The days felt like they were slipping through Bella's fingers, each moment pulling her closer to an inevitable clash of wills. Every time she saw Rosalie, her heart raced, but the distance between them remained just as wide. Rosalie kept her distance, as if determined to ignore whatever had begun to simmer between them.
But Bella couldn't do that. She couldn't push the connection away, no matter how hard she tried. The pull toward Rosalie, as strong as a magnetic force, seemed to tighten with every passing day. And though Rosalie acted like she didn't feel it, Bella couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing.
That morning, as Bella sat through her first class of the day, her mind was far from the lesson on the board. Her eyes kept drifting toward the Hale, sitting in her usual corner. There was Rosalie, her striking beauty almost blinding in the soft light filtering through the windows. Her attention was focused on Bella—at least, it felt like it.
Bella had learned by now not to trust her instincts too much, but the tingling sensation at the back of her neck told her that something had shifted. Rosalie's gaze was locked on her, but not with the same cold detachment as before. This time, it was something different—something more deliberate.
Bella's heart stuttered in her chest.
The bell rang, and the class began to settle into the usual rhythm. Bella snapped herself back to attention, but her mind was still spinning. Was it possible that Rosalie was starting to acknowledge her? Or was this some cruel game?
Later that day, in the cafeteria, Bella sat at her usual table, the one she had claimed as her own in the corner. She had become used to eating alone, even though Angela often tried to include her in her conversations. But today, Bella found herself more distracted than usual. Every time she glanced up, her eyes would land on Rosalie. Every. Single. Time.
It was maddening. The tension between them seemed to stretch further with each passing moment. Rosalie was across the room, sitting with Alice and Emmett, but Bella couldn't shake the feeling that something was happening. That something was about to change.
As if on cue, Rosalie stood and walked toward the door. Her movements were smooth, almost predatory, and Bella felt her breath catch in her throat. There was no doubt now—there was something in the way Rosalie held herself, something that spoke of a power Bella couldn't deny.
Without thinking, Bella stood and followed, her legs carrying her faster than she intended. It was as if something was pulling her forward, something invisible, urging her to move toward Rosalie.
She stepped outside into the cool, damp air, her gaze immediately locking onto Rosalie as she stood by her car, the wind gently tugging at her golden locks. There was a stillness to the moment, a silence that stretched between them, as if time had slowed.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Bella stood frozen, unsure of what to say, unsure if she should say anything at all. But her feet moved before she could stop them, stepping closer to Rosalie with each passing second.
When she was only a few feet away, Rosalie finally turned, her gaze softening—just a little. It was like she had finally noticed Bella in a way that she hadn't before.
"Why are you following me?" Rosalie's voice was cold, but there was an edge to it that Bella had never heard before.
"I don't know," Bella admitted, her voice small but steady. "I… I couldn't stay away."
The words hung in the air between them, more real than anything Bella had said in days. She didn't know what she expected—certainly not the flicker of surprise in Rosalie's eyes, or the brief hesitation before the blonde spoke again.
"You're not supposed to be here," Rosalie said, her tone firm, but something in her posture softened. "I am not safe for someone like you."
Bella's heart skipped a beat. "Someone like me?" she repeated, confused.
Rosalie sighed, her eyes flicking toward the ground for a brief moment before meeting Bella's gaze again. "You don't belong in my world. You're not the same. You should stay away."
The words stung, but Bella didn't flinch. She had heard worse, had expected worse. But there was something else in Rosalie's voice—something vulnerable, almost apologetic.
Rosalie continued, her voice quieter now, more hesitant. "I don't want you to be part of this cursed life of mine."
Bella's chest tightened, her mind racing. "But I don't have a choice, do I?"
Rosalie's expression darkened. "You don't understand," she said softly, almost as if she were talking to herself. "You're not like my family. You don't belong to my world." She glanced at Bella again, her golden eyes filled with something Bella couldn't quite read. "You're... not supposed to be with me."
Bella's heart twisted in her chest, but she shook her head. "I don't care," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't care about any of that. What I care about is you."
For a moment, Rosalie didn't respond. She stood still, as if frozen by Bella's words. The tension between them grew thick, but there was something unspoken in the air—something that told Bella Rosalie wasn't entirely sure how to react to her.
"I should go," Rosalie finally said, her voice strained. "I'll see you at school."
Bella nodded slowly, watching as Rosalie turned and walked away. But something in her chest told her that this conversation wasn't over, that it was only just beginning.
Back in her truck, Bella's thoughts were a whirlwind. She could still feel Rosalie's presence, could still hear the quiet intensity in her voice. There was so much unsaid between them. So many layers of confusion, rejection, and something else… something that neither of them could ignore.
And as she drove home that night, she realized with a sickening clarity that she wasn't just falling for Rosalie. She was already in too deep. There was no turning back now.