i.
Vision: n. an experience of seeing someone or something in a dream or trance, or as a supernatural apparition.
The dreams always start the same. He's standing in the middle of a room. Mirrors are all around him, and his body is cold from the sudden sensation of death. He feels like he's stepped into a graveyard and there was a new coffin just waiting for a corpse to drop into it. He raises his hands and tries to rub away the goose bumps on his flesh. He's never been so scared before.
As his eyes take in the area around him, from the various mirrors to the ballet poles and the dust dancing through the air before settling on the old chairs. This place was not that old. Two maybe three years old. But the various people that had danced through the studio, their auras were still here. He could feel it.
But those happy auras were outweighed by the chill of death.
He shivered.
A flash of movement caught his attention, out the corner of his eye. White, dark brown and dark colors blur together and he can barely make out the shape of a man.
He hears the laugh. Its bone chilling and he has to swallow his scream before he feels something touch him. The scream escapes him and he falls into the darkness again.
Edward always noticed when something was off. He knew when someone wasn't feeling well or their thoughts were jumbled. He didn't need to be a mind reader to know that much. He read people. It was something a vampire picked up as they existed through the years. And what he noticed about Mike Newton was that the boy was not sleeping well.
The dark circles under his eyes told him as such.
The distorted thoughts about death, a studio and screaming were the second clue.
Edward ran his eyes along the young man sitting in his English class. His blonde hair was a mess, looking more and more like a bird's nest with each passing day. His clothes were no better, looking wrinkled and from what Edward could see, his shirt was inside out. Whether the human knew it or not was something else. And there were moments when he would mumble to himself or scribble down things in his notebook. Edward only caught tail ends of it.
Graveyard.
Chills.
Crimson eyes.
Mike shivered suddenly. His hand stopped and the pencil fell from his grasp and onto the desk. Edward watched it roll off the table and hit the floor. Mike's entire form was still, his shoulders straight and his skin paling.
Moments later the boy had jumped out of his seat. The commotion caused the teacher to pause and look at him.
"Mr. Newton?" asked Mrs. Flitch with a warning tone. The blonde looked at her and she stilled before he reached for his bag and rushed out the class room. The door slammed behind him and everyone watched the door like it would catch fire at any moment.
Edward wouldn't put it past them. He glanced back Mrs. Flitch and concentrated, trying to find what had spooked her about Mike. The image he found sent a slight chill through him. Mike had looked up, his eyes no longer blue. They were a silver shade but it blended in with the whites of his eyes. He had rushed out the room so quickly she had only seen a glimpse and passed it off as a trick of the light. Mike's eyes were blue, a light shade of blue, so maybe the lighting had messing with her.
Waiting for a few moments, the mind reader rose from his seat and muttered an excuse about going to the bathroom. He ignored Jasper's look of concern as he threw open the door—careful of his strength, and headed towards the boy's bathroom. He could hear Mike retching before he even opened the door.
"Mike," he called out.
He was answered by a groan before a muttered response. "Go away Cullen."
Edward laughed and followed his heartbeat to the last stall. He pushed open the door and started at the boy leaning against the wall. His face was pale, like an apparition had just departed his body. The hue of his eyes were dimmed, while his lips were blue. Sweat glistened along his brow and the vampire knelt before him, wiping it off with his sleeve. He could almost hear Alice berating him for messing up a perfectly good shirt. He didn't care.
He never cared about Alice's little fashion tips.
"You're a mess," he told the blonde. The human tried to smile but he groaned and slumped against Edward's chest. "You're burning up."
Mike was beyond feverish. He felt like a werewolf, hot to the touch but without the sickening smell. Fingers caught the material of his shirt and Mike's laboring breathes filled the air as he pressed his forehead to cool skin. "I'm sick you idiot."
Edward laughed. "I can tell. I could get the nurse if you want."
"No."
"Mike you're burning up. I can take you to my father is you want."
"No doctors," muttered the blonde. "It'll go away. It always goes away."
