The Cullens’ living room glowed softly with lamplight, all honeyed wood and pale couches arranged just so—like a showroom for immortal perfection. Everyone had gathered in a loose circle: Carlisle and Esme perched together on the loveseat, Rosalie standing with arms crossed near the piano, Alice practically vibrating on the arm of a chair, Jasper leaning quietly at her side. Bella sat on the rug by the coffee table, knees pulled to her chest, eyes flicking between faces.

You were tucked comfortably into Emmett’s side on the couch, your head resting against his shoulder. His arm was wrapped around you with zero subtlety, fingers laced tightly with yours as if daring anyone to comment on it. Every so often, he’d tilt his head just enough to brush his temple against your hair, a smug little grin pulling at his mouth.

The conversation had started harmlessly enough—something about hunting strategies—but it had inevitably derailed.

“I’m just saying,” Bella said, glancing toward Edward with that fond, exasperated smile she always wore for him, “if you go by the checklist… Edward’s perfect.”

Edward, leaning against the far wall with his arms folded, lifted a brow. “I don’t recall authorizing a checklist.”

Alice laughed. Rosalie scoffed.

Your fingers tightened slightly around Emmett’s, and you smiled without looking up. “But I like how mine’s a little off-center,” you said easily. “He’s got Wabi-Sabi.”

Emmett’s grin widened instantly. “Hear that?” he said, thumbing your knuckles. “I’m exotic.”

Bella blinked. “You can’t win an argument by making up words.”

You finally lifted your head, turning to look at her, expression calm but amused. “Wabi-Sabi is an eastern tradition, sis,” you said. “It’s celebrating the beauty in what’s flawed.”

There was a beat of silence.

Edward tilted his head, listening—then his mouth twitched. Jasper’s lips curved faintly. Carlisle looked intrigued.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “So we’re calling Emmett ‘flawed’ now?”

“Hey,” Emmett said, feigning offense. “I prefer ‘artistically imperfect.’”

You laughed softly, leaning into him again. “He’s loud. He’s reckless. He breaks furniture and laughs about it. He feels everything at full volume.” You shrugged. “That’s the beauty. He’s real.”

Emmett looked down at you then, something warm and proud flashing in his eyes. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, like he was grounding himself in the moment.

Edward pushed off the wall and crossed his arms again, smirk firmly in place. “So perfection is overrated now?”

You met his gaze without hesitation. “Perfection doesn’t leave room to breathe,” you said. “Or grow. Or surprise you.”

Alice clapped her hands delightedly. “Oh, I love her.”

Bella smiled despite herself, shaking her head. “Okay. Fine. I get it.”

Emmett leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Guess that settles it,” he said smugly. “I win.”

Carlisle chuckled. “I don’t think anyone was competing.”

Emmett’s grin turned downright feral. “Oh, Doc,” he said. “We’re always competing.”

You just smiled, fingers still intertwined with his, perfectly content beside something beautifully, wonderfully off-center.