two days.

The once confident and cocky Emmett McCarty was no more. His humbled head turned to meet the blaring numbers that read 4.43 am, sighing and rubbing his face after taking in the glowing figures. He raised the small glass to his lips and downed the rest of the cold, refreshing water before shaking his head vigorously and walking to his tennis shoes that were perched beside what was now the only thing in his life – Flapjack, the chipper goldfish.

"It's going to be an early day, FJ," the tenderness in his voice rang through as Emmett sprinkled flakes into the large bowl. "I'll see you later."

He quickly laced up the shoes and grabbed a light jacket to fend off the morning chill then left the small yet airy apartment, locking it securely. In four bounds he was down the stairs from his second story pad and walking on the watered concrete sidewalk, disrupting only the cold air with the warm breath he breathed in and out.

Four blocks later the brawny man halted his steps, peering across the street to an IHOP that was a happy memory for him not too long ago.

If I just stare hard enough… Emmett thought, then he was overcome in a beautiful memory that made all the city world around him disappear and two lone figures appear next to one of the eatery's windows.

"Emmett, IHOP?"

He chuckled at her incredulous voice.

"Yes, IHOP. You said you were hungry, so I just couldn't let you starve, could I?"

He was rewarded with a small, musical laugh from the stunning blonde that sat across from him. Her dainty hand reached across the table to touch the face of her companion, a brilliant smile possessing the young woman's face.

He, like the fool he was, smiled back then broke the silence.

"So, eggs, my lady?"

Emmett was brought back to the real world as the reminiscent laughter faded into the past. It was about five twenty now, the time when trucks roared to life and trekked the black thoroughfare for destinations that needed their cargo. His memories only made him miss her more – this one especially. That had happened earlier in the week, before everything became the giant wad of mess much like the paper ones adorning the empty space around the trashcan in his small kitchen.

That night didn't last as long as it should have, nothing with her lasted long enough. His tormented mind continued to wander as his legs carried him unconsciously towards the one place he needed to get to in order to make this right.

"Hey, watch out!"

"Emmett, watch out!"

Her blonde hair swung freely from under the knit cap she wore over it as she jerked his arm, and his body, out of the way from the one-way path he was heading on a metal streetlight pole.

"Watch out!"

Emmett's eyes widened as he snapped out of his mind to see his body restrained by a pair of small, white hands and a large, metal pole inches away from his face. He traced the arms to the owner, looking down at a young woman with short, pixie like black hair and an amused look on her serene face.

"Oh, thanks."

Her smile was warm and her eyes soft. Emmett looked from the short woman to the rather tall man holding her free hand, a skinny blonde who, if possible, wore a calmer than Gandhi expression on his smooth features.

"You're welcome. It didn't take a psychic to see you were going to hit that thing head on. I tried to stop you earlier, but you seemed a little preoccupied."

A shy smile made its way onto his lips.

"Yeah, I guess so…" He ran a hand through his curly locks. "Thanks again – for looking out for my head."

"Just watch out next time." The pixie girl then tapped her head and winked.

He felt his mood take a turn to humorous as the man holding her hand chuckled at his girlfriend's antics and soon the two of them were walking down the street, heading for who knows where at this time in the morning.

Taking a good look around he thought somberly that if the pole didn't stop him the next flashback certainly would, given the place he was.

"Huh?"

"Stupid, you almost had an intimate run-in with a pole."

Emmett turned a slight shade of pink and forced out a small laugh.

"Guess I did…"

The two stood there, her hand still clutched around his upper arm, looking at each other. Then slowly, oh so slowly, she traveled her hand to his and gripped it lightly, her mouth curling into a devilish grin as she stepped backwards to the apartment building behind her. Like a child being led to a candy story, Emmett followed the goddess that was pulling him to a set of stairs, then another, and finally stopped in front of a red painted door with the glossy golden number 303 hitched to the flat surface.

"I don't do this much, but there's something about you Emmett that I just can't ignore…"

Her eyes looked straight into his as she made this confession and something in the man changed that very instant – outside of this door, in the small downtown neighbourhood of this city, Emmett McCarty swore to himself that something altered for the better. He wanted nothing, nothing, but to hold this woman in his arms for the rest of his life.

Taking a large gulp of fresh air, he purposefully strode to the closed, gated door and pressed a pearly white button, which was immediately followed by a dull, buzzing noise. While waiting for complete strangers to answer a buzz at their door at this early hour, Emmett found himself receding into the last conversation he had with the girl he was looking for.

"Know what, Emmett?"

He clutched the phone closer to his ear, rolling over on his bed for a more comfortable position.

"What?"

Her silence frightened him.

"I don't believe in love."

"What? Seriously?" Not to admit it out loud, but Emmett had always believed since childhood in love. It was the only magic in the world that wasn't made in Hollywood or a science lab. "I don't believe you."

"It's true! I believe that people fake love to get what they want. I mean that's what my parents did. They don't love each other – my mother loves the money my father makes and he loves the sex my mother gives him."

He barked out laughter at the blatant statement. She joined too, urging him to believe its verity but as he laughed, he thought of a way to make her believe in love, because what he felt definitely wasn't his dinner digesting. He got butterflies in his toned stomach whenever he saw her, and he knew it wasn't for naught.

"Well, trust me Rose, love is real."

"Hello?"

Shaking his head for what felt like the millionth time since he awoke, he cleared his throat.

