AN – Happy Monday, Guys! Thanks for your comments on the last chapter, I love to hear from you. To the comment that Edward seems a little sexist, you have to understand the time period he's in. This is before women were seen as able to really be anything of consequence. Either way, he gets better, promise. And I am going to be trying very hard to update every Monday, because really, we need something to look forward to. Mondays suck.
Still Stephenie Meyer's characters, I'm just playing around.
Please let me know what you think!
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"Are you alright?" Esme greeted me with a worried expression as soon as she and Carlisle walked through the door of their lovely home. "I got so worried when you ran off like that. What happened?"
I had been sitting on the couch in the living room, staring at the wall, and I looked up at her rather miserably as she spoke. I had just been run out of a party by some frail, human girl-child! Not the best self-esteem booster, that. Esme sunk onto the couch next to me and wrapped one arm around my shoulder, trying to urge me to speak. She looked so worried, as if I really was her son, rather than just playing the part sometimes. When we moved from place to place, we each took a different role either so that people don't make funny connections, or just for a change of pace. This time, I think Carlisle wanted to make me more respectable – an orphan doesn't offer much as a marriage prospect – so I became his wealthy cousin from a respectable family. I think he might have had some ulterior motives, such as finding me a companion of some sort, despite the ludicrousness of it all. But I digress. I sighed heavily.
"There was a…complication," I finally said.
"What kind of complication?" Esme urged, gently. Her thoughts were filled only with concern, not the judgment or disappointment that I feared would soon shade them.
"There was a girl." Esme and Carlisle exchanged confused glances. "And before you start, yes that is a bad thing. Her blood…I've never smelt anything so beautiful and so horrible at the same time before. It made my mouth water. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid." I was staring at the carpet again, waiting for the condemnation.
It didn't come. "Oh, Edward," Esme's soothing voice slid through my distress as she pulled my head to her chest and hugged me tightly. "Edward, I'm proud of you for getting yourself out of there. Don't be ashamed of your limits."
"If someone's blood calls to you, it's near impossible to deny," Carlisle added softly. "It's part of our makeup. And if her blood truly was calling to you, then you must have been very strong to refuse to give into temptation."
They were just trying to make me feel better, I knew it. What I wanted to do was run away from this town until that girl was gone. But I'm not a coward! Who was she to run me out of my home! I couldn't run away, that was admitting defeat. I could hear Esme's fear echoing my own thoughts, praying that I would stay.
But I couldn't stay either - that was a death wish. Literally on her behalf and mentally on mine. I sighed again and withdrew from my surrogate mother's embrace. "I'm not going anywhere. As much as I may want to run, my home is here, with you two." I didn't want to relive the loneliness along with the shame. I had only recently returned from my…rebellion. I had tried the life without the constant denial, but the heavy conscience that accompanied murder after murder was not worth it. Even though I had hunted the scum of the earth, I still hated it. And I didn't want to go back to that feeling. That inevitable feeling of self-loathing natural for a vampire like me.
"What should I do?" I looked over to Carlisle for guidance.
"Well, son, I think you're on the right track. You need to be crystal clear on what your limits are. Don't push yourself beyond what you can do."
That wasn't extremely helpful. I knew that already. "So, what if I run into her again? I mean, this city is not exactly large, and her social circle and ours are bound to cross many a path."
"Well, you spent a little bit of time in her presence tonight, didn't you?" At my nod he continued, "Well, maybe if you conditioned yourself to her scent little by little, you could desensitize yourself. At least enough so that you could appear in good company without any problems."
That might work. I told him so, slightly encouraged. "How should I go about conditioning myself? I don't think I'll be running into her every day, and I know I'll need to be around her for long periods of time after awhile. I don't want to frighten her any more than necessary."
Carlisle's brow furrowed in thought. I could hear his mind racing through different possibilities – escorting her around town, finding odd reasons to call upon her father, and other unimpressive ideas of the same mold.
"I suppose I have to planning to do on my own," I said, slightly dejected. I had to find some way to conquer this.
I retired to my bedroom and stretched out on my bed. I didn't need it for the usual reasons – vampires don't sleep – but I still liked the feel of lying down on a soft comforter. Precious few things in my world were soft.
Sprawled there, I stared at my ceiling. I wished I could sleep and let my subconscious find something for me while I rested. But that was one luxury I had long since lost.
A few days later I still had not found a solution and was rudely reminded of such when I literally collided with the girl on the streets. Well, she collided with me, to be more accurate.
