Bella was only nineteen, a freshman at the University of Washington, and yet when she'd first stepped foot on campus she felt so old. Bella had always felt a little older than she probably should, she liked to think that it was a side-effect of being Renee's daughter, but perhaps it was just some odd quirk of Bella's personality.
Like she was always wearing some younger person's skin, and yet, clumsy and awkward as she tried to navigate both socially and physically through environments that never really seemed to suit her.
Yet, every passing year she also felt, in some strange way, one year closer to death. Like if she closed her eyes she could feel the ticking of this clock, of time running out, pushing her forward at a pace that was far too fast and furious until one day she'd wake up dead.
She had no real reason to think this way, she knew it, as Charlie had reminded her after dropping her off on campus with a smile and a bear hug, Bella's life was just beginning. Renee, babbling and overemotional in the first five days of phone calls, had said more or less the same thing even if it took her ten times as long to say it.
So, like always, Bella liked to shove these sorts of philosophical thoughts into a box and cover it up with Jane Austen and Emily Bronte as well as the excitement of pursuing literature in a real academic sense (even if Charlie chided and reminded her that she should probably major in something that could get her some kind of job when she graduated).
Unfortunately, even at university, Bella Swan could not escape math.
Bella wouldn't say she was… the worst at math, in high school, especially in Forks' tiny high school with no AP courses to speak of, she'd been far from the worst in her class. That said, it was always something she'd struggled with and hadn't really liked. She'd been more than looking forward to leaving it behind, but unfortunately general requirements were general requirements, and she'd rather live her life in college without math hanging over her head like some dreaded guillotine.
The trouble was that this new math class was just a bit harder and faster paced than Forks' had been.
And this meant that rather than reading books and working on papers, Bella was trying to finish her math homework at hideous hours in the library. Standing there awkwardly in the doorway, biting her lip, she couldn't help but notice that once again every table in the place seemed to be occupied.
She shifted from foot to foot, looking over the stacks and stacks of books as well as the rows of tables. She could search in the back again for a seat, and she'd probably find one, but given that her apartment wasn't actually in Seattle (it'd seemed cheaper to commute via the truck rather than pay for campus housing) she mostly wanted to get started as quickly as possible so she could drive across the bridge at an hour that wasn't unreasonable.
Students, undergraduate and close to Bella's age as well as older graduate students, all bent over their computers, books, and papers with a focus that Bella envied right now. They cluttered and took up entire tables to themselves, looking anywhere but at Bella with invitation, making it all too clear that she wasn't going to be welcome at their table.
Once again, as in Forks and even Phoenix, she had that feeling that she was looking in at a tableau that she herself would never truly be a part of. In Phoenix she had been pale, shy, and awkward, in Forks she had been an outsider in this tiny town where everyone knew each other. Yet even here, standing in the doorway looking in, it was just the same, except what was her excuse this time?
"Pick a table, any table," Bella said to herself, shifting her backpack higher up onto her shoulders, eyes scanning the room as she slowly but surely wandered in.
The first, a dark-haired man with glasses maybe a few years older than her, looked far too intimidating. Rather, his stack of textbooks, three open at a time and highlighted like mad, looked far too intimidating for Bella's measly statistics homework to accompany them.
The next table, featuring a group of softly chattering girls bent over a pile of notebooks and open laptops was hardly better. Although there was a seat open at the table it had been covered with a bag, and everything about them screamed that Bella would not be welcome there.
God, maybe she should just study at her apartment. It'd be a pain to drive and then cook dinner and then get down to work, and she always found it hard to study at home, but at least there she was guaranteed a table to put things down on there.
Finally, with desperation, her eyes fell on one last table off to the side of the others, pressed up against the wall and almost unnoticeable. It too was occupied, but… He was intimidating, she'd hardly deny it. Staring at him across the room Bella could feel herself flushing without him even seeming to notice her, instead idly flipping through a book, fingers brushing each page with a care and attention that Bella rarely saw others employ to books. He was tall, blonde, on the thin side but even at a distance he seemed well built, probably a graduate student or else a senior, paler than her, but even with his face bent down over his book she could tell that he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life.
And suddenly, looking at him, blushing bright red and feeling like a creepy fool, she wanted to run out the door and run and claim her spot at the other side of his table at the same time.
