Welcome to my brand new story Undisclosed Desires.It used to be named Lethal Temptation, but whatever. As I've explained on my profile page, this isn't my first fanfiction even though I only have one uploaded. I wanted to start over because I was unhappy with my writing style. And I also explained that I upload when I upload – I never have a set date because I'm extremely busy most of the time. The start of this story is going to start off slow, and I apologize for this, but we need to get into Bella's head and how she thinks before we start off with romance and drama, eh? Full Summary: Bella moves in with the Cullen family after her mother passes away and finds that she's not the only one that's abnormal. After a meeting with the mysterious Edward Cullen, Bella feels secret desires creeping through her mind as well as Edward's. "I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart." ExB, normal pairs, vamps, may be a little OOC. Undisclosed Desires
Chapter 1.
"I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide.
It's cold and loveless,
I won't let you be denied.
~Bella
It was exactly what I expected. Tall green trees, mountains, cabins, farms; the list was endless for a small town like this. I was excited as much as I was anxious to be here, yet the repentant nagging of my aunt in the back of my head made it that much harder to concentrate on what I truly felt. I didn't have enough energy to pull myself into my brain and flick off the switch anymore today though. My body was aching with exhaustion from the plane ride over, my legs felt weak and it felt as if my entire torso weighed five times its normal weight.
But I had no complaints, well, I did, but it's not like I could spout them off to anyone. Oh yeah, I'm really tired and have headaches all the time because I can read minds, and don't freak out and call the military or anything, because this is totally normal.
"Bella," I turned my head to left quickly, surprised, "Did you hear what I asked?" I shook my head no. My aunt giggled, mumbling a quick 'teenagers' under her breath before re-asking her question. "I asked if you wanted something to eat before we headed all the way into town. There's no McDonald's or anything, but there's a farmers market and a grocery store if you prefer that instead, I mean, I have frozen french fries and nuggets and hamburger patties in the freezer at home, but if you don't want that I could–"
"Esme, it's okay, really, I'm fine." I wasn't hungry, it was the truth; the thought of hamburgers dripping with grease disgusted me and plus, my appetite was lost when the headache gave in full throttle three hours into the flight. I clasped my hands in front of my stomach and smiled at my aunt. "I'll just stick with an apple."
She smiled back, nodded and accelerated the car forward, passing the road to the right that lead into Leavenworth. Esme was of all things, my aunt, but she was in no way related to me or my parents – I guess she could be counted as my godmother. I wasn't quite sure how they met exactly; it didn't matter to me. All that mattered was that her and her family are taking me now since my parents can't be, simple as that.
This wasn't the first time I've met her. She was with me when my mom was in her coffin, slowly getting lowered into the ground with people surrounding her. Esme held my hand the entire time, held me by the arms, kissed my head and let me cry on her shoulder. It was an act of random kindness from a very close stranger. Many of my tears though were from the secrets I kept from everyone close.
My mom died from alcohol poisoning. It was self induced. I heard her broken, last thoughts as she succumbed to a seizure from dehydration. I tried; I tried so hard to get to her before her heart stopped beating, but I was too late.
I gritted my teeth together and looked out the window at the trees. We passed a river with a few people rafting down it and I focused my thoughts on that and what it would feel like to float down it.
"That's Wenatchee River," Esme murmured loudly, probably catching me looking at it. I nodded, remembering the name somewhere from the research I did on the computer. I liked to know what I'm facing before I charge it head on I guess.
Plain Washington was, of all things it could be, plain. As Esme said, there were no fast food restaurants, no movie theatres, no big buildings filled with underpaid workers, not even one starbucks for crying out loud! I really hoped Esme had coffee in her cupboards, if not, she was going to have to face Bella Swan's wrath of crabbiness.
I'd rather have the power to ravish up some coffee midair, complete with the cup and cream, than to read minds…
But that's just me.
I scoffed internally at myself but Esme looked at me strangely out the corner of her eye so I must have done it out loud. I shrugged. There was no way I could explain to her what was going on in my mind.
