A/N: Sorry it's been a few days since the last update. I've been struggling with where I want this story to go, so I've been putting off updating for a bit. Anyway, enjoy this short chapter! I'll have another one posted tomorrow, I promise! ;)
Clara found her way into the forest, needing some time by herself. She quickly whittled herself a makeshift flute and filled the surrounding air with tunes she learned over her years of travel. After those were exhausted, she started making up her own songs, beginning with a playful waltz, then a stately march, which blended into a lyrical ballad. She let the notes linger, each one not wanting to give up its place in the song. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. She would have cried if she could. Her song was one of loneliness and homelessness. She yearned for a place, a home, a family. For vampires this was very strange, she knew, but she couldn't deny her feelings. This yearning started long before her change.
It was March. The air was crisp, but that didn't stop Clara from embarking in her morning chores. She fed the cows and chickens, brushed the horses and cleaned the pens. The work was laborious, but she was the only one who could do them. Grandmother and Grandfather were too old, and she had no male siblings to take the responsibility. But Clara didn't mind. She found the most peace in the company of the animals, and after she was finished, she got to take her long morning walk through the countryside.
Clara was used to being alone. Her parents were both dead, and Johnathan enlisted months ago, long after the war was over, but still affected by the desire to serve. He visited occasionally, but mostly she was left to her thoughts. He was doing good work, though, she thought. Repairing the damage that the war had wrought would take decades, she presumed, maybe more.
She brushed her hand along the tops of wheat stalks as the breeze braided itself in her hair. The early morning was the only time she could let her hair down, and she took full advantage of it. A flock of birds flying in a "V" shape flew over her head, Clara shielding her head with her arms so as not to get bird droppings in her hair. She quickened her pace to a run, laughing with joy as she frolicked away. She was having too much fun to notice the dark clouds rolling in. A crash of thunder alerted her of its presence, her head shooting up from her comfortable position on her back. Her eyes widened, taking in the ominous storm clouds passing over her, and she leapt to her feet, sprinting in the direction of home. She was a runner, but still not fast enough to outrun the storm.
She was drenched from head to toe as she stumbled inside the house, shaking like a leaf in the wind. A loud crash of thunder echoed throughout the house, making her jump. She headed off toward the bath, coughing as she stumbled up the stairs.
"Good lord, child, what on earth has become of you?" her grandmother gasped as she took in her appearance.
Clara coughed a few more times before replying, "Nothing, Grandmother, I was just enjoying the morning air after I fed the chickens," she finished before sneezing.
"Well, it looks as if the enjoyment is long over," she remarked, worry etched on her face, "Have Laura draw you a bath," she waved her on.
"I heard her come in, Ma'am," Laura answered, emerging from Clara's chambers. Clara could hear the bath water running. "Now, dear, let's get you out of them wet clothes," she beckoned Clara to come inside the room, Clara sneezing several more times along the way. "Careful, now, or we might think you came down with the Hay Fever," Laura jokingly said, but glanced behind her at Clara's grandmother with a look of concern before closing the door behind her.
Clara's song was still echoing through the trees when she heard a rustling nearby. Putting down her flute, she gazed curiously at the newcomer, relaxing when she saw it was Edward.
"I heard music," he shrugged, an almost embarrassed look on his face. He sat down on the ground a few feet away from her, his back against a tree.
Clara smiled, and thought, "It was too quiet. The music helps me think sometimes."
Edward nodded, "I am a music lover myself. I play piano," he smirked at the homemade instrument, "but I don't have the tendency to make them myself."
"Oh, this is nothing," she thought, embarrassed, "I'm not a craftsperson by any means."
Edward laughed, "It plays beautifully. You should be proud of yourself," he smiled, meeting her eyes. She felt herself getting lost in those eyes, looking away awkwardly. She battled with her thoughts, catching herself thinking of his handsome appearance and kind demeanor, then shaking herself at her childish antics. He truly was handsome though, and when he smiled, it made her feel… She jumped as she instantly remembered who she was with, a mind reader! If she could blush, her entire face and neck would be a beacon, she thought, wide eyes meeting his amused ones. He chuckled a bit, then shook his head, gazing at her,
"Don't worry, my thoughts have been similar lately. About you," he shyly stated, reaching out a hand to place it lightly on top of hers, then took it away before she could react. Clara's lips parted at the action, looking at the hand he held a second ago, then met his eyes. She felt her lips pull up at the edges, almost feeling, whatever that strange saying was, butterflies in her stomach? Whatever it was, she hadn't felt it in this lifetime at least.
