prolouge
He was shaking, his head twisting back in forth in denial. But she could see it, he was slowly coming back, his panic ending.
"It's me," Audrey whispered. "I'm here. I'm alive. It's ok." She slowly extended her hand, letting it hang in the dark air between them, and his eyes followed her movements, running down the length of her arm then back to her face. Despite his lack of need for air, he was breathing heavily, and it echoed in the silence around them.
Then carefully, his eyes warily searching his face, he reached out. The sleeve of his robe slid back, revealing the length of his arm. A few scars, even whiter than his skin, cut across his wrist and down to his elbow. But she forced herself to watch his face.
Then, his fingertips grazed hers, and then his whole hand was gripping hers, and she pulled him to her, needing to show him that she was there, she was fine. Alive.
She jumped slightly when his other hand reached for her face, but he only brushed a thumb across.
"I...believe you. It's you. Audrey," He said, and she nodded, unable to speak. She wasn't sure what he wanted, but she stood still, too afraid of setting him off again.
He moved closer, and soon his face was all she can see. And then it wasn't just his face, but his whole body moved closer, and she took an unconcious step back, hitting the stone wall. He kept coming closer, his hand now holding her face still, as he deliberately lowered his head to hers.
And then he pressed his mouth against hers. It was quick, and he pulled back before her brain could even process what had happened. His eyes locked on hers for a whole second, before he crushed himself against her, all caution gone. Her world narrowed down to only him, and all she could concetrate on was him, as this time she responded to him. She pressed herself against him, and his hand let go of hers to wrap around her hip.
He moved closer, and she was slammed back against the wall, causing the stones to rattle slightly before settling.
He half grinned against her mouth. "Sorry."
She rolled her eyes. "Vampire," She reminded him, before pulling him to her.
He groaned, and they became more frantic. All the years of thinking about her, thinking about her laugh, her eyes, her hair, her skin, and she was finally there, her body wrapped around his. He couldn't find the control he valued so much as a Volturi. It was gone, and in its place was this needy, desperate man. All he could think of was more. He wanted more. More of her scent, her warmth, her everything. And he refused to let go.
I'm obviously taking a lot of liberties with this story. I'm not really quite sure about the inner workings of the Volturi, I can only give a guess using the information SM has provided. So if any of you have idea for me, I would welcome them. Not just on the Volturi (although that would be most useful) but on the story as well. This is sort of an idea I've been playing around with ever since I read Breaking Dawn. So right now I'm sort of working on the plot and figuring out the characters, so please have patience with me and give me your honest opinion. I'm going to need a lot of help.