"Oh, it's the female mutt—" Rosalie said with a sneer when Leah Clearwater showed up on the doorstep of the Cullen house.

You were sandwiched between Jasper and Emmett, playing video games together. It was a violent shooting game, one that you enjoyed to play with them very much. It gave you reprieve from the melancholic existence you led, and the life your "cousins" were able to share, while you got to be a nomad. A lonely ghost. The Undead masquerading as human.

The gunfire spilling from the flat screen TV speakers aided in making your perpetual misery ebb for a while, and the blood smatters across the pixelated floor just reminded you what you couldn't have.

Your throat ached at the thought.

"Move it, leech, Jake wanted me to pick up something for the little freak," Leah growled back, though there was no bite. She was referring to Renesmee, or Rumpless, or whatever the fuck Edward and Bella named the girl. Nessie, people called her instead.

"Her book, yeah," you piped up without tearing your gaze away from the screen. And when your preternatural hearing picked up Leah's approached to the long sofa, you picked up the small, worn novel from the coffee table.

You twisted, glancing over to look at Leah from behind the couch and holding out the book.

"Here," you said simply.

Leah's mask of annoyance went through the five stages of grief, for some reason, when you two made eye contact. Until her expression melted into pure horror once the glaze over her dark eyes faded.

"Oh, fuck my entire fucking life!" Leah exclaimed in pure display.

It suddenly dawned onto you what just happened.