Heyyyyyss!
Okay, thank you all SO much for the reviews guys. I really appreciate ANY feedback :) You make my days with reviews, you truly do and THANKS for reading this far! (How on earth do you put up with me?! It'll remain a mystery I'm sure :p)
*puts on an extremely serious face* I've decided that my babbling issue has in fact, got rather serious. Too much so in fact. And so, I shall refrain from babbling too much in this chapter. (don't doubt me yet… I WILL decrease it…)You heard me. I won't babble. I can hear the sighs of relief already…
I know. A shock eh? Maybe I'm ill…
Now this chapter was very hard to write… (I do think that's partly due to the fact that Mouse was sitting on my arms whilst I typed, that was annoying to say the least, and I now have an aching arm.. But what can I say? Seriously, my cats have this scary look that just makes me forgive them… creepy huh?) But yup, besides that very valid reason, I just don't like this chapter… not sure why… but hey. Tell me in the review if you liked it… Hated it… didn't even read it…want to kill me… you know, the usual :p
So yeah. I typed it all up last night. Extra fast, because of the REVIEWS! Thanks a lot. They're the only thing that makes me write.
Arrggghhs. I WOULD have updated faster, but I didn't. Curious as to why? Well, Mouse just caught a mouse (no, wait, I think it was a shrew actually) and has been chasing the rodent around in circles for ages around my room. I have spent the last HOUR trying to save that silly shrew's life. And it's rewarded me by cowering pathetically behind MY bookcase. *huff* So yup. There's my grand excuse for this chapter's lateness. A SHREW! (who is currently hiding. Stupid silly. Small mammal with pointed nose: a small nocturnal animal that resembles a mouse but is an insectivore, with velvety fur, a long pointed snout, and small eyes and ears. Native to: found worldwide, except New Guinea, Australia, and New Zealand. Yeah. Well this isn't New Zealand. It's my room. And there is an ungrateful shrew in it.)
Right. So I've moved on. No more talking about doors.
Now I'm muttering about shrews… this just gets better and better…
Okay. I tried to not babble. I REALLY DID…
I'm sorry you had to endure my rant about the shrew *glowers at bookcase* I'll let you read the chapter now…
What Happened Last Chapter:
"Your dream Lucie," I wished he hadn't said that. Suddenly I found myself fighting the elusive memory desperate to impair my vision again. The darkness that threatened to pull me under. Her voice…
Run.
"Yes?" My voice was barely audible, but he heard it. He lent closer still, are foreheads almost touching, I could practically feel the heat from my skin react against the miracle cool breath.
"Who was that woman? The one in the forest?"
I couldn't help it. I stared into his eyes, willing the intensity to give me strength. But when I replied, my voice was devoid of anything but that. I said the truth to him, wishing I could lie.
"My mother."
***
The Darkness Consumes.
I didn't know what to expect as I sat there, staring up at him, after just admitting the recognition I feared in my dreams. He took a long time to respond. I stopped myself, and I didn't look at him when waiting, because I felt the familiar stinging sensation behind my eyelids. I bit down on my full lower lip then, trying to prevent the tears that desperately want to course down my face. It was silly. I shouldn't want to cry every time I think of her, my mother. She was the one after all, who told me it was good to cry, warned me against bottling my emotions up. And I've not listened to her advice, just done the opposite. My emotions were like a coiled spring inside me, but I was too afraid to let them out. Too scared by the consequences that'll arise because of them.
And again her face, so beautiful - more so then mine I think, yet I knew she would disagree, thinking I was an angel - loomed before my eyes. I shut them tightly, as if in doing so her face would fade. But also because I don't want to cry. I don't want to feel weak. I couldn't feel weak now. I couldn't…
But then I felt it. Cool fingers were touching my face, and my breath left my lips in a small gust at the shock, at the precise moment I opened my eyes. Half expecting to see her kind face, the one I've been missing so much for two years.
I knew how close he was to me. Our foreheads almost touching. His breath still caressing my cheeks. They for once, were not flaring with red, drained from blood, they just felt cold. Cold and numb.
But the face that formed was not her. No, his was (despite my mother's beauty) far more entrancing. Captivating. I couldn't look away from him, his fingers still touching my skin, as if trying to undo the emotions I couldn't reveal. I shut my eyes again, unwilling to look into his. This wasn't helping. I could feel a spark inside me, and I mentally snatched it. Annoyance. Irritation towards him; for making me feel this way; for being so intoxicating…
If only I could hate him for doing this to me.
If only…
And the moment his voice reached me. Even though I knew he'd said the same thing twice, though I hadn't heard, I felt my resolve waver. It was only my determination that kept it from shattering. That kept me from succumbing to looking into his golden eyes (I know they're the colour of distant sunlight.)And revealing all that cannot ever be revealed.
"Lucie…" Edward whispered. I could feel him looking at me. But I didn't open my eyes. If his voice had this much effect on me, then the sight of him was too dangerous to even imagine.
So why can't he leave my head?!
I concentrated on her again, my mother, and almost as instantly wished I hadn't. The tears threatened to escape. I knew I wouldn't hold out much longer.
"Lucie. Look at me." He commanded.
And I did.
I opened my eyes wide, refusing to cry. Staring into his face. For a moment I just wanted to do that. Stare. And forget about her. Forget everything.
But it didn't work. He spoke again, and I could hear concern, thick, in his words.
"Why didn't you say something earlier? How many times has she come into your dreams? What happened Lucie? What-" But he stopped. I hated this. His questions. I wanted to run from the room then, I wanted to go home.
I wanted my mother.
"Edward," My voice was quiet, pleading, but other than that, it lacked any emotion. "please, I want to go home."
He didn't say anything, seemingly understanding. Instead, I felt his cool arms around me, lifting me.
And reality hit me.
As then I realised what he was trying to do.
"What?! You're not carrying me. Put. Me. Down." My voice was angry now. But I wasn't going to give up. He swivelled me lithely round so I could see the smirk playing on his lips, amused by my anger. I scowled. I knew he was distracting me. And it was working, I hated to admit it. But I needed this, a distraction. Anything, even his arrogance (which was by the way, saying a lot) was better than thinking about her.
