Author's Note
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to the story or characters; they are all Stephenie Meyer's. I'm just a huge fan who thought I'd try my hand at writing, and this story was one that intrigued me.
"And when one of them meets his other half,
the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy,
and one will not be out of the other's sight ,even for a moment"
-excerpt from Plato's Symposium, 360 BCE
PREFACE
My eyes flickered once again to the clock sitting on the counter. It wouldn't be long now.
The bell above the door tinkled to indicate someone's entry. I didn't turn because I knew it wasn't him. Not yet.
The fans above my head whirred, but were not very effective today. It was too hot, too humid, and the air was heavy and reluctant to move. Condensation, which had formed instantly around the outside of my glass when it had been poured, now formed a puddle on the countertop. I hadn't touched my drink; it was merely a formality so that I wouldn't draw unnecessary attention to myself.
The summer storm that I had seen in my mind's eye would start shortly.
The sound of traffic and city noise surrounded the tiny diner; the thin walls and shiny jukebox against the far wall doing little to muffle the din. Although Philadelphia was now one of the busiest cities in the north-east - in the whole country, really – there were only a handful of people sitting in here at the vinyl booths. A young couple making eyes at each other over frothy milkshakes, oblivious to my presence; a mother and her child who eyed me warily, sensing danger but unsure why that would be; a middle aged businessman with sweat stains on his cheap and well-worn shirt who studied the newspaper intently.
"You sure I can't get you somethin' to eat, darlin'?" the waitress in the unflattering pinafore asked me.
She looked curious, eyeing off my pale, smooth skin and thin frame. Perhaps she thought I was ill.
"No, thank you" I smiled sweetly, "My friend will be here shortly".
"Ok, darlin'. Let me know if you change your mind." The waitress gave me one more curious stare and went back to refilling the little condiments containers.
I wasn't hungry; I never hungered for food. My thirst was the thing that needed to be controlled, but I had drunk my fill recently, anticipating this trip into the city, and knowing that it would be easier for me to tolerate if my thirst was controlled.
The smell of frying bacon and onions hung heavy in the air, mixed with the pungent body odour that was usual at this time of year. Not from myself, of course. My body was frozen in time and did not produce normal human fluids, sweat included. Whilst perspiration beaded on the foreheads of the other diner patrons, my skin remained smooth and dry.
The smell of rain permeated the otherwise offensive smelling air. It was beginning.
Summer storms were delightful. They came on suddenly, without warning, and the rain temporarily washed all manner of toxins from the air, wiping the pavement clean and leaving the city refreshed. Unfortunately the heat of the sun usually didn't allow the effects to last, the humidity building up again relentlessly.
And then the rain hit; hard and loud against the tin roof. It was deafening and dramatic, and I knew it was time.
The bell above the door tinkled as I turned to meet my destiny.