"Good," he smiled; he needed something familiar again. He needed to see Concrete Blonde, she was a part of himself and the Cullen family.

(Concrete Blonde) He laughed, "I'm in Forks."

"I left and then returned, but they were gone." He murmured, listening to Concrete Blonde as she insulted the wolves. --

-- "Jacob's mutt pack?" He raised an eyebrow. "Concrete Blonde, they are around, some old, some new."

"And Renesmee and Jacob..." He trailed off into his own thought, deluding himself that the reality he faced was not real. His daughter --

was in love with a puppy. He sighed, extremely saddened on the thought.

The complexity of his situation was unlike any other he had been faced with; Concrete Blonde did not yet understand parenthood, and --

-- how even if he abhorred the dog, he would put aside his hate for his daughter. "I know, Concrete Blonde." He sighed.

"You should." He encouraged Concrete Blonde, hiding the desperation in his tone with false intent. He yearned for someone other than Alice -

-- to talk to, and a topic different than Bella to talk on. Concrete Blonde, despite being his least favourite, may have matured --

over the years. He knew Concrete Blonde had guilt - it was in her voice, across her features when she left and still today he could hear it.

-/longing for something other than vampirism, and so was Concrete Blonde, which is perhaps why he couldn't despise her. Rosalie, a girl -/

-/ with golden tresses and a heart for humans, was dead. She wasn't alive anymore, her pulse had paused and her eyes had become the colour-/

-/ of her hair. He remembered her, the swift movement of her hand as it combed through stubborn strands, the accusing golden orbs which -/

-/ would fixate on him had he even thought of doing something wrong and the sweet sound of her voice, which was often ruined by what she-/

-/ said. Concrete Blonde was tragically beautiful, and he had began to see all he had missed. From the beginning, he thought she possessed-/

-/ a certain chill and her icy exterior wasn't one which matched his own. Oh, so vain! He would watch her gaze adoringly in a mirror for -/

-/ hours. However, it was just now when he realised the part of her he wanted to see, her vulnerability, had been hidden because of what -/

-/ those monsters had done. He sympathised with her more so now, he understood her and her coldness. There was nothing left to say, other -/

-/ than a quiet hello he would murmur when he would pick her up later.