[Third Person].
Randall didn't acknowledge her. He brushed past her without a word, his presence filling the room with a cold, oppressive force.
Inside, Rosalie sat calmly, as though untouched by the noise, holding an apple in her hand. She bit into it slowly, unhurried, as if his arrival meant nothing.
That alone irritated him further.
In a single stride, he reached her and snatched the apple from her hand, throwing it aside. It hit the floor and rolled away.
Rosalie turned sharply, her eyes burning as they locked onto him. The calm vanished. Her lips curled, fangs bared as she lunged forward, but Randall was faster.
He caught her by the arms, holding her at a distance, his grip firm enough to restrain her without effort.
She struggled, but he didn't move an inch.
A scoff left him, cold and filled with contempt. "You must be very pleased with yourself."
Her glare didn't waver.
