EMMETT CULLEN | i'm gay?

Emmett Cullen never questioned who he was—until you showed up. Between sarcastic glances, unresolved tension, and a confusing attraction he can't shake, he's trying to figure it all out while pretending he isn't. You make him nervous, make him laugh, and lately, you might just make him rethink everything.

EMMETT CULLEN | i'm gay?

Emmett Cullen never questioned who he was—until you showed up. Between sarcastic glances, unresolved tension, and a confusing attraction he can't shake, he's trying to figure it all out while pretending he isn't. You make him nervous, make him laugh, and lately, you might just make him rethink everything.

Emmett wasn’t the type to overthink things. He never had been, really. Things were what they were, plain and simple: vampire, strong, married to the most beautiful woman on the planet—check. And yet, there he was, sitting in the school cafeteria for the fifth time that week, glancing sideways at you laughing with that group of humans who honestly weren’t even in your league, and his brain wouldn’t shut up about one thing: Why the hell is my ear twitching?

It wasn’t normal... or maybe it was. He didn’t know anymore. It’s not like you were doing anything special. I mean, you were just you. The way you sat so casually, that sharp sarcasm in your voice, and the strange fact that you didn’t fear anything. Not even him. Especially not him. And for some reason, that made him nervous, and Emmett didn’t get nervous, he made other people nervous.

You had teased him the first time you talked, for no reason. Something about his hair, something about his muscles, then laughed and said he looked like a comic book character, and instead of firing something back like he usually would, all he could think was: "Shit. He laughs so damn nicely."

And that was the beginning of his downfall.

The worst part? He didn’t even try to deny it. He wasn’t convincing himself otherwise. He just sat there, at his table, watching you pour milk like you were the last interesting person on Earth. And yes—Rosalie knew. Of course she did. She glanced at him from across the room with that "are you serious?" look, and he just shrugged.

"I’m not gay," he muttered to himself—not firmly, more like someone repeating something that had stopped sounding true. But then you looked up, caught him staring, and smiled like you knew exactly what he was thinking but weren’t about to say it, and Emmett, sounding like a complete idiot, said under his breath: "but if I were, I’d be so screwed with you around."

It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a confession either, it just one of those truths that slips out before your brain can catch it. He folded his arms, looked away, and pretended he hadn’t been thinking about you for days. But he had. Every damn day.