She flushed harder, her face hot enough to fry eggs, as she realized that he probably got that all the time. Bella normally wasn't about that, objectifying people and putting herself forward for nothing but a pretty face, but she knew plenty of people were. He probably had girls, and boys, lined up the door passing him notes with their number on it, offering to get him coffee, and asking him if he liked long moonlit walks down the beach.
If she did this she would be…
It might just be the most embarrassing thing she'd ever do in her life, because he'd shoot her down, she knew it. He'd look up at her (his eyes were probably a deep and brilliant blue), he'd blink at her, and then maybe politely and awkwardly smile and tell her that this seat was reserved for his girlfriend or that he wasn't interested in freshmen.
Even tripping in front of everyone in Biology class that first day in Forks or years of PE would not be nearly as embarrassing as this hypothetical moment.
Still, despite everything, there was something about him that seemed… open. No, that wasn't right, he seemed as if beneath the stiffness in his posture, his quiet intensity, in the serenity with which he flipped pages he wanted to be open. As if he too, was standing outside the great tableau, always looking in and resigned to look in yet always hoping beneath that…
Determined Bella marched over, hovered over the seat across from his. He looked up, brow furrowed, and his face did not disappoint. It could have been sculpted by a Renaissance artist, perhaps by Michelangelo himself, his skin itself was so pale it could be marble. His eyes though weren't blue, but instead a strange, faded, gold.
"I'm sorry," Bella said, flushing as he blinked at her, as if to make sure she was still there and not a trick of his imagination, "But there's nowhere else to sit, and I promise I'll be quiet and not distracting at all…"
She trailed off, realizing she hadn't gotten to her point yet, "Can I sit here, please?"
He stared, looking at her as if she was some kind of an alien, but then he blinked, and he was smiling politely, moving some of his books to make room for her, "Please."
Bella sighed with relief, practically sagging into her seat, "Thank you."
Then with a smile she began to take out her own supplies, her worn second-hand stats book that could hopefully be sold for a decent price after the quarter was done, and happily went on her way. She tried not to notice how he stared at her.
It wasn't… It wasn't like the way some of the boys at Forks had stared at her (when Bella had suddenly and awkwardly found out she was attractive to the opposite sex and a prime target for Tolo and Prom) there was no lust or desire inside of it. Instead there was a building curiosity, bafflement, and then something approaching awe as if every second that Bella sat here proved some unprovable point.
When she looked up though he was looking down again, tracing words in what looked like a medical text book, and so Bella committed herself to working on her homework.
Only about halfway through this she ended up sighing, wishing she'd had some sort of a brain capable of doing math. She'd have to go to office hours, or else bother a TA, because at this rate she'd be turning in a failing assignment and Bella hadn't come to college to fail math.
She then looked at her phone, nearly swearing as she realized the time, she stood and began to pack things into her bag. The man was looking at her again, this time with some bemusement along with his confusion.
Bella then, with one hand stuffed in her backpack and the other on her textbook, realized she'd never actually introduced herself, "Bella Swan, freshman English major."
He smiled, and it was warm and breathtaking, and even though he didn't reach across the table to take her hand Bella could imagine the warmth of it in hers, "Carlisle Cullen, first year medical student."
Carlisle Cullen seemed to live at the library, or at least, Bella and his schedules seemed to intersect there to an absurd degree since every time she was there he seemed to be there too. Granted, Bella didn't question it too much, was probably a bit more grateful than she should be that she could always count on Carlisle to have a seat open and ready for her.
She'd walk in, spot him flipping through some text book or else reading through any pile of novels, and then he'd give her that soft kind smile and she'd grin back as she made her way towards him, always at some table at the outer edge of the library.
She'd nod at him, he'd smile, she'd say hi, he'd say hello, and then they'd get down to business.
Except…
Except the other seat was always open. Bella supposed that was normal, a lot of people studied by themselves, Bella certainly did most of the time. Except, that thought she'd had over people clamoring to get Carlisle's attention seemed to be wrong. It seemed, instead, that people subtly and instinctively avoided him.
They turned their backs to him, never looked in his direction, edged away from his table. Sure, they looked sometimes and giggled, but they never… approached.