"No. You're sleepy." He said it like a statement, and his voice was soothing despite the smirk in it, relaxing like the waves, his eyes seemed bigger and I felt mine flicker with temptation…
Oh crud. No. The whole hypnotising thing-with-his-voice-and-eyes was not going to work on me. Not now. Not ever.
"I am not sleepy." He grinned arrogantly and if he wasn't a vampire I would have punched him. But the simple fact was that he was a vampire. And so punching him would only result in an injured hand for myself. A smirk from him, then sympathy from everyone. Attention. And probably a jolly old trip to Doctor Cullen, in which my swollen hand would be coated in plaster, and everyone would buy sharpies to sign it.
Right. That officially proves it. I think too much.
"Put me down." He didn't budge and I glared at him. "Now."
"You sure you'll be able to cope…" He asked, heavily accenting mock concern.
"I'm sure." I said through clenched teeth. I suddenly had the most peculiar vision of myself looking akin to the likes of a dragon. Green eyes blazing, nostrils flaring… I only needed the fire breath and scales.
He grinned, and swiftly he placed me on my feet. Too swiftly, I felt my self sway with dizziness and I realised this was exactly what he'd intended.
"Nope. That does it Lucie. I deem you unfit to walk. I must carry you."
I jabbed a finger hard against his stone chest.
"Don't. You. Dare." And I turned, stomping towards the door and then flinging it open. I have to say, it was an impressive exit, probably the best I'd ever done in my life. I smiled smugly.
And then the door slammed against me.
Typical.
***
My head still hurt as I got into his car. Normally I never complain about getting injured. Like I said, I don't like attention. But I couldn't help grumbling all the while Edward led me to his stupid Volvo, the satisfied stupid smirk never leaving his stupid perfect face. Yes. Stupid is a word I'm going to use to describe him more often. I mean, he could have stopped that! What was the point in having super speed as one of your vampire powers if you didn't use it?
"You sure your head's okay?" Edward asked, as I was glaring out the window. His was voice concerned again, this time there was no smirk in it. Like that improved my mood.
"I've got a bruise." I pointed out, seeing my reflection. I had indeed got a bruise, albeit small, on my forehead, a faint purplish colour against my pale face, matching the colour under my eyes. Though I hadn't got them from walking into a door…
Wait. I didn't walk into it. The door flew at me!
"I'm sorry." I heard Edward say quietly.
"You shouldn't be; it wasn't you who assaulted me," Wait. Why am I defending him? It was his fault! I hastily add to it. "No, forget I said that. You should be sorry." But when I looked at him he was just grinning, one perfect stupid eyebrow (note the emphasis on: stupid) arched.
"The door assaulted you?" He said in disbelief, attempting to smother his laughter. And failing
I said that? Ugh. Blood flushed my cheeks, but I could see the front of my drive and house.
I practically flung my door open as I stalked into the darkness, concealing the redness of my cheeks. He didn't follow. I doubt my father would have been chuffed to see me with a boy at this time of night. Come to think of it, I didn't know the time. But the sky above me was a mass of black, flecked with stars. How late was it?
I'd barely opened the door before I was knocked breathless.
"Lucie? Oh Jesus, you're safe. Thank God." I felt him wrap his arms around me. His embrace almost suffocating. But I wasn't comforted by his words. They were scaring me too much. He sounded so distraught.
I saw something then, opposite me was his easel, a painting was on there. I recognised his work instantly; my father was a brilliant artist. But what he'd drawn scared me beyond anything so far. It was a landscape, engulfed in darkness.
And it was horribly familiar.
The very same lattice of trees, the moss on the rocks, the swaying grass seemingly moving despite the fact that it was only a painting. The silver moon above it, casting a ribbon of eerie moonlight; the blood red sky; the dark figures in the background, indistinguishable from the night itself. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
The meadow.
"D-dad?" I asked, my voice trembled. He took me gently by my hand into the sitting room and sat on the sofa, gesturing for me to join him. I did, crawling into his lap like I used to do when I was six. "What- why did you sound so worried?" I couldn't think about his picture. My head felt dizzy, and I could feel the darkness pulling. Tempting me to succumb to it. Experience the oblivion. Forget.
I don't, won't, give up. Staring at my father instead. Forcing myself to remain conscious.
He laughed. But the sound was cracked. It didn't fool me.
"Lucie sweetie, it's later than 11.00, way past curfew! You had your old man worried sick. Anyone would be worried with such a pretty girl like you out that late."
This wasn't my father. He'd never enforced a curfew on me, (though he'd never needed to. I rarely left the confinement of our house.) Neither had he ever called me pretty. Sure, he'd said I was an angel, beautiful even, but pretty? That wasn't him. I knew how much I was to him, after my mother had died; I was all he had left. Guilt suddenly gripped me and I felt sick with it.
"No dad," I whispered quietly, "you've never looked so worried before." It was true. I looked at him properly. If I had thought my sleep had been deprived, I was wrong. He had dark bruises under his skin, unnaturally pale. I'd inherited my fair skin from my mother, my father had never been this pale, almost translucent. He was underweight too, his arms felt brittle around me.
But it was his eyes that scared me most. He looked back at me with fear encrusted in their brown depth.
"Dad," It came out as a choke, "please, tell me. I hate this. What's wrong, why are you so scared. I can't stand it dad! Please, you have to say what's wrong…" He shook his head, closing his eyes, drawing away from me suddenly. I gripped his shirt, and I felt like I was seven again. Confused and scared by the sound of thunder, and begging him to stay by me as I slept. I blinked back tears again, my voice sounded more broken than ever as I whispered fiercely to him. "You have to tell me daddy." It was as if the sound of my childish name for him abruptly struck a cord. Suddenly he was holding me tightly again, stroking my hair and cradling me.
