#breaking dawn

“She started it.” You said, but gave Edward the pleasure of looking away and slouching deeper in your chair. “And why is she even staring at us? Do humans not know that eye contact means aggression? Or is this a regional problem? Maybe Arizona doesn’t have basic survival instincts.”

“(Y/N).” Edward hissed.

“I’m genuinely asking.”

Rosalie sighed like your existence personally offended her. “She’s curious, (Y/N). Humans get curious.”

“Curious about what? We sit here. We look pretty. We mind our undead business. It’s not like we’re juggling axes or sacrificing goats.”

“Alice suggested the axes once, remember?” Emmett said. “Carlisle said no.”

“And the goats?”

“Also no.”

“Tragic.”

Edward rubbed his temples. “Can everyone please behave? She’s not a threat.”

“Oh, I know she’s not a threat,” you said, stabbing at your boxed apple juice with unnecessary force. “She’s a walking liability. A hazard on legs. She radiates ‘about to trip and break something expensive’ energy.”

“She’s clumsy.” Jasper admitted diplomatically.

“Clumsy? Bro, clumsy is bumping into a chair. Bella looks like gravity filed a restraining order against her and it’s retaliating.”

Emmett choked on a laugh. Jasper pressed his lips together so hard they almost disappeared. Alice was openly beaming now, her chin propped in her hand like she was watching her favorite sitcom. Rosalie, for once, did not immediately scold you. She simply gave a slow, unimpressed blink that meant she agreed but refused to compliment you for it.

Bella's eyes drifted up again: straight to your table, straight to Edward, and then (unfortunately) straight to you. When your eyes met, you raised your brows, silently mouthing, "What are you looking at?" She jerked so hard that the cartoon of milk nearly spilled on the table.

Edward kicked your shin under the table. “Stop terrorizing her.”

You glared at him. “I’m not terrorizing her. I’m observing.”

“You’re glaring.”

“That was a neutral expression.”

“For a vampire about to commit a felony.” Rosalie supplied. You rolled your eyes and reached for your fork. Edward snatched it out of your hand instantly.

“What are you—?"

He hissed under his breath, “Your face looks like you’re about to throw it at her.”

You blinked, and paused to considered it. “Okay, fair. But give it back.”

“No. You don't need to frighten her anymore than you have.”

“I wasn't scaring her,” you said, though no one at the table believed you. “If anything, I’m preparing her. This is enrichment. Like zoo training.”

TIME SKIP

When Edward came home that afternoon, his expression was the exact mix of disgust and existential dread you usually associate with Rosalie encountering a crowded mall. He barely got through the door before you spoke. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

Edward dropped his bag with unnecessary dramatics. “I had Biology with her.”

You recoiled. “Oh my god. And, let me guess, she sat next to you?”

“Yes.”

You slapped a hand over your chest. “A tragedy. A violation. You poor thing.” Edward glared. You shrugged. "No actually, I get it. She smells like dessert to you, right? And instead of avoiding you like a human with basic survival instincts she's like, ‘Oh gee, let me sit beside the immortal bloodsucker and try to befriend him.’ That’s a choice. A stupid one.”

Edward groaned. “It took everything in me not to jump across the table and suck her dry."

You raised a brow. “So this is the part where you decide to stay away from her, right?” Edward didn’t answer. You slapped a hand over your eyes. “Oh no. You’re already obsessed, aren’t you?”

And obsessed he was.

Painfully. Horrifyingly. Criminally.

Two days later, he unknowingly let it slip—and by slip, you mean he confessed it like a man who had forgotten what shame was—that he’d been watching Bella sleep from inside her room like a total creep. It happened during another dramatic Edward Entry, where he appeared at the top of the stairs with that look. That haunted, dreamy, lovesick, vaguely murderous look.

“I’ve discovered something.” he murmured, descending the stairs like a gothic chandelier falling in slow motion.

“A personality?” He ignored you. That was mistake number one.

“She talks in her sleep.” Edward said, voice low and weirdly soft.

You blinked once. Twice. “…Excuse me?”

Edward paused, eyebrows lifting in mild confusion. “Bella. She—”

“—talks in her sleep,” you finished for him. “Yes. Yes, you just said that. My question is: how you know this?”

Emmett’s eyebrows shot up. Jasper straightened in his seat like someone had plugged him into an electrical socket. Rosalie turned her head slowly—very slowly—to glare at Edward, because although she disliked Bella with a passion, she wasn’t about to let her brother be a full blown psycho. Her eyes narrowed into lethal slits.

“Edward. Tell me you’re joking.”

He stiffened. “I—”

“No,” Rosalie snapped, cutting him off like a guillotine. “Don’t. Whatever you say next is going to make me want to hit you, and Carlisle will get mad when I break your jaw.”

Emmett raised a hand helpfully. “I can hold him down.”

Rosalie didn’t even look at him. “He wouldn’t fight back. He’d probably cry about it.”

Jasper’s voice was cautious, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Edward, please tell us how you discovered this?”

Hesitation.

A bad sign.

A very bad sign.

You leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Edward, where were you standing when she was sleep talking?”

“I wasn’t standing.” he said defensively.

Rosalie looked a heartbeat away from physical violence. “Okay, so you were sitting. Where? On a tree branch? Outside her window like a feral owl?"

He winced. “The rocking chair in her room.”

The room exploded.

Rosalie made a strangled, murderous noise. Jasper froze as if preparing emotionally for Edward’s funeral. Emmett dropped the remote and whispered, “Oh my god. You ARE a creep.” And you stood up so fast your chair skidded backward.

“EDWARD ANTHONY MASEN CULLEN!”

“Don’t use my full name—”

“You sat,” you repeated, stabbing each word into the air like a knife. “In the dark. In the corner. In a rocking chair. Watching a human girl as she slept like some sort of pale, sparkly sleep paralysis demon?"