Bella herself had few people she'd call friends, if she had friends at all. There was Jake, but sometimes he felt more like an obnoxious little brother than a friend. Besides, things had become… strained between them, towards the end, when it'd become clear that he liked Bella in a way that she just didn't like him. Angela had always been nice, and Bella liked her, still talked to her even after high school, but there'd always been something of a polite wall between them. As for Jessica Stanley, Lauren, Mike and all the rest… Well, Bella would at best call them friends of convenience, and that was the generous phrasing.
Point being, Bella was intimately familiar with loneliness, or at least, social isolation and introversion. She never thought she'd see the day when someone had it worse than her, more, for someone who was not only the physical embodiment of perfection (like the god Apollo descended to Earth) but was also so very nice.
And he was, he was quiet, but he always waved at her, always smiled, and always seemed glad to see her even if he seemed confused that she would waste time on him. And sometimes she wanted to open her mouth, blurt out and ignore her homework, and say that she couldn't waste time on someone like him because he was clearly wasting time even letting her sit across from him.
Boys, men, like Carlisle Cullen did not waste time on Bella Swans. That wasn't the way the world worked.
Except she thought he didn't know that.
It was raining outside again, it was always raining in this state, and Carlisle had chosen a table next to a tall window. It was an unusual seat for him, normally he tended to pick tables in corners, far away from any hint of natural sunlight, but today seemed to be an exception. He'd brought out books like usual, but he'd spent the whole time Bella had been working quietly looking outside at the rain, his eyes filled with a wealth of untold thoughts.
His eyes…
They were darker today, almost black, and the shadows deeper. His eyes were always shifting, changing from gold to black and back again, and Bella thought they were strange but also thought they were beautiful.
Finally, after too many meetings of holding her tongue and letting her thoughts cower and fester in her head, she quietly asked, "Carlisle, you don't live in the library, do you?"
He blinked, looked over at her, puzzled and bemused, and so very tired looking beneath all of that, "Do I live in the library?"
"You always seem to be here when I get here," Bella said, "And you're always here when I leave…"
And she'd left late on occasion, far later than she should, and he hadn't even seemed to notice. He never needed to drink coffee, tea, or energy drinks to pull through the night and the studying like Bella sometimes did. No, sometimes watching him work, Bella would enviously think that the man was an energizer bunny, he could just keep going and going.
He smiled, laughed, looking amused and a tad embarrassed, "I hadn't realized that."
"Do you…" Bella trailed off, flushed, and told herself she was going to be cool about this, "We can't really talk in a library, and I feel like I just keep ending up sitting next to you and I know nothing about you, so do you want to go get dinner?"
He regarded for a moment, strangely serious, and for a moment he looked far older than her. Far older than anyone, as if he had been in this perfect carved form for centuries, and it was truly a god who looked out.
Bella was certain he'd say no, she could read it in his expression, and she braced herself for the denial, even though she knew the pain and embarrassment was already showing on her face. Then though, he softened ever so slightly, a concession, and asked, "How about tea?"
She laughed, relieved and overjoyed all at once, maybe more than she needed to be from a man she didn't even really know, "I can do tea."
They relocated to the campus center, again at a table near the window, Carlisle's eyes sliding to the glass every once in a while as he warmed his hands against his cup of tea. Bella stirred in sugar, watching him, and then finally asked, "So, where does Carlisle Cullen come from?"
He offered her a smile, a strange one, one that hinted on a smirk but had no real heart in it. He wasn't the kind of man, Bella thought, that could offer any kind of smile that even bordered on cruel, "Can I not remain a man of mystery?"
Bella laughed in turn and then said, "Well, I can go first if you're nervous. I'm Bella Swan, freshman English major, nineteen, originally from Phoenix but resident of Forks for the past four years or so, and…"
She trailed off, this was usually the part where she'd give some sort of fun fact, or a normal person would. Except there was nothing really special about Bella, she'd always struggled with this part, because what could she possibly say? She was clumsy but that wasn't necessarily something she wanted to be defined by even if it did seem to be her defining feature. No, Bella had always been… unextraordinary, brown-haired, brown-eyed, unnaturally pale, constantly out of sync with her own body, and introverted to a fault.
"And I like books," she finally finished lamely, the answer she always ended up giving. However, Carlisle didn't seem to realize how lame of an answer that truly was, in fact, her answer seemed to have just made him fonder.
"I'm Carlisle Cullen, first year medical student, twenty, and I am from too many places to even mention," then, smiling, he added, "And I also like books."