"I'm so sorry Lucie, I should have told you earlier. I don't believe it's happening… your mother deliberately insisted that I should keep you safe. I've failed her; you're in danger. We never should have left England, coming here, it was a mistake. I'm so sorry, if only we'd left when we had the chance… I promised her. I'd protect you. And it's happening… I-I should have-" But he cut himself off, looking at me with horror, as if only just realising he'd been talking. My voice shook with something close to hysteria.
"What's happening? What about mother? I'm in danger? Why? What's wrong? Do you know something?" I could barely choke out my questions; I repeated the one that scared me most. The one that kept arising the fear to his eyes. "What's happening?"
"An apocalypse." He whispered.
"What?" I couldn't control my voice from shaking any longer. It didn't stop just at my voice though, my whole body was shaking, terrified, half at what my father was saying, and half at the effect it was clearly having on him. He looked at me then, and suddenly it seemed to dawn on him what he'd said. His hands shook. And he stared at me, his brown eyes large and wide as if awaking from a chance.
"Jeez, I'm sorry Honey. I'm scaring you aren't I?" He laughed shakily, embracing me again.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I was grateful. Because this was my father, loving and caring. Cut up from the past, but still fighting. His eyes were still fearful but the desolation had left them somewhat. My questions for him all died in my throat. I couldn't see him like that again. And I knew my questions would do that to him. For now, I was content. His arms wrapped around me, murmuring soft things into my hair, despite the fact that I was no longer listening.
"I love you daddy." I whispered into his chest.
"So do I honey, so do I." He smiled at me, but the emotion was too raw, too desperate. Like he thought he wouldn't have enough time to prove it. I shook away the thought. My father was safe. I however, well, that was another matter entirely; but I wouldn't inform him of that. I caught something he was whispering against my hair again. "…so damn much."
I couldn't take it though. My head was suddenly blinded by pictures of my mother, and I had a terrible desire to tell him about her; confide the dreams I've been having with him; tell him about the Cullens; question him further.
But I couldn't do that.
I stood up, breaking our contact, half stumbling to the stairs. I had so many things I wanted to say to him at that moment. That I loved him; would always do so; that he meant the world to me; that I owed him so much.
But I could only say one thing before I rushed to my room, choking it out before the tears broke free.
"Goodnight dad."
And then I ran.
***
I could barely breathe when I reached my room. Collapsed onto the bed and drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms firmly around myself, still fighting the sensation of unconsciousness. Willing myself to fix this, to make sense of it all. A dry sob shook me. But no tears escaped. I held onto that fact. That I wasn't crying. It made me feel less pathetic.
I felt feverish, the numb sensation was still dominant, but it was as if I was on fire at the same time, merely oblivious to it. I probably had a temperature, it made no difference. Not when I could still see the look in his eyes, his words that scared me so much.
An apocalypse. The way he'd said those words was like he was in a trance, reciting rather than actually telling me what was going to happen. The words sounded forced, like ones learned for a play.
But this was no play. No, this was reality, hard and truthful.
And I felt sick with it.
Of course, I'd completely forgotten about Edward, which was why the immediate second he took my burning hand in his, I screamed. Flailing backwards and nearly falling off the bed. I thought for a moment that my father would come in, find out why I sounded so distressed. But I knew he wouldn't, not now. Edward just stood silently, watching my every expression. I didn't like him doing that. I knew I would give too much away.
"Lucie, your father-" But I cut him off. Deciding what I wanted to do. My head ached with so much information, with lack of sleep, and with horrible dreams. I couldn't take any more of this. I didn't want to remember. But the oblivion calling, the very one I knew that would engulf me in darkness, I didn't want that either. I just wanted a distraction…
And then I snapped my head up, realising the answer was right before my eyes.
When I spoke, my purpose wasn't as apparent in my voice as how it felt. Determination. It was like a tiny spark inside me that I would cherish. That and irritation. The two things that kept me sane. My voice was breathless when I spoke. Edward continued to look at me with concern.
"Please, just help me forget… I can't… I don't want to remember…" I didn't know what else to say. The sentence seemed to make less sense when I said it out loud. In my head it sounded fine. Edward continued to look at me and sighed.
"I would have done that anyway," He mused quietly, "there wasn't really a need to ask."
I frowned at this, but otherwise ignored it. Slowly, I sat in the centre of my bed; Edward leant against the wall, not looking at me, but out of the window. I kept my arms firmly secured around my knees. Edward cut the silence first, turning to face me. I quickly averted my eyes. Had I been staring at him?
His eyes suddenly raked over my figure then. I felt like I was being x-rayed.
"You should probably change." He muttered. And well, was there even any point on commenting what colour I was turning?
"Right."
I grabbed my cotton pyjamas hanging on off the side of my bed and went into the bathroom. For some reason, firmly locking the door behind me. I saw myself after I'd changed. The bruise stood out, a mauve colour against my white face - but my damp hair, just a dim gold against my blushing cheeks - covered it partially. My eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald green, annoyance practically radiated from them. I hated that. Why did my eyes have to give so much away? I didn't know what to make of my appearance, now swathed in cotton.
The pyjamas were a light cream, nearly exactly the same colour as my skin. They were old, I'd had them since I was fifteen, though admittedly I hadn't grown much since then, they were rather small. My hair was tangled from the rain, and my green eyes shone back at me, contrasting shockingly against my small face. I didn't have any freckles, despite the fairness of my skin and hair. Yet another oddity. Blonde hair with hazel eyes, pale skin with no freckles, skinny legs and arms. I was just odd all over.
Not pretty at all. I thought bitterly
That thought shocked me. What did it matter if I was pretty? I'd never cared for my appearance, worried about it. Let alone felt cross at it.
I furrowed my expression as I began to brush my teeth. I felt self conscious as I walked warily back to my bed, feeling Edward's gaze linger over me. But I stopped before I reached it, deciding against sitting down.
"How old are you?" He asked suddenly, from behind me, I frowned. Didn't he know?
