A/N:
mmmm….I was not thoroughly happy with the last chapter, but I needed to find some way to give Rosalie the assurance that Emmett liked her more. (note I'm not a fan of the "L" word so I use it rarely)
As for this chapter, it was the first time I really didn't know where the story was going to go. Furthermore it is a result of one of my middle of the night, 'I'm going to write' phases; so if it really is horrible, I apologize in advance.
Rosalie was sitting on a tree branch dangling her legs over the frozen pond, staring off into nothingness. Meanwhile Emmett closed his eyes letting his senses reveal the closest creature and could quench his thirst. As his muscles coiled at the sweet scent of a deer, his line of rational thought held him back.
Emmett grunted as he was torn between giving into his instincts and hunting or resisting his thirst because murder was wrong. Today would be the first time he drank blood since Anna's. Even though Anna's human blood sustained his need for blood much longer than animal blood had, his lust for blood burned in his throat more than ever before. And although it was needed for his survival, and he had resisted for a little over a month, and therefore his eyes had faded from ruby red to a deep black. Bending over and placing his elbows on his crouched knees, Emmett buried his head in his hands distressed.
In two milliseconds Rosalie was by his side placing her hand that still held her ring upon his hunched back. She studied the strained muscles in his neck for a moment, before she sighed as well.
"Emmett," her musical voice rang in a concerned tone. "You cannot punish yourself anymore. Don't push yourself to resist, you could hurt somebody."
Emmett straightened to a standing position and turned to meet Rosalie's gaze. He stroked her long blonde hair slowly with his hand, before nodding in a sign to concede to his instincts once more.
Edward was lying on his back in the middle of the meadow just outside of Forks, Washington. He'd journeyed back to his former residence silently in the night, just to come to this perfectly round meadow. The serene perfection of the tree's in their budding nature of the spring, with the grass peaking through the melting piles of snow, simply relaxed him. There was no need for Edward to worry about the events that played out over a month ago; no need to dwell on the past. The guilt had slowly subsided, as he'd become nomadic.
Sitting down on the slightly wet ground he recollected how his coven had agreed to be nomadic for the better part of the next year, to throw off any suspicions of his family. A year wasn't that long, considering he had eternity to live. Edward slightly wondered what he could do to wait out the year. Certainly he could just sit still and wait, but the idea didn't appeal to him.
The world of academia awaited Edward once more. The idea of attending school again, studying something new could fulfill his year. Therefore Edward stood, and began to run.
Esme stood balancing on one foot on the limb of a small spruce tree, her prey just feet beneath her graceful body. With a short inhale of the deer's sweet scent, and pounced to the ground below, baring her sharp razor teeth, and killing the animal with a swift graze of her pearly white weapons upon the tan fur of her prey.
As she feasted, Carlisle walked in somber silence upon a tree branch four stories above the ground. He didn't have to concentrate to balance, but he thought greatly about where he placed each foot in front of the other upon the slightly slippery bark, feeling the particles barely move underneath his practically weightless pressure.
When Esme threw the drained deer to the side, Carlisle walked off the branch and ever so lightly landed on the forest floor next to her mate.
"I had an idea, in order to stay inconspicuous for the next decade or so," Carlisle began. Esme walked over to a fallen log and sat down, leaning back upon her hands she stared at him intently. "London, where I was born. It would be a nice fact finding adventure. I could go to medical school once more. You could enjoy the beautiful scenery. And Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward could join us in a year or so, starting in high school and finishing out into college.
"The weather is perfect of course, and we could spend the next decade or so there. At least in to the early sixties without having to answer too many questions."
Esme considered this thought for only a second before she suggested a different plan. "Carlisle, I think you should stay here in Canada and study medicine for a few years, then we can go to London, and start with Emmett, Rosalie, and Edward.
"It's only that we cannot pull off fifteen years in one place, but if we try to get seven or eight out here, then we can go. I think we need to wait before we move to such a high profile city after we just had three of us die," Esme explained as she gauged her mate's expression for a moment.
In two strides Carlisle met up with her, pulling her from her sitting position to standing upright.
"You're right. Your beautiful face is far too recognizable to be in a tourist destination," he said holding her face in his hands. "And- what's even better- is that we won't have to deal with Emmett or Rosalie for a while."
Esme smirked and replied, "Exactly."
Emmett and Rosalie had toured the world for the better part of three years, checking in with Carlisle and Esme ever so often. Esme came and built them a house on a small uninhabited island off the coast of Chile, and they had lived there for a while until at the post office on the mainland one day, there was two letters in their usually empty mailbox, each addressed with two different, but equally elegant calligraphy on the outside of the cream colored envelopes.
A/N:
I promise the next chapter has something delicious, but this one had to be a bridge in between two thought processes.
On a completely unrelated note, if you are interested in writing:
I was in a book store today, in a corner that no one ever looks for books in, and I saw this book called The 3am Epiphany. (I believe that's what it's called; I apologize if it's wrong). Anyways it's about how you get strokes of genius writing in the middle of the night. I figured it explains my insomnia, because I'm always writing in the middle of the night…and then in the morning I try to make it coherent.
Anyways, I bought it and it's a pretty good read for those who like to compose various prose such as myself. I recommend it. : ]