"What will go away?"
Mike looked him in the eye, his lips moving to form the words when the whites of his eyes eclipse the irises and his entire body went slack.
"Mike!"
But he couldn't hear him. He wasn't in the bathroom with his stomach twisted in knots while leaning against Edward Cullen. He was sitting in a room, a choir room. There were people sitting there, their faces blurred as they stared forward. Mike looked around. He could hear music, the sounds of string and wind instruments before a voice floored him.
It was like the angels were merged into one. It was smoothing, beautiful as the song filled the room. A song of a broken relationship. Someone had broken this angel's heart. He felt a rush on anger go through him at that revelation. He turned his head looking at the seraph, finding a young man standing there serenading the audience.
Coiffed chestnut hair with a slender body structure. Rose tinted cheeks and fair skin were covered in layers of clothing. A pair of fire engine red skinny jeans, accented with black trims and black booties. The shirt was an Alexander McQueen button up shirt the color of ivory and had black buttons. His blazer was black and formfitting. Eyes that were a mixture of blue, grey and green stared at him. He could see the soft shade of sadness blanketing him. Mike found himself walking towards the boy and his hand reach out for the boy.
A flash of honey colored hair and guarded topaz eyes passed him. He knew those eyes, had seen them in his class. He knew that tall lanky shape, the light scars that painted his arms. He knew the chill of death and feeling of remorse and fear.
What was this boy to Jasper Hale?
The boy seemed to feel his touch and turned his head, meeting his eyes. The music stopped and the angel's song ended. Eyes locked on Mike's, the fair skinned boy tilted his head in confusion.
"Is something wrong, Kurt?"
Mike opened his mouth to talk when he felt the vision pulling him away. He was being sucked back to reality. He locked eyes with the boy.
"I'll see you again!" he vowed. He never went back on a promise he made.
The scene began to fade and he was back in the bathroom leading against Edward Cullen. He felt his head start to throb as he tried to sit up. The vampire grabbed him before he could even register what was going on and looked at him with concerned golden eyes. "What happened to you?" he demanded.
"Headache."
"And your eyes turn white when you have a headache?"
Mike cursed. "Sometimes."
"Sometimes is too many times."
"I'm fine Cullen," Mike snapped and shot up, feeling himself getting dizzy as he did. He turned and dry heaved into the toilet. He coughed twice, trying to regain his breathing before he got up again and looked at the vampire.
"Mike that's not healthy."
"Oh and ingesting the blood of animals is, or pretending to be human when you're obviously not is not normal or healthy? I am aware of the affects this condition has on my body. So back off because I'm not some fucking experiment for you observe."
Edward looked at him.
How did he know? They were careful.
He shook his head, focusing on the issue at hand. "Condition?" he quipped. He watched as Mike stilled for a moment before he shook his head.
"Forget it," muttered the blonde as he moved to stand.
"Where are you going?" Edward inquired as he watched the human move towards the door. Mike paused at the door and turned, his eyes showing flicks of silver in their depths. Edward stilled, feeling a dull tug at his heart at that look. He never noticed how interesting his eyes were.
"I'm going home," Mike told him and turned adding over his shoulder as he left. "Don't even think about following me. You'll have something else to worry about."
Edward frowned. What was he talking about?
He moved to stand and followed the blonde out the bathroom. As he headed down the hallway, a scent tickled his nose. The vampire paused, the burning in his throat becoming unbearable. He could feel the black starting to bleed into his eyes and he shut them tight as if the lights above him stung and continued his trek towards following Mike. He had it to the doors of the school and pushed them open, just in time to see Mike getting into his car.
The blonde seemed to have noticed him because their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. Edward watched as the blue in his eyes darkened a bit before Mike peeled out of the parking lot and drove away.
Golden eyes watched him go, the owner of those eyes feeling new questions form in his mind. What was Mike hiding? What was with the silver hue of his eyes and the headaches? Was Mike even human?
Edward didn't know what, but he hoped that Mike was.