Her mind on the other hand, was loud and crystal clear; poor dear. She must be living inside her own head after what happened to Renee. It's quite a shame she couldn't be here today, but after what happened to Charlie, I can understand why she did what she did. I'd probably too if Carlisle…
Esme trailed off and looked down at the steering wheel for a few seconds before looking back up. I could tell what she meant by that – why stay in the world when your only reason to live is gone from it? I wouldn't know. Her thoughts continued on, but they were quick, a little too fast; it was almost hard to keep up with them. I frowned and looked at her.
Her eyes were locked on the windy roads trailing uphill in front of us, but I could clearly see the mesmerizing color. They were amber, chocolate even. No, they weren't brown, not even close, more towards a very dark orange mixture with splashes of dark brown and gold and yellow. I've seen a lot of different colored eyes in my seventeen years of life – the prettiest of blues, greens, browns – but never amber.
And underneath her beautiful eyes and long black eyelashes were bruise like imprints on her flawless pale skin. Maybefrom a lack of sleep, I thought. I sighed a little then, wishing that I could have a complexion like hers and pull it off.
Do I have something on my face…?
I blinked, took my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from cackling like a hyena and looked away out the window to the trees that stretched to the heavens.
I silently mused to myself wondering if my mom and dad were with the trees.
"The kids are at school right now and Carlisle is at the hospital for a few more hours. He wants to get home earlier than the kids so he can brief you over each one before all hell runs loose." Esme laughed, sticking the key to the house through the keyhole, "More like 'before Emmett runs loose'."
"What's wrong with Emmett?"
"Oh nothing's wrong with him… you'll see when you meet him." She smiled and pushed the door open, before standing back and gesturing me inside with a sweep of her hand. "He's just a bit – eccentric."
"How so?" I asked. I stepped through the threshold and held my breath as I gazed around me.
With his superhuman powers of course, she giggled in her mind. What? "His sense of humor is far more immature than those of others."
"Ah." I was still confused about what she unveiled in her mind. I shook it off and pretended not to let it have an effect on me, yet, I wondered if she was serious. It could just be a joke between the two. Maybe he's good at chess or something.
"What do you think?"
"I'm… still at a loss for words," I whispered, realizing she was asking about the house. There were two sets of stairs – one to my left, and one to my right that lead up at an angle to a loft that probably lead to other rooms. The railings were a piece of art by themselves; they twisted and turned up the stairs in a way I couldn't even describe, yet so beautifully because the deep brown color blended in well with the gold of the carpets. Between the stairs was a hallway. Staring up directly above my head was a golden chandelier with thousands of little white candle sticks. I wondered how long it would take someone to light them all. "It's gorgeous."
Esme beamed at me. "I designed it myself, with Alice's help with colors. She's the fashionista of the house."
"You did a magnificent job, I really don't feel like I belong in here," I smiled and looked back at her, "Who's Alice?"
She belongs everywhere. She belongs, somewhere, and with someone. "Alice is my daughter. Well, as close as a daughter as she can be to me." Technically, she's older than I am... What did she mean? Was Alice older mentally? I rubbed my head, trying to get rid of her cryptic little thoughts. "I adopted Alice when she was very little, along with the others."
"How many others are there?" I asked, slightly panicked.
"There are 5."
"You and Carlisle adopted each one?"
"Yes. Alice when she was 4, Jasper and Rosalie when they were 6, Emmett when he was almost 8, and Edward when he just turned 10. Their parents died about a month or so beforehand, and their stories are horrifying, yet their imperturbable about them. They have to feel they trust you first before they tell you anything about their past. Except for Alice; she doesn't remember anything. It was like anything relating to her in anyway is gone from the Earth, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind telling you anything she knows. She's quite exuberant about talking – I hope you like to listen," Esme chuckled and urged me forward with her head. I turned to the hallway, excited to see the rest of the masterpiece called a house.
My room was on the fourth floor, two doors down on the right from Edward. From what Esme told me on the way up, this was convenient for me since Jasper and Alice have a room on the second floor, and Rosalie and Emmett have a room on the third.
And they were all together. And not in the really close sibling way with little pecks and long hugs, no, more like, grunts and moans could be heard if I were to sleep on any other floor besides the fourth.
