::{Crimson Latch}::
By Akane Cullen
NOTE: I DO NOT OWN THE TWILIGHT SAGA NOR DO I OWN THE
CHARACTERS IN THE STORY EXCEPT FOR MY OC.
I HOPE THAT YOU'LL ENJOY READING THIS AS THIS
IS MY SECOND TWILIGHT FANFICTION.
THIS STORY TAKES PLACE AFTER
BREAKING DAWN.
(SPOILER ALERT..!)
[PLEASE R&R]
TWILIGHT BELONGS TO:
STEPHENIE MEYER ©
FANFICTION STORYLINE BELONGS TO:
AKANE CULLEN
Preface
I stood face to face with her, the girl I always referred as to "sister". I was welcomed into their home, their wide mansion.
I was greeted by her in a strange way, in an inhuman way. Her husband stood briskly next to her, his tall, muscular body standing tall. He had a welcoming grin that spread across his face with strange-colored eyes; he stared at me in a creepy but warm way, as if he was pretending to greet me but soon would attack me when we were alone.
My- our mother patted my shoulder from behind me and whispered for me to say hello. I refused, nervous and shy on what they would say or do.
"Hello," My sister said in a dry, low voice but in a way a bit welcoming. She let out her trembling hand and revealed to me her soft, pale hand. I attempted to shake it and winced, feeling her freezing cold skin brush against my palm.
"Hello," her husband greeted instead. He held out his broad arm as well, offering his hand. I shook his, hoping it wouldn't be as cold.
My sister trembled, clutching both of her hands. She was excused, still holding her hands. I saw her turn back and walk back, slowly quickening her pace. As she passed a corner, I heard a soft whoosh blow behind her.
As for her husband, who remained standing with his hand out, shook my hand comfortably and seemed to have been biting his lip. He nodded and asked for permission to leave with his wife, then sprinted back as well.
Mom smiled and patted my shoulder again then met with my eyes, telling me I would have to greet the rest of the family next time. I nodded, walking next to her closely.
"That was your big sister Bella and that was her husband Edward." She explained as we crossed past the living room and into the kitchen where the rest of the family was cooking.
I swallowed, my stomach quivering from hunger and nervousness. I didn't dare ask any more questions or worse yet be introduced to them.
All I wondered was if all their hands were as cold as my sister's and her husband.