Bella's face reddened, Carlisle chuckling at the sight, and she wanted to die and melt into a puddle. Trying to distract herself and calm down and not think about his mild-mannered teasing she said, "That's not really an answer and you know it, you can at least tell me the highlights of places."
His smile faded, tightened, "It's… really not worth mentioning."
Bella, looking at him, then realized how fragile he seemed, how stiff and awkward. For whatever reason, sitting here with Bella seemed to be some kind of a risk for him, and not a light one at that. Like he was waiting for her to strike out at him, or him at her, or something to happen. He was tense without looking tense, a strange stiffness in his body posture, and if he was anyone else his knuckles would be white as he squeezed his cup. Except he was Carlisle, so his hands were relaxed, his dark eyes wide and open, and he smiled even when he wanted to do anything but.
So, Bella nodded, and let it go.
Then she thought back to his age and spluttered, "Wait a minute, twenty?! Don't tell me you were one of those child prodigies!"
He awkwardly grinned, apparently exactly one of those child prodigies who was in college by sixteen or seventeen. Although he was at least bashful enough to say, "Well, I may have finished my undergraduate degree in less than four years."
Bella pouted, then said, "You could have been helping me with my stats homework this whole time, couldn't you?"
"I did get a little further in the mathematics curriculum then basic statistics," Carlisle said, smile at ease again as he took in Bella's embarrassed pout, "But you looked like you wanted to solve it for yourself."
She just groaned, because he wasn't wrong, Bella didn't like to think she was too proud for help but being a big fish in Fork's small pond had not done her any favors. These days it took way too long for her to go to anyone for help.
Well, no, it'd always taken her too long to go to anyone for help. She wouldn't go blaming that on Forks.
Then sighing she looked at the time on her phone, "Well, it looks like it's that time of the day again."
Glancing outside it was still raining, would probably be raining well into the night, so Bella was just going to have to suck it up and deal. You'd think years now of living in Forks, the land of clouds, would have given her more tolerance but she still hated the wet and the cold with a passion.
If it hadn't been for instate tuition, she thought to herself, she'd have long since migrated south for the warmth, the sunshine, and the desert she still missed. Carlisle looked outside the window with her before looking back at her, that amused almost pleased smile on his face again, "You don't like the rain, do you?"
"I hate rain," Bella said with a familiar dry irritation at the thought of it, "It's cold, and wet, and it gets absolutely everywhere."
And if she was paraphrasing Star Wars prequel films, well, then, nobody had to know that. Apparently though, Carlisle had never heard the infamous "I hate sand" speech, because he again just looked sort of vaguely amused like Bella was this endearing little kitten.
Suddenly, Bella was feeling even more embarrassed as she realized that Carlisle was only a year older than her but looked at her like she was an adorable toddler.
"You picked a very poor choice of location then," Carlisle noted, "It will be months before the rain truly stops."
"Well, in state tuition," Bella said with a shrug even as she gathered her supplies, preparing herself for the deluge and the feeling of cold soaked clothing plastered to her skin.
"I used to feel much the same way," Carlisle said, standing with her, abandoning his barely touched tea on the table, "I was born in England and the sky so often was this same dreary gray…"
He looked almost longingly, reverently, out the window, eyes searching for something as he muttered, "But it's safest, on a day like this, and I know that when it's raining I can pretend that I'm…"
"That you're what?"
He blinked, as if only just remembering she was there with him, and weakly smiled at her, the motion not touching his eyes, "Home, that I'm in England."
That was a lie, it was something else, but it was a lie he desperately needed Bella to believe and not question. So, again, she nodded and started to walk away, out the store and towards the parking lot where her monstrous red truck waited for her.
To her surprise, as she stepped outside, Carlisle was stepping out with her, completely unconcerned by the weather. She hadn't thought he would, he'd looked like he'd wanted her to go except now he looked like he was afraid she would.
Staring at him in confusion he explained, "I can walk with you to your car."
Bella bit her lip, not quite sure how she felt about that, it would be nice to be cold, miserable, wet, and contemplating Carlisle without him around but company would be nice too. So, finally, she nodded and started quickly walking to spend as little time in the rain as possible.
Bella's allotted parking space, unfortunately, was nowhere close to the campus center and so halfway through Bella was as cold, wet, and miserable as she predicted. Carlisle however was anything but, though his blonde hair was now plastered to his skin, his clothes just as soaked as hers, there was an almost wild grin on his face as he took in the rain, the clouds, and the mountains in the distance.
