FIGHT ME.

Feathers cascade down from rafters and soft candlelight had long since gone out. Sheets cling to the sharp curves of Emmett’s hips and he chuckles at the question. His skin gives a soft glow and it grows stronger as sunlight filters into the room. He sparkles but can’t bring himself to care as he reaches out to gently brush the other’s cheek with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

He hadn’t closed the door. His brother’s rapping knuckles against his door frame stir him from his thoughts and he can’t help but sigh with breath they both knew he didn’t have.

WHAT DO YOU MEME?

He’d cross his arms, making a face as his family gave light laughs. Baseball made them all competitive but Bree seemed especially CONFIDENT. He liked that.

He stands, his hulking frame ominous. It would be chilling but the context makes it SILLY, if anything.

He’d take a sharp breath he didn’t need. The normal hum of his supernatural abilities become too much when this sudden TIGHTNESS grips his long dead chest and causes it to seize with sorrow he was no longer able to physically show.

No one is fast enough to catch him when he falls to his knees, no one knows what to say when his family tries to quell his anguish as he SCREAMS into shaking hands. His face is dry but his hollow, bitter sobs are real. He’s scaring them, and they take this supposed stranger’s presence as an instant threat in lieu of Emmett’s lack of explanation.

Edward ordering his family to stop when they gear up for an attack is the only thing that holds the coven back. He knows, can hear Emmett’s anguish all too clear as he pulls his own mate close. All their families had long since passed.