Edward winced. “When you say it like that—”

“How ELSE am I supposed to say it?” you barked. “You violated every privacy law ever created! Even the unwritten ones! Humans don’t even LIKE when their pets stare at them while they sleep.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Oh my god,” Rosalie cut in, looking genuinely appalled. “I didn't think you could become even more of a loser than you were."

It was at that moment that Esme entered the room cheerfully, but then froze, noticing the tension. “What’s going on?”

You pointed at Edward with the dramatic fury of a soap opera character. “Oh, it's nothing. Just that your perfect golden boy here has been breaking into Bella Swan’s bedroom and WATCHING HER SLEEP!”

Esme blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh dear...”

Carlisle followed behind her, eyebrows rising. “Edward?”

Edward threw his hands up. “I was making sure she was safe!”

You gaped at him. “SAFE FROM WHAT, EDWARD?! NIGHTMARES? PILLOWS? HER OWN BREATHING?!”

Emmett nodded vigorously. “Bro, imagine waking up and seeing YOU in the corner. I’d yeet myself out the window.”

Jasper nodded. “So would I.”

Edward glared at all of you. “None of you understand—”

“OH TRUST ME,” you barked, “we understand PERFECTLY. You have lost your goddamn mind.”

Rosalie stepped closer, voice low. “If Bella finds out about this, she is going to pass out so fast she’ll crack her skull on her nightstand. And then YOU’LL have to explain to Charlie Swan why his daughter died of fright.”

Emmett held up a finger. “Which would be hilarious—”

Rosalie snapped, “Emmett!”

“—but bad.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Edward, listen carefully. Humans don’t LIKE being watched while unconscious. They tend to—oh, I don’t know—call the police!”

“That’s ridiculous.” Edward scoffed.

“Oh?” you asked sweetly. “And what would YOU do if a stranger sat in YOUR room at night?”

“I would know.” He said smugly.

“Yes,” you said dryly, “because you’re a vampire. Bella is a CHIHUAHUA with the durability of a breadstick.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “You need to stop. Now.”

Edward’s jaw clenched. “I can’t. She’s important.”

You threw your arms up. “You met her TWICE!”

“Three times.” Edward corrected.

“Oh! Well EXCUSE ME,” you said dramatically. “Three encounters. That changes everything. Let’s book the wedding.”

Emmett raised a hand. “Dibs on best man.”

Rosalie hissed. “We are not planning a wedding for the girl he’s currently stalking.”

“I'm not—"

“STALKING!”

ANOTHER TIME SKIP

Edward really lived up to his creep status. Not even a week after stalking the poor girl, he took her into the woods and confirmed that yes, he sparkled like a disco ball in direct sunlight, yes, he was a vampire, and yes, the rest of his family were too. You nearly sprinted into the woods to find the largest tree trunk available, solely to beat him with it.

Rule #1 (if there was a handbook): DO NOT REVEAL YOUR STATUS TO HUMANS.

And what did Edward do? He broke it. Crushed it. Set it on fire. Ran it over with his stupid Volvo. And then? Then he had the audacity—the pure nerve—to invite the girl to your home. Your safe place. The one place you guys didn't need to hide. You met them in the kitchen alongside the rest of your family who were busy making Italiano.

Edward practically glowed with smugness. “So, this is Bella.”

You stared at her.

She stared back.

You blinked slowly, once, twice, like a warning system rebooting. “…Why is she here?”

Esme gasped softly. “(Y/N)!”

Bella flushed, shrinking in on herself. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude—”

“You’re not intruding.” Edward reassured her, giving Bella a soft smile like he hadn't done anything wrong.

You pointed a stiff, accusing finger at him. “Oh, she absolutely is intruding. What happened to subtlety? What happened to discretion? What happened to keeping our kind a secret?”

Bella blinked nervously. “I apologize if me knowing brought you guys any problems—”

You barked a laugh.

Not a cute laugh.

A deranged older sibling losing their patience laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t bring us any problems. He did.”

Edward’s jaw tightened. “(Y/N)—”

“No, no, do not ‘(Y/N)’ me,” you snapped, stepping forward. “Do you have any idea how many decades—DECADES—we’ve spent keeping a low profile? Do you know how many times I’ve had to dodge nosy humans, animal control, conspiracy theorists, and that one lady who swore Emmett was Bigfoot?”

Emmett yelled from behind the kitchen counter, “SHE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME EATING A GRANOLA BAR—WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

You waved a dismissive hand. “Case in point.”

Bella’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t know—”

“Of course you didn’t know,” you said. “And you shouldn’t have known anything. About any of us. Because Edward was supposed to handle this like a responsible adult. Instead, he took you to the forest like a dramatically depressed anime character and told you everything.”

Edward hissed, “It wasn’t like that—”

“Oh?” you said. “Did you or did you not ‘say it, out loud’ her into a supernatural TED Talk?” Edward opened his mouth. You didn’t let him finish. “Exactly, you dramatically confessed eternal damnation in a mossy forest like the world’s biggest theatre kid.”

At that moment, you heard the sound of a glass breaking and Jasper's slight cursing. You didn't need to be in the same room to know he looked like a man trying to balance a thousand knifes on his head while walking a tightrope over a pit of Bella-scented lava.

“Okay,” you muttered. “Time for intervention number twelve of the week.” You turned your back on the couple and stepped into the main living room where Jasper stood at the top of the staircase.

"Come on, bro." You said, grabbing him by the wrist and nudging him towards the back hallway where the exit was. "Let’s go take a long walk where no gremlins are messing with you."

Jasper gritted his teeth. “Thank you.”

Edward called out, annoyed, “We’re in the middle of a discussion—!”