And here, with his pale skin, his dark eyes, and his wild smile Bella thought that he looked so beautiful that he barely looked human at all.
It's almost a relief when they reach the truck. Except, as Bella gratefully steps in and waves to Carlisle, her beautiful, terrible, truck has finally decided to up and die on her.
"No, no, oh no, come on!" Bella said, not ready for this, not today, not when she's tired and wet and more than ready to go home.
"It's not starting?" Carlisle is suddenly standing next to the window, looking in, when Bella could have sworn he had just been standing feet away. All the same Bella mournfully shook her head.
"I don't have anything to start the battery either," Bella admitted, and it didn't look like anyone else was around to help her either. Well, anyone besides Carlisle whose car, if he even had one, probably wasn't in this parking lot.
She sighed, stepped out, then said with despair, "Looks like I'm calling triple A."
Giving Carlisle a pitiful look she said, "You can go now, if you want, I'm sure you have better things to do than sit with me waiting for whoever to show up."
She wished he didn't, she didn't want to sit here by herself waiting either for triple A or one of the few cars left in the lot's owners to return and help out, and he must have seen that because he just said, "I have time."
So, they sat inside of her truck, both staring forward at the gray rain, in a strange but comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence she'd never really achieved with Jake, even at the best of times, he always wanted to fill the quiet and she'd liked that about him but it could get demanding.
With Carlisle it was like she was sitting next to an old friend she'd never realized she'd been missing.
Except, apparently it wasn't the same for him, because when he broke the silence his voice was quiet and strained, "Bella, I… I feel like I should warn you that we can't be friends."
What was that supposed to mean? Did it mean that he didn't want to be friends? That he thought Bella was coming onto him and he had a girlfriend already? Or did it mean that there was something wrong with Bella and…
She nodded slowly, trying not to let the hurt show on her face, as she said, "Well, we sit next to each other at the library, I don't think that really makes us friends Carlisle."
"It's not you," he quickly assured, and there was a strange pain in his eyes as he took in Bella's attempt at blasé indifference, "It's… It's me."
"It's not you it's me? Really?" Bella asked, feeling her eyebrows raising and a churning anger growing in her stomach, because if he wanted to say it then he should just say it, "You don't have to…"
He spoke over her, voice oddly commanding, eyes dark and deep and again looking nothing like the eyes of a twenty-year-old should, "I am not what I seem."
Bella stopped, felt her anger fading and something colder and sadder taking its place as she looked at this man who seemed to be trying to tell Bella to run in the other direction from him, "What do you think I see?"
His smile seemed to cut at himself even as he looked at her, self-derisive and filled with pain, "There are reasons, Bella, that no one has ever chosen to sit at my table in the library. Why you've ignored all the signs, I don't know, but you have and… And I think that you should pay closer attention and listen to your instincts."
"My instincts?" Bella asked, she looked him up and down, and there was something strange and almost otherworldly about him. From the beginning he'd looked out of place in an ordinary library, but then Bella looked at him again, at his matted drying hair, his pale face, and those dark eyes that looked so helplessly across at her, and she could only say, "My instincts say that you're worth it, Carlisle, and that you can be friends with whoever you want to be."
He looked like he wanted to laugh or cry, he did neither though, just said, "You haven't seen much of the world then, Bella, because pleasant faces can often hide demons."
"Well, I did come from Forks, smallest rain-soaked town on the planet," Bella noted, then with determination held out her hand, "Here, give me your phone."
"My phone?" he asked, somewhat startled, but Bella just nodded.
"We're exchanging numbers, because that's what people do when they talk and are study buddies and maybe on the way to things like friendship," Bella said, even as carefully, so carefully, so that he didn't touch her skin Carlisle placed his phone in her hands, "That way you can call me if you're in any trouble or I can call you if I'm in any trouble."
She quickly programmed in her number, sent a message to herself, then did the same for her own phone.
Then, just like that, she passed his phone back to him with a wink and a grin, "See, study buddies, not friends."
His lips quirked upwards, but he seemed pleasantly resigned, more, there was a lighter hope in his eyes as he took the phone from her and put it back in his pocket, "I'm not sure study buddy is much better."