"Err, Edward, we are in the same year…" I pointed out, turning to face him, but he didn't waver. "I'm seventeen." Just like you… but I didn't say the last part out loud. He wasn't seventeen, just eternally appeared so. Forever stuck in time, never changing, always the same. Seventeen forever. Was that something I wanted? To be immortal? To be agile graceful, for once not weak? I stopped my thoughts there though. There was no point fantasising about something like that. I would never become like him. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as I, a shadow seemed to fall in front of his eyes.
"So young…" He whispered.
"I'm not that young," I argued, heat for some reason rising into my cheeks.
I struggled to find my voice. "I've experienced more than a lifetime's worth of memories because of my gift. I don't think I've missed much." What made me say that? Edward seemed to agree with my thoughts, he frowned, his mouth now a hard line.
"You don't want to be a monster." He whispered, but his voice sounded more broken then hard.
"Who said anyone was a monster?" I asked, afraid to say anymore.
"I am Lucie," His eyes darkened as he said it. "I'm a vampire," He spat out the word like poison. And my breath caught silently in my throat. "Your heart? Do you realise how tempting it is? How each beat makes me want to succumb to the thirst?" He was still opposite from me in the room, back placed against my wall. But he wasn't leaning anymore. I could see the tendons standing out in his coiled fists. But I could also see the lines of his abs, prominent from his till wet shirt. Again, I looked away. Why on earth did that always seem to stop me thinking?
I should have been scared by the words. I should be screaming. Rational emotions and actions. But I couldn't. He wasn't looking at me, staring down at his hands, disgusted, as if imagining blood on them. "I've killed before Lucie. I've drank human blood without a second thought. How is that not a monster?"
"It's how you survive." I whispered simply. My voice didn't tremble; it was the truth. I stepped closer to him. "And you don't choose that way. You drink animal blood Edward. I eat meat; I could have cooked lamb tonight." Could have… if you hadn't had that conversation with your father, seen the fear in his eyes and subconsciously known that he's hiding something. My thoughts were back, I opened my eyes wider as the urge to cry came again. But I fought that. Crying in front of Edward would not resolve anything. Crying never resolved anything. Just made you feel weak. I continued, but my voice was quiet. "Does that suddenly mean I'm a monster too?"
He laughed then, but the sound was chilling, devoid of any humour.
"Would you kill that lamb? Stop its life?" He whispered quietly, and I couldn't answer. "No. Thought not."
I looked at him them. I didn't like this.
So much for a great distraction.
He sighed, and then, in a movement too quick for my eyes to follow, he was next to me, before I could stop him. Gently, he pushed me back onto the bed and placed a hand on my wrist, where he could feel my erratic pulse. His touch just made it speed up. My breathing was sharp when his ice cold fingers moved from my wrist to my numb cheeks. His fingers twitched slightly at the heat, so different from the miracle cool of his own skin. Instead however, of the cold soothing my fever hot skin, it did the opposite. Fire erupted where our skin made contact, my breathing hiked. I tried to avoid looking into his eyes, but he angled my face so that couldn't look away. And if I was honest to myself; I didn't want to.
"I can feel your heartbeat." He whispered earnestly. Yeah. Well it was pretty hard not to at the moment. The sound deafened my ears. But when he continued his tone changed into bitterness "You'll never be a monster."
He furrowed his eyebrows together again, muttering to himself, though I couldn't make out the words, and then he went back to the casual look again. Stepping away from me. And leaving me breathless.
Why? Why when I was beginning to like him and not think of him as arrogant did he have to draw away like that?
Because you don't like him, do you. Silly girl. You're meant to hate him. You do hate him.
It would be better to pretend that was the truth.
And so I did.
I glared at him, and his expression suddenly flickered from its angry mask he had before, seeping back into concern. I hated concern. My anger flared and I threw it at him with all the strength I had.
"You are not helping Edward."
"I know," He sighed, but I saw him step closer. Did he always do that? A strange dance in which he'd pace back and forwards again. He had done it rather a lot this evening. "I'm sorry."
I'm sorry? What? Was that how he planned to raise my mood? I'm sorry?
I glowered at him. Standing up abruptly. I hated sitting down when others were standing. It seemed hate was a dominating force at the moment. I wished I could solely fire it at him. He moved closer to me again, I parried the movement. Stepping back. But his strides were larger. Eventually though, I think he understood I was trying to get away from him.
He chuckled, this time genuinely. I raised my eyebrows. This was a big mood change. One minute he was all: run Lucie, I'm a scary vampire you don't want to be a monster. And now he was chuckling. So great. We were back to mood-swing-Eddie were we?
I can honestly say it irritated me.
"Bipolar much?" I muttered under my breath. But I knew he could hear it. He grinned suddenly, flashing a set of dazzling white teeth at me. Watching my expression all the while. It seemed an odd thing to do, smile at me like that, and then watching my expression. But pretty soon it clicked.
Right. So that's how he planned on distracting me was it? Dazzling me? No. That wasn't going to work. I glared at him again, suddenly very aware how close he'd moved. My heart began to race erratically. Great. Like that sounded normal. Honestly, I tried to be angry at him, and my stupid heart rate would work against me.
"Move Edward. I don't like you so close." I said crossly. Lie. He seemed to be able to tell, arching an eyebrow again.
"Really, your heart rate's heavily contradicting you."
I glared at him again. Arrogance. Arrogance and good looks. Definitely not a good combination.
But then I had a brainwave and so I looked down to the floor a small smile tugging the corners of my lips. If I didn't look at him, well, then his dazzling techniques would be pretty pathetic.
"Can't stand the sight of me?" he finally murmured. Crud. Was I that obvious I was trying not to look at him? He was about to undo my plan, I knew it.
"Hideous. It burns." I muttered sarcastically, I could feel him grinning, (since when can people feel grins?) but I still refused to give up. I stared at a crack in my wooden floor, wondering suddenly how it had it had come to be. I was sure I'd never seen it before. It was a large crack, running down a full length of wood. The sort you would find if great pressure had been exerted onto it.
Fear gripped me then. The familiar crawling sensation under my skin appeared. But I brushed it off. It was more likely to be an elephant than anything else.