"You play?" she thought, guiding them back to their previous conversation.
"Yes," he confirmed, "My mother from my human life made sure I took lessons as soon as I could; she adored hearing me play," he recalled with a sad smile on his face.
"I'm sorry," she consoled him, sad to have brought up painful memories, but he shook it off.
"Don't be, it's long in the past. The early 20th century, in fact. I was changed when I was 17, in Chicago of 1918. Carlisle, my creator, found me dying of Spanish Influenza and turned me. My family perished from the disease," he recounted for her.
"That's tragic," she thought, "I had Hay Fever, so I understand what dying of illness is like."
"I'm sorry you had to endure that," he apologized.
"Thank you, but like you said, it's ancient history now," she gave him a small smile, "Luckily, I didn't have many people in my human life that cared about me, so it was easy to let it go. I was raised by my grandparents. My mother died of pneumonia a few months after I was born, and my father died in the war. The farm animals were my only company," she chuckled, trying not to think about what Mary told her. She wanted to know if he would tell her about her father outright, but kept her intentions hidden. Meeting his eyes, she couldn't tell if she was successful or not.
After a few minutes, Edward staring at the ground and Clara glancing at him, waiting for him to say something, he finally looked up and asked, "What year were you born?" then snapped his mouth shut.
"1863," she thought, wondering where he was going with this.
Edward nodded, looked deep in thought for a while, then opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again.
Sighing, Clara asked him mentally, "Can I ask you something?"
Edward's lip twitched, "You just did."
"Ha-ha," she sarcastically remarked, watching his smile grow, "Where is your coven, and why aren't you with them?"
"That's two 'somethings'," he pointed out, temporarily leaving her question hanging. When she didn't reply, he sighed, "My coven is in Forks, Washington right now. We like to stay in one place as long as we can, blending in with the humans to the best of our ability. My father, Carlisle, is a doctor, so he works at the hospital, my mother, Esme, does charity work. The rest of us attend high school. When the humans start to notice our lack of aging, we move, rinse and repeat."
Clara was amazed. They lived with humans? Without drinking their blood? And their leader worked in a hospital! It was remarkable and seemed confusing to her. She didn't understand the logic behind it.
"We try to stay in touch with our humanity as much as possible. And, it turns out living with humans is easier than avoiding them, once you get the thirst under control," he answered her unspoken questions. "As for why I'm here… there's a new student at Forks High School and her blood is… extremely tempting to me. I came here to get away, try to regain my composure. I very nearly killed her," he confessed, looking down, "But I can't stay here much longer. It'll look too suspicious. Right now, the lie is that I've caught a stomach bug, but it's been 5 days now. I'll have to go back."
"Oh," Clara stated simply, not knowing what else to "say". The thought of Edward leaving soon was troubling. Whenever he was near, it was like she was at peace. And she didn't need to use her voice to communicate with him; everything was just easier with him. She knew he could hear her thoughts, but she didn't care anymore. The fact that she didn't have to piece them together in an articulate way for him to understand what she was feeling was freeing. Edward put his hand on hers, a look in his eyes she couldn't quite read. Before she could say (or think, for that matter) anything, he was already talking.
"If you'd like, you can come with me. I know you've just met a new coven for the first time and my coven is larger, so I understand if that's too intimidating for you, but there's someone in my coven I'd like you to meet. I have a feeling that you two know each other," he said, carefully.
Clara's eyebrows raised. Thinking carefully, she thought to him, "I wouldn't be a burden to you? We've just met, after all. And I'm not sure about my ability to blend in with the humans…" she trailed off, looking away. Edward turned her face back toward him, using one finger on her chin.
"We wouldn't ask you to go out in public so soon, so don't worry about that. And you certainly would not be a burden to anyone, especially me. Trust me, I'm sure they're all dying to meet you," he grinned, hand still holding hers, which he gave a slight squeeze.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded, smiling widely back at him. Being wanted, cared for, it was all so new, and she loved it. Clara hoped desperately that she wouldn't ruin it.