I had a feeling I was the only innocent one here.
"But what about Edward? Won't I hear – things?" I could feel my cheeks warm up considerably much more than they already were.
Esme had shaken her head and laughed loudly, it was almost a beautiful melody as it bounced of the walls. "Oh no, no. Edward is alone in that general area. He has many girls who would love to accompany him for that… activity; however he shares no interest with them. I would say I'm glad for that as well as I am concerned. He's 17 years old," 100 years old, "and never looks at women." Again with the cryptic remark – is he 100 years old mentally? Is he wise or something?
Fuck me, this was killing my head.
I stood in front of my door, preparing myself for the probable pink bedding and purple walls on the other side. I was never a girl; well I am a girl, but not one that enjoys make-up and wearing thongs to school and such. It was never me or my personality.
Of course, I took care of myself – I didn't mind dabbing on some eyeliner or mascara, but I never went over the top with foundation, lipstick or fake eyelashes. It seemed silly to me and anyways, I didn't need the gross face stuff. My skin was fair and free of acne and pimples.
My hair on the other hand; I don't know what to do with it. I've never used product (I didn't know how) therefore it's plain and boring. It's not lifeless, it actually has some bounce to it, but all it ever is, is brown soft waves.
Groaning, I grabbed the handle and thrust myself into my new bedroom.
I was expecting little annoying stuffed animals and frilly sheets and Hannah Montana posters, but not this. This was so much more than what I deserved.
The carpet is pure white and it's whiter than my ass, so that's saying something. I flicked my eyes up to the left and there stood the biggest bed I have ever set my chocolate eyes on. The pillows were dark blue, the comforter was a lighter shade of that blue, and the bedpost was pitch black. What surprised me most were the walls – the one directly opposite of me was basically a window altogether. It stretched from the bottom of the floor to the ceiling and to each corner on the left and right. The other walls were checkered like a chess board game, white and black squares ran along the entire length of the walls.
It all matched and was actually my style. My room at my mom and dad's house was as simple as one could be. I didn't mind at all, it was just a room, but Esme told me that a person can tell so much about someone just by their room. My old room fit me because I saw myself as a straightforward and effortless person, therefore my room was to the point, just like me. There were no secrets; I never hid anything unless it was absolutely essential to.
Once I hid my diary under my mattress when I was 11 because I was afraid someone would read the few entries I wrote about the boy I liked. And now that I think about it, I can't even remember the boy's name. Travie, Travis, Trenton, Tristan.
Some things aren't important but seem like they are when you're in the moment.
I was just finishing up putting my clothes in my walk-in closet (which is insanely big, by the way) when I heard three loud rapid knocks on my bedroom door. It was so unexpected that I jumped and tripped over the velvet leather couch that was in the middle of my closet. Because, you know, everyone has couches in their closets…
"Come in!"
I walked out of my closet, fixing my hair when a tall man with blonde, almost white hair walked in and smiled. I wasn't into older men, I figured he was in his early thirties or even younger but this man was the definition of attractive – everything was defined. His teeth were pure white, straight and shined off the lights; his jaw line came out rigidly but blended in well with his high cheek bones. His eyes were exactly like Esme's, except a little lighter, they were almost gold, and his skin was as pale as Esme's too. Strange, I thought, they don't look related.
Maybe it's just the location; they really don't get a lot of sun here. There's no explanation for the eyes though and it nagged at the back of my mind.
"Oh – uh, hi, I'm Bella," I stammered out quickly.
The man's smile grew wider and warmer. "Hello, my name is Carlisle. It's so wonderful to finally meet you." He stepped forward and held out his hand for me to shake. When we touched, my hand trembled a little from the surprise of the coldness of his skin but I held his hand firmly – something I had learned from my mom after my dad passed.
She doesn't seem afraid. Esme was right…
I wanted to ask why I would want to be afraid. Was he dangerous? Were all of the Cullen family dangerous? I had a feeling that I already knew but wasn't quite aware of it yet.
"You're Esme's husband?"
"No, I'm her plumber."
I frowned confusingly until I heard him bellow out a laugh. I rolled my eyes and laughed lightly, looking down at his shoes.