"Hey, hello, um, look, I'm sorry to be bothering you this early in the morning but I have a question I really hope you can answer for me."

He was met with silence. After about thirty seconds of it he went to press another button but was met with the same voice back over the speakerphone.

"What's your question?"

Emmett's legs bent and his head rolled back in a relieved silent 'thank you' and he spoke into the metal box.

"Like I said, I don't mean to be a bother, but have you seen the girl who lives in 303? She's been running through my dreams, haunting my waking thoughts – it's driving me crazy."

"…And? Do you actually know the person in that apartment?"

"Yes, yes, her name is Rosalie Hale, from New York, about 5'9, with long blonde hair and a musical laugh that sounds like it belongs to an angel. My name is Emmett McCarty, I have been here with her before."

"What do you want her for?"

Jeez, was this the landlord or something? Emmett thought.

"Sir, I believe I'm going to ask her to marry me."

The conversation ended after the speaker told him that she hasn't been seen for a few days, but good luck in trying to get a hold of her. That talk was repeated with every tenant that answered their buzz and any and every person who entered or exited the building, pleading to unfamiliar faces that met him with downcast rejection to the inner workings property.

Wearily, the last call button was pressed and I was met with a friendly female voice, which after hearing the story buzzed him in, beckoning the stranger to come to her apartment. Scaling three flights of stairs he stood across from Rosalie's apartment, knocking shyly on the unknown person's door.

Light rain started to fall from the sky when the door opened, a man the same age as Emmett standing in the entryway, his wild bronze hair sticking up in all directions.

"Um…hi. A woman from this apartment buzzed me in?"

He nodded his head.

"Bella, door."

A head popped around the side of the door, followed by a body with brown eyes and brown hair and a smile on her pretty face. The man's arms wrapped around the waist of Bella and he stared at Emmett, feeling awkward on the other side of the threshold.

"Hi, I'm Bella Masen. You must be Emmett."

She extended a hand and Emmett took it, grateful for some friendliness.

"Yes, but how – "

"Rose and I are best friends and she mentioned you quite a few times."

I nodded, and her smile faded to one not of happiness, but of regret. Her large brown eyes held sorrow, and Emmett wondered how a stranger could hold so much compassion for someone she had only heard about.

"Emmett, Rosalie left – I think she went back to New York yesterday. I'm sorry how she didn't tell you, but she was just so confused about things that it was a split second decision. She said she called you, but it was your answering machine and she liked you too much to leave you a message saying that she left."

"Oh, ok." He nodded and swallowed, those the only words to come out of his mouth before he turned from the couple and headed to the stairs, ignoring the questioning calls from Bella. They had been together for a while, it was serious, and she couldn't see him before she left?

A hole formed in the muscular man's heart that throbbed with each weary step he took to his flat. Unaware to his surroundings, he passed fruit stand owners pushing their product and morning joggers who ran through the steady rain plunging from the gray sky maneuvered around him.

"So, why did you leave New York?"

Rosalie turned in his arms on his couch to look him in the eyes.

"Well, it is safe to say that I'm not going back there – I did something so terrible and it has me terrified to speak to my parents."

Disbelief shined in his eyes as she spoke.

"I know, what on earth could I have done, right? Well, I was mixed up and to cut the crap, my parents wanted me to marry a total jerk and I just couldn't. I only entertained the though to make my parents happy but I couldn't do it anymore. So, I just left."

He pulled the keys out of his soaked jean pocket and mounted the metal steps to the dingy black door awaiting him. The locks tumbled open and the knob clicked as the door swung open, revealing an empty apartment.

Closing the door he noted that his failed attempt at finding Rosalie took about three hours and the small living room was just as dark as he had left it earlier that day thanks to the stirring dreary weather that reflected his defeated self. He tossed the worn keys on a small wooden shelf that held his wallet and an old, autographed baseball and wriggled out of the soaked zip-up hooded jacket he wore, hanging it below the shelf where pegs stuck out.

"Oh God, why…"

The defeated man collided with the wall and slid down the painted surface, seeking solid surface to rest his spinning head and tired legs.

"God, I love her… and I never got to say it. Now I don't know if I ever will."

His body tensed when he heard a wooden kitchen chair scrape against the wooden floor that ran throughout the rooms, with clicking heels following the grating and moments later a blonde haired vision of beauty walked from his kitchen to the long, dimly entrance hallway.

"Rose…"

Her lip-gloss shimmered in the reflecting light from the kitchen and he swore that he had never seen a simple, green dress look as beautiful as it did on Rosalie's beautiful body.

"Emmett, let me explain. I left to stay at my brother's house yesterday because I was afraid of what I was feeling when I'm with you and I needed to get away to sort it out. I did, though, and I want to thank you."

He made his way back to his feet while she spoke and cautiously stepped towards her, closing the distance every small stride he took.

"For what?"

Once close enough, her manicured hands reached out to grab his unshaven face, lowering it to her level and whispering words on his lips.

"For making me believe in love."

Emmett's arms came around her body as Rosalie's smiling lips touched his, connecting in a heartfelt passionate kiss that drove him to tighten his arms around the woman in his arms and swing her around in a burst of joy that she hadn't left and was here, with him.

And he made her believe in love.

I am sorry for grammatical errors because grammar and I aren't deep friends, we're sort of surface buddies. X] But you've made it here and I hope that the story made sense and weaved together nicely for you!

Tid-Bit Information Time:

Home is on the range for those who live there.

Thank you for reading!!

Love to All,

Kat

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