Rosalie doesn't remember having cuddled with her human parents, nor can she decide whether it makes a difference to do so now, but she does know that needs this, needs Esme's loving touch.
"Will it ever end? The running, the fighting?" she murmurs, the enquiry barely steam against Esme's neck as Rosalie nestles into her side. Esme sighs.
"Oh, my sweet girl, I couldn't tell you. I really couldn't."
There's not much to say to that, so Rosalie settles for curling herself tighter around Esme's figure; one of Esme's hands gently strokes her blonde hair, and Esme presses a soft kiss to her forehead.
"But we will fight until it does."