I scowled again for no reason. Why on earth, when I ever tried to not think about the stupid perfect Edward (or in this case, a cracked floorboard), would elephants pop into my mind?! Of all creatures-
"What are you thinking?" Edward said quietly.
No. No, no, there was no way I was going to tell him I'd been thinking about elephants again.
"You." I lied. And then blushed straight after. I'd been trying not to think of him. Ugh. So much for my grand plan. Stupid Edward. Stupid elephants.
Suddenly though, reality reformed, I could see Edward in front of me (and grudgingly I realised I'd looked at him) but my mind was preoccupied by how close he was now, to dwell on the matter. That thought had my pulse rise again, and then I was transfixed, unable to break eye contact. He was staring at my expression, trying to decipher my thoughts from it, unable to procure them from my mind.
"You truly are," He breathed quietly against me, his breath fanning across my face, which was suddenly engulfed in that terrible, intoxicating aroma. The skin there now felt like it was burning. I'd forgotten he'd said anything. My eyelids fluttered. I couldn't think, his voice sounded as though it was husky.
I felt like I was underwater then, all sound had ceased, and his words seemed distant in comparison to the thudding of my heart. The loudest thing in the room. Eventually his voice reached me; he only seemed to have whispered the words. "one mystery, after another." He drew back, and then there was suddenly a distance of two meters between us. I scowled, more at myself than him.
He sighed suddenly. I felt like doing so myself.
"Go to sleep Lucie." Ugh. Sorry, but commands? We're back to commands again? I crossed my arms over my chest suddenly. Glaring at him and resisting the urge to huff crossly. I decided against it, along with the urge to stamp my foot. That wasn't going to make me look any more mature.
I wanted to reply angrily, prove my anger was the winning emotion. But my voice lacked anything but that.
"I don't want to sleep." The truth left my lips in a whisper.
"Why?"
I stared at him, for some reason, afraid to admit the truth. You've already given too much away. My mind mocked me. Now you're vulnerable. But I ignored it then. So what if I was vulnerable? I'd been so all my life, that didn't drastically change anything back then. And it wouldn't do now. My legs, as if on cue, felt weak beneath me, unable to support my weight.
Edward was still staring at me, leaning against the wall on the other side of my room. A casual stance, proving his patience. But his eyes gave him away; their depth proved he was far from patient. He really wanted to know. Great.
I nearly blushed then, and tried to control it. With no such effect. Who can control a blush anyway? I had more than one reason for not wanting to sleep of course, his presence being a dominant one; it wasn't exactly making me feel very sleepy. On the contrary, I'd never felt so alert.
"Because when I sleep; I dream."
Wow! There's logic for you…
But instead of laughing at this, instead of smirking and brushing away the statement. Edward let out a gust of breath I knew he'd been holding.
"Okay." And silence fell; I went back to my bed and sat on it.
"Tell me about you Lucie,"
"What?" I asked, the sentence seemed to have blurted from his lips. He exhaled, and I knew he was thinking along the same lines.
"What happened in your past?"
I looked at him and sighed.
If only I knew…
***
The silence that had fallen was tolerable. I didn't mind silence; in fact I loved it, revelled in the amity. But tranquillity was a rare thing in my life, despite my normal solitude… Because the only silence I experienced nowadays was forever tarnished with fear. This silence was no exception.
I didn't like this silence. It was the opposite of tranquil. It was suffocating. I looked into Edward's eyes then. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care whether they stopped my thoughts, and whether my sentences became incoherent. I wanted that.
"Luciana…" Edward murmured, I wanted to protest. I hated the name Luciana. Trust me to get christened with it. But I didn't feel like protesting anymore. I felt like a child. Afraid and scared of the darkness that constantly seemed to consume my life. I vaguely remembered Edward holding me, in an act to stop me swaying. But he wasn't anymore. I was sitting cross legged on my bed, a blanket at my ankles, Edward looking at me. And that was all I was aware of.
"What's your favourite colour?" The question caught me off guard.
"What?"
"I think you heard me."
"I know," I muttered quietly. Confusion seeping into me again, settling along side the numbness. "but why do you want to know?"
He looked at me through his long lashes, and in the pale moonlight I could see how angular his cheek bones were, the line of his jaw, and the texture of his pale and ethereally incandescent skin.
"Because," He murmured softly, "Like I said: you're a mystery. And I think it's high time I figured you out." This shocked me. I hadn't expected that. He was trying to distract me, and I was perfectly willing for that. But I couldn't help but wonder whether he'd been wanting to ask me questions before now.
"I'll answer, but only if you do too." I said quietly, he just nodded, never breaking eye contact.
"Colour?" He prompted.
I didn't know what to say. What was my favourite colour? It didn't help when asking questions that I had to look at him. Everything seemed to have left my head. I noticed something then, he'd closed his eyes briefly for a second, and I could see the faint a bluish purple colour of his eyelids, a pastel violet.
"Amethyst." I blurted out. And then blushed promptly after that. He'd reopened his eyes, and again was staring at me too much. Too deeply trying to unearth why I had answered him like that. I broke his staring. It was not helping my pulse in the slightest. "Your turn."
"Emerald." He said, almost as quickly as I had, he scrunched up his eyebrows then and sighed. His expression was torn. "Emerald and blue. Sapphire blue." This surprised me; I liked blue myself, but not green.
"Pretty gems." I said smiling.
"Indeed." He whispered, still looking at me.
"Next question." I said. Wait. Why was I encouraging him to ask me more? I frowned. And he smiled; he'd caught up on that too.
"Favourite flower?" Jeeez. He liked his favourites didn't he?
"Orchids." I said smiling, they weren't strictly speaking my favourite, but I did like them. My mother used to place them in a vase with lilies. "Wait," I hastily added, "Orchids and Lilies. You?" He smiled, flashing the set of brilliantly white again.
"Bit more traditional myself." He said with a chuckle, I waited for his answer, "Roses." I nodded, though I wasn't sure quite why.
"Thing you want most?" He suddenly whispered, a new fervour underlying his words. I blanched at this. And he frowned at my expression. I would not tell him that. But there was no way out of it, I looked at him, and then inspiration hit. I fluttered my eyes slightly and let a yawn escape my mouth. Hoping he'd leave it at that.
