DISCLAIMER: All characters and story world belong to SM. All lyrical references and quotes are property of their original artist. No copyright infringement intended.

[Beta'd by: TRDancer]
Special thanks to: My ficwife Ocdmess

Song Inspiration: Blue Foundation – Eyes on Fire
Image: http:/ /bit[dot]ly/ab7ic1

Those grey, recondite eyes.

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, but is it the depth, emotion or color that tells what kind of soul? If the color, then my soul was plain – homely, even. It would be as simple as dirt; common and everywhere. If it were the depth, then perhaps I held a shallow and naive soul, for they had no varying shades to draw anyone in or hold a strangers interest.

However, if it were the emotion, then I wouldn't know what to say about my soul, because I rarely felt much of anything – I had little to be passionate about in my life.

But those grey, recondite eyes… no matter the color, depth or emotion behind them, they all said the same thing. Edward Cullen had no soul.

I first noticed his hair, to be completely honest, and then his skin. His eyes didn't factor into the strangeness that was the new student until I looked up in fifth period and saw him standing at the corner of my desk with a focused gaze. His features were startling – not gruesome, grotesque or disfigured, but devastatingly beautiful while incredibly intimidating. He was standing completely still, jaw locked and posture astute not two feet from me, and I was completely entranced.

I couldn't look away.

His hair looked slept on, disheveled and un-groomed with the faintest hint of red amongst a tangled mess of dull brown. His skin shared the same, unsaturated strangeness as the rest of him. I was tempted to look at the floor, half expecting a pile of color to be melting onto the tile.

The only color – besides the tint of his hair – was the pale pink of his lips, and even they held an ashy coolness to their hue. He simply looked as though the color had been drained from every inch of him, and he was left a shell of a person. Even his clothes were muted tones of grey and blue.

"My name is Edward Cullen." He spoke softly, enunciating every word and licking his bottom lip as he pulled it between his teeth after the last syllable.

For a split second, a rush of fear and panic shot through me; a chill ran down my spine as I gripped the edge of my book tightly.

"Bella Swan," I said through trembling lips, inhaling too quickly and gasping. I quickly shut my mouth and flared my nostrils, sucking in as much air as I could and flooding my lungs. My shoulders rose from the expansion, and I held my pose, waiting for the next move.

He slowly walked around the table and took his seat beside me. I was fully aware of exactly how close he truly was because I could feel a slight cold wave emanating from him, causing the hair on my arms to stand up on end and a shiver to run down my spine.

Make up an excuse. Fake you're sick. Go into a coughing fit and leave for water. Get out. Run. Don't look back.

My instincts screamed at me, but I sat frozen, unable to move and hardly capable of breathing. I watched him from the corner of my eye and noted that he never moved a muscle, not even to blink or swallow. When the bell rang at last, I nearly fell off my chair as I rushed to flee the room, my pulse pounding in my ears.

I tried to put the entire experience behind me and went to my next class. As I drove home from school later that afternoon, I theorized different stories that I could use to attempt getting out of the class with the mysterious Edward Cullen. None of them felt strong enough to work, however.

I fixed dinner for my father and lost myself in the duties of doing dishes as the sports scores of the afternoon games filtered through the living room and into the kitchen. My father cursed at the television as his empty can hit the faux wood of the coffee table with a crunch of bending aluminum. I turned off the water and dried my hands before heading upstairs to my bedroom.

My safe haven.

I pulled out my familiar junior year school books and debated internally over which subject to start with. My eyes lingered on one of my favorite books, Pride and Prejudice, and I reached for it, flipping easily to the spot bookmarked due to the broken spine. I had read the book over a dozen times – this particular chapter happened to be my favorite, and luckily it also happened to be the material for the semester.

I glanced at the clock, noted the time and promised myself no more than an hour of reading before I really had to focus on my other studies. I leaned back against the pillows, the night breeze blowing through the window and causing my curtains to flutter slightly in the wind.

As I read, Mr. Darcy became the inscrutable Edward Cullen, his features and mannerisms catering to the little knowledge I had of the new student. I pictured Edward Cullen telling me the guises and misfortunes of my family were great indeed, but professing his love for me nevertheless.

A sudden noise outside my window pulled me from my reverie, and I sat rigid in my bed, eyes glued to the open frame. After a solid minute of staring, I looked back at my book and tried to find my place.

A shiver ran down my spine and the hair on my arms stood on end. I looked back up and gasped as the lanky and dim figure hovered in front of my open window.

"Hello, Isabella Swan. I'm so sorry," he said with a cold, distant, but sorrow laced voice seconds before he lunged.

My body felt as though I had gone up in flames as an intense pressure built at my neck. I gasped for air but inhaled the scent of dew and honey instead. The last thing I saw before I died was those cold, recondite grey eyes turning a deep crimson red.

"I'll seek you out, flay you alive.
One more word and you won't survive.
And I'm not scared of your stolen power.
I see right through you any hour.

I won't soothe your pain.
I won't ease your strain.
You'll be waiting in vain.
I got nothing for you to gain.

I'm taking it slow, feeding my flame.
Shuffling the cards of your game.
And just in time, in the right place,
Suddenly I will play my ace.

I won't soothe your pain.
I won't ease your strain.
You'll be waiting in vain.
I got nothing for you to gain.

Eyes on fire - your spine is ablaze.
Feeling any foe with my gaze.
And just in time, in the right place,
steadily emerging with grace."
~Blue Foundation – "Eyes on Fire"

A/N: So, this song is actually my alarm clock - I love it that much. I'm addicted to it. I always felt it fit the 'hunter' side of Edward... and then came the 'what if?' that happens when inspiration for a story comes forward in my brain. I tweaked 'canon' a bit to make it a bit more interesting (grey eyes when they are thirsty, losing all color from their bodies due to lack of blood). This is also a much different style for me than what I write my 'chapter fics' in. This is more my natural, free flowing style. Like it, hate it; take it or leave it.

Another one has already been written and beta'd... I'll post it in a day or so.

Have a song to suggest? I write angst, drama, and romance so leave a review, PM me, or follow me on Twitter: Ailisraevyn and send me your suggestion. I can't promise I'll do it, but I'm always looking for new inspiration.

I'd love to hear your thoughts.