"Yes, of course. I understand," Rosalie tells the man who tries to comfort her, looking up into his eyes appreciatively. But she's careful to indicate with her tone and expression that she doesn't really believe him, and continues to blush. "Won't you excuse me, please?" she asks, then continues towards the powder room, making a show of walking briskly.
Rosalie counts the seconds before one of her friends rushes in and flies to her side. And Rosalie makes the appropriate show of being distraught and upset, leaning on the other girl's shoulder when it is offered to her, covering her face in her hands. It's a little too easy, to channel her anger into this performance, and some of her words are genuine. As she fakes being on the verge of tears, to her own horror she realizes that it might not be as fake as she would like to think.
But that just makes her angry again. Why should she care how Edward treated her?
Several girls come and go from the roomโsome stand and ask questions just outside the door. "It's Rosalieโshe's very upset, poor dear," others answer, and all attempt to offer their own form of comfort.
As if they meant it. As if they weren't secretly thinking it served her right, or inwardly laughing at her downfall. As if they won't gossip about it tomorrow. Rosalie chooses to dwell on their hidden but obvious duplicity. It fuels her anger, and assists her in the little show she's putting on.
She emerges eventually, when she feels her friends have done enough to relieve her previous "mortification." She consents to a few dances, but refuses others, apologizing that she's "not in the mood." Anything to keep people talking about it.
She moves to the balcony later, to lean on the railing and sigh. It would be the perfect opportunity for someone to come and apologize.
She tries not to acknowledge to herself the fact that she's going to be waiting for said apology all night. Especially because she knows it probably won't ever come.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-09-24 05:24 pm (UTC)Rosalie counts the seconds before one of her friends rushes in and flies to her side. And Rosalie makes the appropriate show of being distraught and upset, leaning on the other girl's shoulder when it is offered to her, covering her face in her hands. It's a little too easy, to channel her anger into this performance, and some of her words are genuine. As she fakes being on the verge of tears, to her own horror she realizes that it might not be as fake as she would like to think.
But that just makes her angry again. Why should she care how Edward treated her?
Several girls come and go from the roomโsome stand and ask questions just outside the door. "It's Rosalieโshe's very upset, poor dear," others answer, and all attempt to offer their own form of comfort.
As if they meant it. As if they weren't secretly thinking it served her right, or inwardly laughing at her downfall. As if they won't gossip about it tomorrow. Rosalie chooses to dwell on their hidden but obvious duplicity. It fuels her anger, and assists her in the little show she's putting on.
She emerges eventually, when she feels her friends have done enough to relieve her previous "mortification." She consents to a few dances, but refuses others, apologizing that she's "not in the mood." Anything to keep people talking about it.
She moves to the balcony later, to lean on the railing and sigh. It would be the perfect opportunity for someone to come and apologize.
She tries not to acknowledge to herself the fact that she's going to be waiting for said apology all night. Especially because she knows it probably won't ever come.