He did, ruefully stepping away from my side. I didn't want that though.
"You're tired; you want to go to sleep."
"I disagree with the latter." I mumbled, admitting the truth. But then a wave of actual tiredness hit me. I could see the night sky outside, an indigo darkness. It was late, and I was suddenly reminded about how little sleep I'd been having. He moved closer again, wrapping the blanket around me like I was a child. I didn't protest though, my eyelids felt heavy all of a sudden. It was odd. Two minutes before I'd never felt more awake. Why was I so sleepy?
"Go to sleep Lucie." Edward murmured softly. I heard a sound outside, brass chuckling. Hang on, I knew that voice…
"You…" I tried to keep my eyes open but they kept fluttering shut again. The overwhelming urge to keep them shut kept washing over me. I felt dizzy with it. Only one person made me feel like this, it all clicked into place. "You…Jasper's… here…" He grinned, and muttered something too low for me to hear, though I caught the last part, I wanted to open my eyes, see Jasper at the window and confirm my suspicions. But I was so sleepy…
"…yeah, real subtle again,"
"I can't help it; her emotions are jumping like crazy Edward. Seriously, don't act so different all the time. She already thinks you've got bipolar disorder. I swear the girl's going to have a heart attack, you're driving her crazy, too good looking for you own good."
Hehe. This was a funny dream. Odd, the voice sounded just like Jasper...
"Don't be ridiculous Jasper." Hmmm… I knew it was him.
"Alice was right. You're so blind sometimes Edward."
"Alice isn't always right; she just thinks she is…"
Right, that settled it. This was definitely a dream. Edward sounded grumpy in it though.
"Alice is right Edward. You're just being to stubborn to believe it, I trust you don't need me anymore, she can't hear us at the moment, I think she's already asleep. Night."
"Yeah," Someone grumbled, but I could detect a confused edge to it. "night." Maybe that was something the dream had given me. Powers to detect things better in speech. I had to admit, even for my sort of dream, it was pretty rubbishy. Why couldn't I fly in this dream huh? And wait. Why couldn't I see in this dream?
"Edward?" I asked, not opening my eyes though. Even if I couldn't see, I was content. I'd keep them shut for just a bit longer, I wonder if this was one of those dreams in which I could make people do what I wanted… Ooh, the possibilities…
"Talk to me… in French." Why did I say it? I didn't like French, it made no sense to me with all its verbs and accents, and besides that… my words were slurring, I think I said Frwench, oh crud, I sounded drunk. Why was I sounding drunk? I didn't want to. And this was my dream…But he just chuckled again. And complied instantly to my random request.
"Je pense à toi, le soleil couchant."
I felt my eyelids flutter. I'd heard that before somewhere…
"Chaque jour, une belle spectacle."
I felt a soft sensation brush my forehead, a cold touch.
"Illumination; une lumèrie éblouissante…"
The words faded, and then my dreams merged and formed. Replacing the reality that I'd assumed was fake. I could hear a tune again a beautiful humming. And if I wasn't asleep before, I knew I would be soon, lulled by the soft music.
As I experienced oblivion once more.
And let the darkness consume.
***
"Edward, wait, you can't just leave-"
That was the sound I awoke to: the shrill voice, tainted with undeniable worry and fear. A high pitched peal of soprano, raising an octave with each sentence. "Wait Edward, we have to talk to Carlisle-" I knew that voice.
"No Alice," Yeah, so it was Alice. "I have to go now."
"Edward, no she's going to be okay, we don't even know if Victoria's got her, or if anything's happened, I'm just-"
"Why Alice? Why didn't you see this?"
And that was the point when I realised I should open my eyes.
They didn't seem to notice at first, both were at the window. Edward looked as if he was going to leap out of it in a second. His face was twisted in an expression of rage and horror. Alice had an arm on his, and I knew how much pressure she had to be exerting to make him stay put.
This was my room, I was on my bed, and the sky outside was dark, an indigo darkness. I didn't even know if I'd fallen asleep for long, was it night or day? Alice and Edward were staring at each other, seemingly oblivious to my awake, I could tell Edward was reading Alice's mind my head span when I tried to sit up though, I was desperate to make sense of the conversation. My eyes focused on the clock beside my bed.
2.12 am
Right. So it was morning, very early in the morning…
And then my mind processed one word of the heated argument they were having before. Victoria.
"See Edward? You can't just go off and search for her, we need to tell Carlisle, only Jasper and I know as yet, you can't-" But Edward cut across her, I'd never seen him so irate before, though when he spoke, all traces of anger were leached from his voice.
"She didn't come back…"
I'm sorry, but what the hell were they talking about?! I was just about to proclaim this rather significant point of mine when Alice finally noticed me.
"Oh god, Lucie…" She wrapped her arms around me lightly, setting me on my feet; I just stared at her in bemusement. Alice was looking at me with concern; I turned to Edward, and withheld a gasp at his expression.
"It's not she who's in danger Alice." His voice was inexplicitly hard.
The fear had gone now. He looked at me with rage.
"Edward," Alice scolded. "she's not yet, and we should-" But he wasn't listening. The moment Alice had let go of her arm he was half way through the window.
"I have to find her Alice, this is all my fault-" I thought he'd jumped then, (he had vanished from the window) until I heard the muffled growl below.
Wait. Growl?
I glared at Alice, expecting answers to my questions. The main one being: what the hell was happening? She seemed to sense my confusion as she frowned, whispering to me in a quick high voice.
"Bella didn't come back last night Lucie."
And then it all made sense.
Bella hadn't gone to the Cullen's last night, she's been with Jacob. He hadn't known about the Volturi. Edward's rage at me. He hadn't protected Bella and…
"Victoria…" I whispered Alice frowned at me.
"Same reaction as Edward," She muttered, "though you weren't quite so rude about it." I looked at were she was staring, outside there was little light, but I could see by our dim porch light. Jasper was talking to Edward, an arm on his, restraining him. He was standing still, but the stance didn't make sense when compared to how he'd been talking earlier.