It was a very cloudy day, and I was out running an errand for Carlisle, picking up a delivery of anesthesia that had just arrived at the post office. He didn't quite trust his less-agile associates to handle something so precious and fragile. I had rounded the corner just a block from my destination when she came barreling towards me, bumping into me and nearly crashing to the ground. I grasped her arm and steadied her in one fluid movement without even thinking about it.
"Are you alright?" I hadn't seen her face yet, and the wind was blowing the wrong direction again. Or rather, the right direction, away from me, carrying her impossibly desirable scent with it. She stood there, precariously, trying to get her bearings when the wind shifted and her scent hit me, assaulting my senses.
I dropped her arm as if it had scalded me and went sill as a statue - tense, and not breathing. She looked up at me, startled. "I'm fine, thank you," her voice was shaky. "I'm just horribly lost and very late." She looked frightened suddenly, as if noticing how I wasn't breathing. I labored to breathe in very small amounts of air, to at least give the appearance of normal human breathing. "Are you alright?"
Was she worried about me? "Perfectly fine." I said briskly, careful not to dwell on her luscious scent wafting around me. Her big brown eyes were disconcerting. It was like she could see into my mind, instead of the other way around. She was staring up at me, an odd mix of thankfulness and uncertainty in her eyes, as if she were wondering why I would bother to help her and then act like she was some sort of poison. I couldn't read her face, but her mind should be enlightening.
Although, actually…I listened carefully. Nothing. I could hear nothing from her mind. It was like I was standing in front of thin air, like she didn't even exist. I could hear the threads of minds passing by, wondering what kind of bread they should buy, or where their friend was, or other uninspiring thoughts, but this girl…nothing.
I cocked my head, staring down at her, concentrating. She was clearly here in front of me, why couldn't I hear her?
We stood there for several minutes, just staring at each other. She was actually quite pretty, now that I saw her in the light. Her dark hair was swept elegantly back in a clip, with a few loose strands framing her face. Her skin was startling pale, almost as pale as mine. She had a delicacy about her such that if I had let her fall, she might have shattered into a million pieces.
This was not a helpful train of thought. I was not going to think about how easy it would be to break her…
A dog suddenly yelped nearby, causing both of us to jump. She looked down guiltily. "Sorry. I, um, I really should be going. My father is expecting me."
"Do you need help finding your way back home?" She looked as surprised as I felt when I suggested helping her. Why should I torment myself any longer? But it felt like the natural thing to do. And she had mentioned she was lost…
"Are you sure? I don't want to cause you any trouble."
If she only knew. "No trouble at all," I said carefully, trying to relax my muscles. "I was only running errands, and I want to apologize for my rudeness the other night."
"Oh, thank you!" Her eyes were full of trust as I began leading the way back to the police chief's home – it was a small society I lived in, and everyone knew where everyone lived.
"My name is Edward Cullen, by the way. I realize we haven't been properly introduced." I said conversationally. "Edward Masen by birth, actually, but I've taken Cullen on as I've been living with my cousin."
"Isabella Swan. But, please, call me Bella." She smiled shyly at me.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Bella." I grinned at her. I was getting surprisingly desensitized, and I allowed myself to breathe more normally. She still smelled appallingly delicious, but it was getting a little easier to suppress the urge to lead her astray. And knowing that her father was expecting her gave me no small incentive to get her home quickly. An angry police chief was the last thing my family needed. Not to mention the atrocity of what my monster was contemplating.
I tried to distract myself with small talk and asked her what had brought her to her new place of residence. Maybe knowing her history would clear up some of the mystery of why her mind eluded me.
Her smile grew a little sad. "My mother remarried."
"That doesn't seem to be cause for you to move away."
"Part of me thinks that way, too. But when she left my father, she was a disgraced woman. She got work as a school teacher, but we lived rather poorly. No one would want the daughter of a poor, single, school teacher." I opened my mouth to disagree – I had seen the heads turning her way at the party, but she continued on, "So she remarried. And while I like my new stepfather well enough, it still wasn't the best place for me, socially speaking. At least according to my mother. She wants the best for me, and I realized that Charlie – my father – was well-established here. I thought that if I came here where the prospects are better, it would stop her from worrying about me. Besides," she made a face, "newlyweds aren't much fun to be around."
She suddenly realized what she had just said – talking about the acts of newlyweds in public – and her cheeks pooled with color as the blood rushed to the surface at her embarrassment. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her rosy cheeks, and forced my mind to steer towards thoughts not dominated by her blood, no matter how luscious the color made her appear.