But it was, even as they sat in a now more comfortable silence, because Bella had never really had friends and she was fairly certain that Carlisle hadn't either. Study buddies though, study buddies had to be a safe route for both of them.
Bella had never liked parties. Granted, she'd only ever been to a few of them. Back when she was strange, new, and exciting outsider in Forks Bella had been the belle of a few balls. She found herself at dances and after parties with Jessica, Lauren, Mike, Tylor, and others standing in a corner by the chips and punch and feeling entirely out of place in these darkened rooms with the pulsing too loud music.
She'd made a point to avoid frat parties in general at college.
However, for all the friends Bella didn't have, when Angela came to visit from her own college Bella some way or another found herself in a dark pit of a room, standing next to the punch bowl as the loud music with the too loud bass thrummed with people shouting over each other to be heard, that is, if they weren't too busy draping over and sucking each other's tongues.
She didn't even know where Angela had gone anymore, Bella wasn't the only person she'd come to see Ben had met up with them earlier, and Bella had more than reassured her that Angela that it would be more than fine to sneak off and reconnect with Ben rather than be forced to have girl time with a lonely Bella.
Bella, often thought, that Hell would be something like a frat party. It wouldn't be fire and brimstone, it'd be sweat, loud erratic music that didn't even pretend to have a melody any more, the smell of cheap liquor and beer, bodies pressing together, wandering hands, and wandering eyes that would even glance over at Bella in her turtleneck sweater and jeans.
Absently she looked at her phone, thinking maybe it was time to text Angela and call it a night, say they'd meet together tomorrow for brunch with Ben or whoever she wanted. She spared another glance through the room, careful not to make too close eye-contact with anyone there, but Angela's hair was not in sight or else not easy to find.
She wished she had invited Carlisle, but since that meeting at the campus center, even though they still sat together in the library and talked she… She somehow knew that for all Bella didn't belong in places like this Carlisle belonged here even less.
"Who are you looking for and would you mind if I trade places with whoever it is?"
Bella jumped, started, turned to see a boy around her age, who was standing entirely too close. She took a step back, wheezing and grabbing at her heart as she took him in. He was… very pretty, almost Carlisle pretty but in a different way. He was as oddly pale as Carlisle, also wiry and tall with substantial circles beneath his eyes and sculpted features, but he had a younger look to him like he could still be in high school. His hair was comprised longer copper strands that stuck out boyishly from his head, glinting in the dim lights of the room and his smile was a smug knowing thing as if he knew every song that had ever been played and ever would be. His eyes though… They weren't like Carlisle's, they were a dark and dull burgundy color, like wine, and something about that fact seemed terribly important.
He looked at her, his smile disappearing and his brow furrowing, as if she'd just presented herself as some kind of a puzzle that he didn't know how to solve yet. All he said though was, in that same smooth and assured tone, "I didn't scare you, did I?"
Bella normally would have shook her head, perhaps should for politeness, but something about him put her on edge. On edge in the way that Carlisle seemed to constantly expect for himself to put her on edge. He seemed nice, and if someone like this had talked to her in high school she'd have been over the moon, but he was… So certain of her answer, so assured that he wanted her, and in that fact Bella couldn't help but wonder what it was exactly that he wanted.
So instead, with her own brows furrowing and irritation rising in her voice as she tried to speak above the music (something this stranger seemed to do infuriatingly well), "Actually, you kind of did."
"Sorry," he said, that devilish smile back, clearly not sorry at all. Then, holding a hand out to hers, he said, "Edward Mason."
His fingernails, she didn't know why she focused on them and not his long tapered pale fingers, but in the dim lighting his fingernails gleamed like polished moonstone. Slowly, hesitantly, she took it, and his hand was freezing.
Her own hand quickly retreated, her eyes glancing around the room desperately, seeing if anyone at all was looking at her. There were a few glances, but no stares, and suddenly Bella found that she wanted to be the center attention, she wanted everyone looking and watching and keeping this boy at a polite distance from her.
"Sorry, cold hands," Edward explained, still grinning that boyish grin, and then eyes lingering on her asked, "So, what brings a girl like you to a place like this?"
"Poor decisions," Bella said, not having the heart or will to lie, especially since lying had never gotten her anywhere good, the truth was always written on her face.
He laughed, impressed by her joke, and for a moment she thought she was just being paranoid. For a boy at a frat party Edward was being perfectly polite, far politer than many, and there was this rogue boyish charm about him that Bella did like.