"For a plumber, you must bring in a lot of cheese. I like your shoes," I looked back up at him timidly, hoping I didn't hit a nerve commenting on his salary.
"Oh these?" Carlisle looked down and clicked his heels together. "I like them too, thank you. They're a pair of Berluti Rapiécés Reprisés'. I've had them – for a very long time."
Oh what is it? 78 years now? I should really look into getting another pair. I think I was just going to ignore all the little comments inside everyone's heads; just write them off as sarcasm or something.
Carlisle left my room after going after every little detail of the other kids in the family, his job, Esme and what she does, the school schedule and the usual routines around the house. He had stopped abruptly and turned to look me into the eyes. In his mind, he had been worried he was overwhelming me with all the information he was injecting in me. He was worried that talking about his family would make me think about my family.
I was perfectly fine with it actually. Maybe the shock still hasn't registered to me yet, but, if I thought about my mom or dad, I would try to think about the Christmas' we had together and all the good memories we shared. Quite a few times bloody images would flash through my mind though.
And Carlisle telling me about his family excited me as much as it did pull me back further into my own personal darkness.
I began wandering around the fourth floor, looking into every room – except Edwards – just out of interest, and perhaps because of my being paranoid. No, not paranoia, just interest, I told myself. I knew that it wasn't just interest judging by the way my body jittered and my heart thumped faster, but I continued to stretch myself into the denial of it.
Shaking my head, I grew a little annoyed that I was arguing with myself. It was childish really, but I knew it wasn't my entire fault. I walked back down the hall to my room, but kept my eyes on Edward's door the entire time.
"Screw it," I whispered.
I need to know what's in there, for my benefit.
I strutted quickly to the door, opened it and walked in without hesitation. What confronted me on the other side was surprising. Carlisle had told me that Edward was the quiet, brooding one of the group, that he rarely spoke unless a question was asked or his opinion was needed. Based off of that, I was expecting an ominous room with curtains drawn over windows and a lot of dark colors.
It seems that whatever I expect comes out the exact opposite of what I'm expecting. Should I expect this a lot? I grinned at myself and walked further into the Edward's bedroom.
It was light; that was the first thing I noticed. Like my room, a window stretched to all four corners of the entire wall in front of me. Since his room was placed in the corner of the house, the window traveled all the way to my right to the next wall over. Light shined in onto the white walls and the only dark thing that stood out was the carpet, which was pitch black. It was shaggy though, almost straight out from an 80's sitcom except without the smell of marijuana stained in it.
Edward had no bed – just a white couch. It was in the shape of an 'L' against the far left corner where the two windows met and a couple red pillows adorned on it. Did he sleep on that? Sure, the couch looks comfortable, but not comfortable enough to sleep eight hours on every night. I looked all around the room just to make sure no one was hiding and watching me but something caught my eye and I walked slowly towards it in awe.
The wall on my right had the biggest collection of music that I've ever seen, and I have a relatively good group of CD's myself. The whole wall was just filled with music and in the middle of them was a huge TV; I think it was a 72".
My fingers reached out before I could think and touched the shiny spines which were surprisingly not dusty at all. There were about two or three albums per artist and all the albums were in alphabetical order,– Abba, Alanis Morissette, Bees Gees, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Charlie Watts, David Bowie, Def Leppard, Elton John, Elvis Presley, Eric Clapton… It must have cost a fortune.
I was never one to snoop in on anyone's personal belongings but this was too good to pass up.
And as I was smiling and staring and touching the spines of the CD's, I should have noticed the creak from the floor behind me. I should have noticed the tension that started to fill the room. I should have noticed the person shaking and standing behind me in the reflection of the TV and the way his eyes glinted in anger.
"What in the hell are you doing?"
SNEAK PEAK:
Her scent swirled around the air. It filled my lungs as I breathed it in, it scorched my throat and made it burn, made my body convulse into a hundred little shivers. It took control of my mind.
I wanted her.
I can't guarantee, but I might possibly have the next chapter up within a week.
Reviews make Edward not eat Bella like kentucky fried chicken.
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