We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when he turned abruptly onto an unpaved road.
It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpent like, around the ancient trees. And then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn?
The gloom of the forest didn't relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.
I don't know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn't this. The house was timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned. The windows and doors were either part of the original structure or a perfect restoration. My truck was the only car in sight. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest.
"Wow."
"You like it?" He smiled.
"It... Has a certain charm."
He pulled the end of my ponytail and chuckled. "Ready?" he asked, opening my door. "Not even a little bit - let's go." I tried to laugh, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. I smoothed my hair nervously. "You look lovely." He took my hand easily, without thinking about it. We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew he could feel my tension; his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand. He opened the door for me.
The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. This must have originally been several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high-beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of white. Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edward's parents.
I'd seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, but even out of the emergency room and in casual clothes I was still stunned with fear. I ciould feel my breath pick u and my heart do overtime.
Edward pushed me away from Esme and fallowed my gaze and did a double take at what was scaring me.
"Bella whats wrong ?"
review for the second half. and if i get enough i'll do edwards pov