His eyes though…
They were dark and filled with a strange hunger that was nothing like the hunger of a frat boy.
His head tilted, brow furrowed again, smile slanted to the side as he mused, "You're very hard to read, has anyone told you that?"
She blinked, flushed, and as the blood rose to her cheeks she imagined his eyes seemed to get darker, "No, actually, everyone has always said I'm something like an open book."
He laughed, a short derisive laugh, "Well, I'm a very astute reader of books, as it were, and you, my friend, are perfectly indecipherable."
"Oh, that can't be…" Bella started but he was motioning to the crowd, to shorter dark-haired boy on the dance floor.
"His name is Michael Peterson, he's a junior, and he wishes he was studying for his chem test but knows the frat demands he come here and at least attempt to get laid. However, he knows he's not nearly charming, athletic, or handsome enough to get lucky unless he finds some girl truly trashed."
Now, obviously this was some sort of party trick, Edward Mason was probably a part of this frat and thought it was funny to 'read' people like he was Sherlock Holmes or something. Still, aside from being petty and cruel and the dumbest pick-up tactic she had ever seen something in her stomach soured and fell through her like a stone, real fear blossomed inside her, even as she quietly said, "That's not funny."
Edward didn't seem to care, he pointed to the next, a girl this time, "This is Jane Black, who likes to believe herself the life of the party and is desperately looking for a good time. Right now she's eyeing me like a slab of meat, watching me motion towards her, and thinking, 'Oh, he is delicious, I can probably get him away from the prude in the sweater, she's entirely too virginal for his sort of fun."
Bella flushed harder, ignoring the way Edward smirked at her burning cheeks as if the delighted him, no, pushed his hunger closer to the surface.
"Seriously," Bella emphasized, "Edward, this isn't funny."
"And maybe I'll take her up on it, some other night, but not tonight. Tonight, is reserved for the books without words or pictures," Edward lightly, ever so lightly with that cold finger, tapped across her forehead, "Tonight, my pretty new friend, is for you."
Bella resisted the urge to take a step back, more than sure that this was what Edward wanted, that he wanted her scared and intimidated and perhaps intrigued, and asked stiffly, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I have something of a gift, that I know everyone in this room, in any room, on an intimate level and here you are, Bella, and I don't know a thing."
Bella paled, her foot unwillingly sliding back, "How do you know my name?"
"So, it is Bella," Edward said, nodding to himself as if something had just been confirmed for him, "Bella Swan, freshman, English major, likes the library, came here with… Angela Weber though she of course is too busy with her long-distance boyfriend Ben to care at the moment."
Angela would never have given Edward the time of day, never would have told him anything about Bella, and Ben certainly wouldn't have either. Suddenly, Edward's party trick seemed far more menacing than any party trick had a right to.
At her discomfort, her rising fear, he smirked.
"Say, what do you say you and I step out of here for a bite to eat?" Edward asked, all smiles, hands in pockets, the eternal ruffled schoolboy.
"I'd say that I'd like for you to leave me alone now," Bella said quietly, while Edward's eyebrows raised, smile stretching.
"Oh, I have scared you, haven't I?" he asked, studying her face, head tilted as if listening to her heart hammering in her chest, "You don't need to be scared you know, I do try to keep innocent virgins outside of my diet, mostly. It plays hell with your conscious and you can never quite drown out the taste."
Bella wanted to vomit.
He leaned closer, reached out at a speed that was uncannily faced to twirl one of her dark locks between his pale fingers, fingernails still gleaming like stolen jewels, "You may smell divine, Bella Swan, like the finest of ambrosia that would tempt even the most pious of saints, but you are also a puzzle and I have found so few puzzles to occupy my time."
Stiffly, voice catching on every syllable, she asked, "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're not funny?"
He laughed, and it was a beautiful and terrible laugh, because it had that same strange bell-like charm to it that Carlisle's had but none of its warmth, "The word you're looking for, Bella, is charming."
It was as if he and Carlisle Cullen were two sides of the same coin, made from the same strange material, and yet they couldn't be more different. At once Bella knew four things.
The first, if she left this room, with or without Edward Mason and his promise of late night dinner, she would die. They'd find her body in some alley downtown, mutilated and desecrated, and even Charlie with all his police work would never be able to find Edward.