I did laugh lightly at her last comment in spite of myself, as I thought about her story. "Do you want marriage prospects?" I asked.
She looked slightly horrified, "Oh, not at all! Look at my parents and what happened to them. They married for love at a very young age, but it wasn't enough. The love faded and the money ran out. So, my mother left. I don't want that to happen to me."
She was going to be in for a surprise then. I knew several of the local young men were looking for prospective brides, and she was a shiny, new specimen. And she was unusual, that much was glaringly obvious. She wasn't preoccupied with herself, vain, and dim-witted like most of the girls around here. And against my better judgment, she was starting to intrigue me.
"Oh, here we are," she said, surprised that we had reached her home so quickly. Time passes quickly when you're telling your life story, it seems. She turned to me at the gate of her modest home. "Thank you so much for escorting me. I never would have found it without you."
"I'm sure you would have managed," I chuckled. "Have a nice day, Miss Bella." I bid her farewell.
Her eyes widened just a fraction, "Wait, when shall I see you again?"
She wanted to see me again. Oh no, she could not get attached to me. I stiffened and said, "I don't know. And I don't know if that would be a good idea anyway. Good day."
I caught her confused and hurt look just before I turned. It pained me to hurt her, for some reason. But I knew it was for the best, for her not to know me. I'd leave before she would even notice I was gone, the way my family moves so often. But that, too, was an inevitability that I had grown accustomed to. It happens, when you do not age - vampires are forever in the state we were in when we were changed. We can pass for a few years older and younger, but we can never stay in one place for very long. I had learned long ago not to form connections.
But that didn't stop me from wanting them.
So that night, after returning home with the supplies I had originally set out to get for Carlisle, I left the house, bound for Bella's. The fact that I could not read her mind still gnawed at me. And I had been alright this afternoon…so it wouldn't hurt me to see her again. And it would be even better for her, because she wouldn't see me, and I could still get used to her scent.
I reached her home in a matter of minutes (I could travel much more quickly by myself – super-speed is one vampire trait I love). Under the cover of night, I could move freely, and I moved soundlessly without even trying. I crept around to the backside for the house. It was late enough that all the lights were off, so hopefully everyone was asleep. I knew Charlie would be. He was an early riser and went to bed as early as he could. But I didn't know about Bella. It was easy enough to find her room – her window was open and her scent drifted down toward me. I had a firm grip on myself before moving forward. There was a conveniently placed tree just out side her window. I swung myself up and landed lightly on a protruding branch.
I peered in her open window. She was fast asleep, wrapped in her blankets and breathing evenly. Her scent was heavy, drawing me in.
I was inside her room before I realized I was moving, entranced by her smell and her unconscious allure. She mumbled sleepy, incoherent sounds. I shook my head, holding my breath once again, trying to clear my mind. Was this a bad idea? I looked around her room to distract the ever-thirsty monster.
It was covered in boxes, her room. A few were open, spilling contents across the floor. Books were stacked high, with a couple scattered here and there, as if she had gotten distracted mid-unpacking and started to read, only to catch herself a moment later and start working feverishly again, tossing the book away. Her clothes were hanging neatly in her closet. I ran my hands over the smooth fabric. The dresses were modest, of unimpressive material. Not quite the quality I was used to. Living without limit to years or time, one tends to accumulate a large sum of money. Not to mention the amount willed to me by my birth parents.
I drifted cautiously toward Bella's bedside. There was a portrait on her night stand. I picked it up and sat in the wicker chair by the window I had entered through. The portrait was undeniably of Bella and her mother. They looked so much alike it was almost difficult to decipher which was the mother and which was the daughter. Bella's eyes were deep and intense, while her mother's were playful and laughing. Her mother seemed so young. No wonder Bella felt she had to take care of her.
"Edward."
I jumped up at the sound of her voice. Had she woken? Did she see me? Would she call for her father? If my heart still beat, it would have been racing. Instead, I stood as still as a statue, staring at her small form.
She rolled over, sighed, and continued to breathe evenly. She was still asleep.
I started breathing again. She simply talked in her sleep! I set the portrait back where I had found it, making sure it was as exactly as it was before I picked it up. I knelt down to stare at Bella's sleeping face.
She breathed my name again. What was she dreaming about? Me?
Oh, this was no good, no good at all. She couldn't be dreaming about me, she couldn't be wanting me. I looked at her one last time before standing up and climbing out the window. I had to remove myself from her life, completely. I would not appear to her again until it was impossible for her to want me.