"Alice…" I said warily, "if Bella didn't come back, then where?-" Edward's head snapped round at her name, he'd lost the calm stance, and before Jasper could restrain him further. Had vanished. Jasper sighed, it was only then did I realise that he'd been using his gift to calm Edward, but he'd lost focus, or Edward had heard…
Oh crud. I think I did that.
My hand flew to my mouth. "Oh Alice, I'm so sorry!" She just smiled ruefully at me shaking her head as Jasper climbed up to her, snaking an arm round her minuscule waist.
"Trust me Lucie; he wasn't going to stay much longer." I sighed. I didn't doubt that. She looked at me, and handed a bundle. I stared at it; my confusion was really frustrating at the moment. "Go get changed." she said softly. I did, and got changed quickly in the bathroom. Though I knew the only reason Alice had said that was so that she could speak to Jasper alone.
"Wh-what do we do?" I hated the fact that my voice shook. Despite myself, I felt tired; I couldn't have had more then an hours sleep. Jasper looked from me to Alice before speaking in a low voice, his eyes were a bright gold, he must have just hunted.
"We follow him."
***
I was only vaguely aware of getting into Alice's Porsche. And when I did I could only squeak my horror as I remembered.
"My Father…" Jasper's calm voice answered me.
"He's safe Lucie," I wasn't convinced, despite the fact I could feel calm lapping against me, I repelled it. I needed to think straight, I was about to protest when he whispered quietly to me: "I promise."
I didn't question the seriousness in Jasper's eyes or their profundity. And I suddenly felt selfish, worrying about my father when Bella was probably right now being tortured by a sadistic vampire…
Why? Why did my mind have to come up with things like that?
I sat quietly then. But inside my mind was screaming. I'd been stupid. Here I was now, part of me feeling like I wanted to demand answers from Jasper and Alice, to make sense of everything, and the other half craving missed sleep.
I could have made sense of things last night. I could have asked Edward to tell me why my father had been acting oddly, and what he was keeping secret from me. I could have and I should have. At least then I could have been slightly useful, now I felt worthless.
"Look Lucie, I'm sorry but you have to stay here." A voice broke me out of my reverie
"What?" I asked.
Somehow we were walking to the Cullens' door. What? Ugh. This seemed to be happening a lot recently, me not realising that we were walking. I turned to them though when we were at their door.
"Lucie," Alice murmured, her voice was kind but she sounded anxious. She wanted to find Edward, I knew that much. "please just wait here, Rosalie and Emmett are already searching for Edward, Jasper called them. But Esme will stay here and look after you." Her words were like a blow. Protection. That's what they thought I needed.
"No Alice," I said firmly. "I want to come with you." I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be weak.
"No." Jasper said. I could feel my anger bubbling inside me, but I couldn't force it to surface with Jasper present. "Promise me you'll stay here Lucie." He said earnestly, but I couldn't agree to that. "Promise me you won't follow us."
And then I had a dilemma. Jasper had promised to keep my father safe…
"Fine." I let out, and before I could say anything else they were running, and soon engulfed by the darkness. I half expected Esme to magically appear and escort me inside. But she didn't.
Now the night seemed filled with possibilities again.
I don't know what possessed me in those next few moments. All I was aware of was that in the next instant I was at the brink of the forest. Sense was screaming at me to turn back. But I ignored it. I wasn't breaking Jasper's promise. I chanted to myself as I began to ran, I am not following them.
The forest seemed very dark as I walked swiftly through the trees; it reminded me of my most recent nightmare. I shook off the thought, my anger spurring me forward. The Cullens could not keep me locked up. Bella was missing, and it was my fault.
I kept on pushing through the trees. The air was crisp and icy. I was only wearing the light shirt Alice had given me. It did nothing to protect my skin from the cold. But I was somehow oblivious to it. I just felt numb. Numbness replaced any irrational feelings that I should have been experiencing. The cold could not reach me, and this fact both made me grateful, and terrified me.
I hated numbness.
The sense of unease seemed to intensify the deeper I walked. My breathing was steady though, despite the rough terrain and how far I'd come, I wasn't tired because of exertion.
I could almost detect a rhythm to my footsteps as I walked. The ground beneath me was treacherous with roots and wet moss. Though I didn't stumble, the moment I thought of this, it struck me as odd. I'd never been a very graceful person, though not as clumsy as Bella.
Bella.
The sight of Edward, alight in rage came before me again, and I tried to banish it from my thoughts. Edward loved Bella. He was taking the blame for her absence; despite the fact he'd only tried to protect me. I had put her in danger. I was weak, in need of protection, and Edward had done that instead of looking after Bella.
He regrets doing that.
I didn't argue or try to shut up my thoughts now. They were the truth. I cold still see the way Edward had turned to face me when Alice had been explaining. He'd evidently heard it before I had, being able to read Alice's mind.
Horror had been plain on his features. That much was certain Horror and regret. For a second I'd thought he'd not feel rueful about protecting me. But he did. He regretted it. And I knew his regret would turn to rage, the fire would ignite in his terrible gold eyes. He hated me.
As I did myself.
Dawn hadn't yet fallen over the horizon; there was no sunlight to lead me forward, just the faint moonlight ribbon. It was as if the beauty had been latched from the forest, instead of flowers and green only dark objects presented themselves to my touch. I should have been afraid of this; the darkness. But I didn't. One couldn't feel fear when they were numb.
Though eventually after what felt like an hour of walking, the trees loomed before me eerily, each casting ominous opaque shadows. Mist gripped to the lower branches, creating an effect close to the likes of a spider's web.
The thought chilled me. A spider's web.
And I was the fly.
Suddenly, the air seemed to thicken, the cold I'd been so oblivious to earlier was now hitting me like a thousand knives, each piercing my skin. I didn't shiver though. It was as if my body had frozen, and I couldn't move. Immobilised by fear. The thought of this had my heart beat erratically, as if preparing for an attack. I waited, my breathing stopped.
Silence.
That was all that answered me in this clearing. A terrible silence as the sun faded from the sky, leaving only the eternal night to hold me. I was stupid to have come. Stupid to have even thought anything would await me here but the meadow. But even as I watched, the light in the distance (emitted by the incandescent moon) seemed to fade. Nightfall. The time of day in which darkness falls and night begins. That's what this felt like. But it wasn't. I knew it would be little after 3am now. I didn't realise how dark it was at this time though, the thought chilled me.
I should have left then. I knew that. I should have been running from the place instead of being paralysed still. It was too much to be coincidence with the exact same feelings and emotions coursing through me. Like déjà vu but worse, more specific. More deadly.
And that was why I didn't leave.
I gasped as I relived my dream again.
I couldn't see for all the darkness; couldn't hear for the blood pumping in my ears. Another tumult of fear shook me, horrified at the prospect of nothingness. But as I stood frozen, trapped by the eternal night, I realised I could finally hear, as well as see the ominous forest around me. The ink black trees stood out vividly against the blood read sky.
There was no one here. I felt the breath escape my lips in relief, before the dominant fear made them tremble, ceasing the translucent wisps of smoke. The sound; a voice saying something, unclear, unfocused, fading into the distance with each dwindling breath.
I could see someone now, off in the distance, her hair whipping ferociously round her face.
Her voice rang clearly through the trees; hauntingly familiar, I caught one word before I fell, letting the darkness seize me.
"Run."
I was shuddering when I reopened my eyes, staring straight ahead into the same exact spot of trees.
I wasn't running.
Because I wanted to see her. I wanted to prove my visions weren't just dreams; that despite everything I'd claimed, they were significant and I wanted my mother to come to me. I wanted her to tell me it was okay to cry. I wanted her to answer my questions. I wanted her. I'd always done as she'd asked, requested.
Expect when she told you to run.
I shut my thoughts off. If I ran, I wouldn't find her.
My every instinct was telling me that. To run. Each nerve screamed in protest as I stepped closer.
I wasn't running.
The cold pierced my skin again, this time harder. Another gasp escaped my frozen lips. My mind was screaming, but the grass was swaying eerily, enticing, alluring. Drawing me forever closer. I felt like I was in another dream, each movement closer to the darker trees felt more and more familiar. The grass was tall, sweeping softly against my bare arms, like a soft caress.
"You should have wondered more about that crack in your floorboards."
It was a strange sound, like a twisted girlish laugh. A peal of high chimed bells slightly off key.
I turned round sharply, loosing my balance and grazing me knee against a rock. The voice had drifted from a different direction to the one I'd been facing. I saw red as I noted the rip in my trousers. Warm blood pulsing out of it. Matching the said frenzied tempo of the deafening pulse in my ears.
I wasn't running.
But I didn't register the pain as I faced her.
Run Lucie, run. It wasn't my own mind who was begging.
My breathing hitched in my throat.
I was unable to scream.
"Hello Luciana."
Run. The voice was urgent.
But I knew it was too late.
***
DUN DUN DUNNNN!
You know what… I think I'll leave you in suspense and not babble on to placate everyone :p *cackles evilly*
Okay. Well… that might not exactly work knowing me. The babbling isn't intentional I swear, it just slips out…;) Oh dear… this chapter is long. Now I felt nice, I decided against splitting it into two (because otherwise there'll NEVER be any action :p) Though I probably should have split it into two… ah well. Do you people hate long chapters? Ahhh…
Oh, and speaking of said action, proclaim your exultation people! I think we've finally got some action on our way! I won't say who Lucie is currently staring at, with blood pulsing down her leg (honestly… the girl ought to be more careful eh?) but I think it's pretty obvious :p Now. I'm expecting unhappy reviews, am I right? Did you hate this chapter? :s SORRY. Next one is much better, I think ( I hope..) so don't go off thinking: 'ugh. I've just wasted five precious minutes of my life whilst reading this?! I shall never review again.' Ach. No. Please don't think that!
Okay, so why did Lucie go into the forest? First of all, she's seriously sleepy… and second, she was subconsciously hoping that she'd find her mother. I just want to make that clear, because I can practically feel people saying: 'why are you going into the forest?! STUPID GIRL! Vampires FEED there.'
Now. I hope you're all wondering where Bella is… *zips mouth shut* I bet this has discombobulated (a very special word. I advise you look it up :p) you… was it confuzzeling? Gah. Sorry if it was :s I told you, a hard chapter to write, and not one that I'm particularly proud of… but hey, I couldn't just delete it all…
Poor Lucie… she's not getting much sleep is she? Ha, I bet lots of people are going to go back to hating Edward again, am I right? There was FRENCH in there… if you understood what Edward said to Lucie, well… then I think you'd forgive him a bit ;)
Oh and by the way. I should, right this instant, be revsing mega hard, because… I haven't done so at all really. But no. I'm updating. So, if I fail the Chemistry & Physics test, I'll blame it on you :p Okay? And Ugh. Ugh, ugh. People were practically TORMENTING me about their City Of Glass Books (t'was unintentional I'm sure) .… Grrss.. I REALLY need that book. But alas, as you may (or probably just skipped it) have heard in a previous babble, my dad REFUSES to buy me any more books. And thus, won't buy one from Amazon for me. I offered to pay, but noooo… apparently I should invest my money for something useful.
USEFUL? Since when are books not useful?!
I'm officially going to shut up. Yeah, I ranted sorry, sorry, sorry. Just remember that if you thought the update was late. It was the SHREW's fault. Not mine. All Little Silly Shrewsie's :p (yush, that is officially the Shrew's new nickname Silly Shrewsie.) And once again… I'm babbling about something completely an utterly ridiculous.
Yeah. I've got a disease…
PLEASE review. That could cure it, I'll bet :p REVIEW pretty, pretty, pretty please? I'll give out a choice this chapter for those who review: either an Emmett, or… Jasper? So yup. You get one of those if you review, now you can't refuse.
REVIEW...and make me write more?
Lily- who has no idea where that shrew's gone now... Mouse is still staring at the bookcase...