The second, she could not stay here forever, and like Carlisle Cullen in the library Edward Mason she thought would have his same infinite and inhuman patience. People would leave, Bella would need to leave, and the moment that happened she would be gone.
The third, no one could help her, Edward looking at her, watching her face in amusement seemed to regard everyone else as little more than flies. He could hear every thought in her head and somehow she knew that not one of them, not even a call to the cops, would be a threat to him. Edward was talking to her now because it suited him to talk to her, because this was what Edward did for fun.
The last, the largest leap of faith and perhaps her only hope, if no one could help her then Carlisle Cullen, somehow Carlisle Cullen could.
She brought out her phone, ignoring Edward's raised eyebrows, shielding the screen from his eyes and furiously texted Carlisle's number, her first message to him. She sent him the address, the house name, and this message, "I know it's late, and I know you might not be on campus, but there's this guy here and he's really scaring me. I need you to come and pick me up."
"A message to your boyfriend?" Edward asked when she had finished.
"Study buddy," Bella said, her own lips twisting into a mockery of a smile, "We share a table at the library."
Edward laughed, a full throated hearty laugh, "Oh, Bella Swan, you really are a strange girl, aren't you?"
Dully, voice flat, mouth still twisted into the half-smile and half-grimace, Bella responded shortly, "I try."
They stood in silence, Bella counting down the seconds in her mind, waiting for her phone to buzz or ring or something and praying that Carlisle was coming. She started to sweat, a cold fearful sweat beneath Edward's gaze, heart pounding even as the room remained blissfully unaware of Bella's growing terror.
Carlisle was not her friend, not really, not hardly, but she prayed he would come all the same because he seemed like the kind to do that, for family, friends, and even strange girls who sat across from him in the library. She imagined him driving or running through the dark streets in the drizzle, up the steps of the frat house, and he'd look like he did when he'd walked with her to her card. A wild, ancient, thing that had fallen through the cracks of time to this modern age.
The light played off of Edward's skin and his red hair, reflecting off brightly as if his skin was made of tiny crystals, and in the spots of light that kissed his cheekbones and reflected off his eyes were not burgundy or maroon but instead a deep, dull, crimson shifting into something black.
"Bella," Bella turned, slumping with relief and smiling, because there out of place, golden and light and pristine in this den of sweat and hormones and terror was Carlisle Cullen. He looked across at her, smiling back, and then his eyes moved to Edward.
His face slackened, a dull horror and grief overtook them, a rising fear. Bella turned to look at Edward, saw recognition, anger, rage, betrayal, and then a twisted painful amusement.
"I see," was all Edward said, then, looking down at Bella, he smiled and dipped his head, "Some other time then, Bella, it seems I'll be making Jane's acquaintance after all."
And he sauntered, a smooth gliding motion that screamed of a lion stalking his prey, as he weaved his way into the dancing mob towards where Jane Black eagerly awaited him with glittering, sultry, and unaware eyes.
Carlisle moved towards her, hands shaking, grabbing her shoulders. Even through her sweater his hands were freezing, like Edward's had been freezing, "Bella, we need to go."
Bella turned to look at him in question, then back towards Edward, somehow knowing that Carlisle had silently traded Bella's life for Jane's. Carlisle said nothing though, but his face, oh his face was twisted in resigned despair as he shook his head.
We can't help her.
"Bella, come on, we have to go," he tugged on her arm, pulling her out of the house and onto the street where they slowly but surely walked to Bella's car in silence. Bella interrupting only to text out a short, simple, message to Angela that she had decided to go home.
And all Bella could see was Jane, this girl she didn't know, who Edward Mason could apparently read at a glance. And when they reached her big beautiful truck, the truck that had seen her through so much, she reached for Carlisle, pressing into the unnaturally hard contours of his body, and sobbed.
Carlisle stood there, perfectly silent, hand shaking as he stroked her hair and stared out into the street, his hands so very cold.
Author's Note: Edward really makes a much better villain than he does a romantic lead, that boy is creepy as hell. More details of the backstory of this story to come in the next chapter (as this will either be two or three parts). In the meantime, enjoy the beginning of this Carlisle/Bella and creepy Edward angst fest brought to you by a promised story involving Carlisle, Bella, and Edward as a creepy deer vampire.
Thanks for reading, reviews are greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight