Heyy…
*whispers* Is anybody still there?
Anyone left to read all this?
Because, well - there's rather a lot…
So I've returned. Yeah. Sliiiiightly long absence, I'll admit. Though I was slightly surprised at some reviewer's reaction to my lack of updates. I was shocked. Really, you people do tend to jump to conclusions, namely, this:
'It's official. She's dead.'
Ha. So, as you may have already worked out, no, I'm not dead. I'm alive and well (though sunburned, and looking like a complete freak amongst all of the pasty pale English) much to your disappointment. I'm not going to drone on with countless apologies, because I know you're all sick of them. I am sorry though, and I really, really appreciate people's patience with the matter. I'm back now. For good. So rest assured, you won't ever have to wait over a month for an update.
Now, for those of you who have any sense, you'll skip this paragraph. And the next. And probably the next after that too. It's just a run-down of what my life has been like (the short version… you'd probably die if you ever read the long one) these past few weeks :p I had a fantastic time on holiday, for anyone interested - In sunny New Zealand. It snowed a lot in the UK, and typically, I managed to miss ALL OF IT. Ah well. For Christmas, I received my very own Nelephant from my dad. (He's called Runty. 'Tis a small nelephant.) and in return, I bought my dad a book. Anyone read: Elephants on Acid? … Well, I'm guilty of grafting the title. It's now called: Nelephants on Acid. I recommend you do the same to your copy *promptly gets sued for encouraging the vandalising of precious books*
I'm very behind in school work; but I'll manage. I'm officially sick of doing GCSEs a year early. (For those of you who don't live in England, GCSEs are Ghastly Cruddy Stupid Exams, which take up way too much of people's time, and are officially hated by moi. They're traditionally taken when one is 16. Except half of mine aren't. I'm taking my Science ones, Art ones, History, and French - annnnd probably Spanish too - earlier than most do. Why? Stupid teachers think I'm capable of it. The fools.)
I had a History exam the day I got home. After having around 4 hours sleep in 2 days. It was awful. Darn Stalin and his stupid-way-too-difficult-to-remember Five Year Plans and Collectivisation. (I spent most of the exam describing - and, no doubt, wasting my time - and explaining that Stalin was a despotic man; Tsar Nicholas II was an ignorant autocrat; that Lenin proved to be pragmatic; and that Trotsky was the essential key to the Civil War. But I'll stop there - you don't want to hear about that. Needless to say, I ran out of time in the exam. I babbled too much in it. Big surprise.)
So I'm convinced I've failed that - but then again, I seem to be continuously convinced that I failed all my exams. The good news (gasp) is that I DIDN'T fail all my Science exams like I expected too. Phew. I got A*s on Biology, Chemistry, and Physics. Finally there's proof that cramming like crazy the night before a test DOES work.
Right. I have a preposition for you all. Are you sick of waiting so long between updates?
*Collective nod from readers*
Well, I was thinking you could… you know, check out my OTHER story in-between (or betwixt…ha. No. That's not very funny) reading this one? *Heh… not advertising at all, of course*It's called Betwixt and Between, and if you pop along to that drivelling profile of mine, you can scroll to the bottom, and then pretend to be surprised to see it there. Heck, you can even exclaim: "GORDON BENNETT!" At the sight of it :p In fact, I think you should. Seriously though, I really recommend you check it out. It'll be worth your while. Promise. No, it's not a Twilight fanfic; it's a Harry Potter one. But it's good. If you're reading this story and Betwixt and Between - then you officially get your own Nelephant. Come on. That's an offer you simply can't refuse. And I'll update it every week, maybe even more so.
*Collective gasp from readers*
Anyway, without further ado, I present the long awaited chapter.
Don't suffer too much ;)
What Happened Last Chapter:
Before I could hear her response, before I could even see her expression, Carlisle had moved swiftly to my side, and had injected something into my arm.
"No!" I yelled, whipping around to glare at him, furious. His light golden eyes looked apologetic; he was talking to me…so why can't I hear him? I reached out, irrationally wanting to hit him. But my arms were still trapped in Emmett's iron strong with Emmett's support though, the entire room was just… rotating - in horror I turned my head back to Carlisle, who looked about ready to seize me. His lips were moving, I could only lip read two of his words though 'I'm sorry', I looked down with horror, as he pulled out the syringe from my arm, my eyes opening wide, my entire body numb, head spinning…
"You didn't…"I whispered furiously, but I couldn't say anything else.
Because for what felt like the hundredth time, my world was reduced darkness.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
***
The Unforgettable Lullaby
Bella's POV:
I never wanted this to happen. I still couldn't quite believe it. I felt like I was about to wake up in a second, sweat on my forehead, twisting, only to have arms wrap around me. Telling me that it's okay. That it was just a nightmare. Just a dream. Not real...
I never wanted this to happen. Never, never had I thought my actions would makes things worse. I'd thought in self sacrifice, I'd save others… instead of leading everyone - everyone I cared about - into a trap.
I never wanted this to happen. And I didn't want to deal with the consequences - terrible consequences at that. Consequences I was scared of, and ones which inevitably arose because of my choice.
I never wanted this to happen…
Aro stepped before me, a look of unsurpassed glee twisting his normally impassive features.
But he did.
***
Edward's POV:
Red. Black. Green-
Fast, furious colours swirled around me, no more than blurs because of my speed. Victoria's red hair kept distracting me; it whipped around in every direction, making it hard to pin point exactly where she stood.
Guttural snarls had replaced her syrupy coos, her elegant twirls transformed to violent lurches. But she was still wearing the same expression: one of malice and glee, twisted and cruel. Each swipe I made at her was carefully missed, too easily parried.
But slowly - horribly slowly, each second pulling at me - I began to notice things. Small ones. Like the way she would stumble slightly if I managed to hit her left side or the laboured, unnecessary breaths; the pained set her lips had taken.
Small things. Tiny, really.
But things that let me knew she was weakening,
For God's sake Edward, stop being such a prat - leave Victoria and - oh, just listen to me!
Alice kept on trying to divert my attention from her. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't leave Victoria alive. Not this time.
Abruptly, Alice yelled at me in desperation, no longer bothering to communicate silently. Her voice had raised several octaves; combined with the squawks of several birds that had just been dislodged from a tree (Jacob had just slammed yet another newborn into it. He seemed to have a thing when it came to hitting vampires into trees.)
"Edward look, your right!"
I turned around just in time to dodge the newborn that launched himself at me, and anger - unrepentant and raw fury boiled inside me. The fact that Victoria had relied on someone else to distract me, purely so she could gain the upper hand, made me want to hurt her more than ever. I turned back to her - using every ounce of restraint I had not to ruin my subtle attack and just launch myself at her - unleashing a very low, very deadly growl. Her lips cracked into another grin, her childish voice replaced by something deeper, an enticing drawl designed to tempt. The voice I knew she'd adopt whenever she planned to ensnare her victim.
One she'd use before she went in for the kill.
"Oh, close one Edward - don't look so taken aback," Her white teeth glinted in the moonlight. I couldn't even speak. Just one slip up. That's all I needed to take her. But she drew towards me slowly, casually at ease, a dark fire glinting in her ruby eyes.
"After all, I never said I'd play fair…"
***
The fight continued, Alice still trying to break me from it, urgency practically radiating from her. I knew she wanted to tell me something important, but my mind seemed to be fixed on only one thing.
Killing her.
Suddenly, Jacob ran in front of me, blocking Victoria. I stopped short for a second at his thoughts.
Go back to her.
"What?" I whispered, and even though I could hear snarling on either side of us, even though I knew Alice and Victoria were fighting faster than ever, I couldn't seem to move. I dodged an attack to my left instinctively, but otherwise, remained very still.
The battle reduced to a mere blur, white noise and dull colours.
The wolf looked at me, with dark eyes and matted fur, blood and mud mixed together on his russet coat. In all senses, this was the point where he seemed most inhuman, most animal. But there was something else in his normally hostile stare - something I'd never seen before. Almost like… pity.
Go back to her, He repeated simply, go back to Lucie; she needs you. If Aro gets her too… He didn't finish that sentence. But I was still unmoving, still staring at him. Jacob's thoughts became more urgent. A knock to the side from the one of the last newborns sharply reminded me we were still in battle. But Jacob didn't stop staring at me, just winced at the contact. (well, if a wolf could wince, that's what he did.)
Go.
I made a decision then. One that would change everything that preceded it. One that I'd wanted to do ever since Alice had come into the clearing. One that I couldn't face up to - even now. I stared back at Jacob, oblivious to the battle around me.
And I made my choice.
***
Bella's POV:
What have I done?
The question seems to echo around my head, reverberating in my mind. Refusing to fade away.
Cold bit against my skin like knives, but I couldn't feel it. Not yet. My thoughts were far worse than any physical pain. My stomach was knotted, painful and cramp. Every part of me was sore. It was a penance. Something I should, under all accounts, endure. I had unwillingly turned the bets in my sick captor's favour. I had taken part in his scheme, his plan - one that I'd been foolish enough to believe as innocent. I had played into his hands as easily as his other victims, fallen into the trap that would surely lead to my loved ones deaths.
I looked up into his blood red eyes, unashamed when I started to cry
***
Edward's POV:
Carlisle looked at me, his features set in an austere expression. His thoughts were too complex for me to make sense of. But then again so were mine, I attempted to speak, but it was only her name that left my lips.
"Lucie…" He didn't say anything at first, just continued to stare at me, his normally butterscotch eyes tarns of solemn ochre.
"Her blood Edward…" He said, and I felt my fists clench at my sides at the mention of it. "She's fine-" He amended quickly at my expression, "She's okay Edward, it's just that… her blood - it's not -" He was, for the first time I'd heard him, struggling for words, "not normal. I don't know what it is, but I did a few blood tests on her while she was unconscious. I don't understand why we haven't done them before come to think of it - but there was certainly no way we could have realised anything without them. Our senses are useless at some things. There's something odd about her blood, her circulation is poor but she doesn't get cold quickly. Which is exceedingly odd considering-"
"Has she been eating?" I asked before he'd finished, I had a headache from all he was trying to tell me. But I didn't care about her being an anomaly medically. I didn't want to listen to Carlisle's theories and discoveries. There wasn't time for that. I just want to find her and see if she's alright… "I told you-" My voice was strained. "To make sure she ate something…"
Carlisle gave me an exasperating look.
"Yes," He said wearily, "She's been eating, lots in fact. I'm certain she doesn't have an aversion to food. But because for her current weight alone she should be constantly shivering, that added to the fact that she has poor circulation means that she should, in all senses, be cold." He massaged his temples, as if the act would somehow help this thought process, "I've looked at it though so many angles; thought up a dozen hypothesises; tried again and again to look for a solution… but it doesn't make sense."
"Never mind that-" I stopped him before he could say more, "Have you considered an irregular blood transfusion? Anyway, it doesn't matter. She's safe right? She's healthy…" I tried to keep back some of the fervency in my mind, reluctant to portray as much in my voice. Thought Carlisle only looked pointedly back at me.
"Barely so." He said quietly, "She's strong Edward, I'll give her that. It isn't that she's weak per se, no, she's actually remarkably active and alert considering her injuries - injuries, please note, that should have kept her in bed for days-" His frowned deeply, pacing up the room in an effort to think straight. "No, it's the fact that she isn't weak, that's worrying me. I can't grasp it. Not at all. I can't figure out how she's managed to fight back at everything so efficiently. It's like all of a sudden her defences have been doubled…"
"And yet…" I trailed off, the image of her slumped in Emmett's arms surfacing to mind. That wasn't strength. "What happened? Esme-"
"Lucie saw her past," Carlisle sighed resignedly, "It's stupid of me, of course her regaining of strength would have resulted in that. It was only a matter of time anyway - she said that it happened when she becomes particularly curious or interested in someone. At least that's the variable she can explain most efficiently. It makes sense, after all: why wouldn't we induce curiosity?" He ran a hand through his honey hair, a stressed gesture, "I should have foreseen it. The only problem was that Esme… she knew something we didn't. Esme knew Lucie's mother."
"She what?"
"Knew her mother…" Carlisle repeated, his wide eyes mirroring my disbelief, "Well, perhaps not properly. They didn't ever speak to each other, but she saw her. It appears that Arielle - that's her name, by the way - has appeared more than once in Esme's past. But, of course, there was no way for her to know that she was related to Lucie, aside from the minor similarities." My mind conjured up the image of a woman in a white dress, blonde hair trailing down her back as she walked away. I couldn't place where these memories had come from… wait, my mind whispered suddenly, her dream - Lucie's dream, you saw her through Lucie's mind…
Carlisle's voice, foggily returned to me, "I didn't want to pry, but Esme's told me that the later occasion she saw her, Arielle was being followed…" I looked up sharply.
"The Volturi?" I asked quietly, Carlisle nodded.
"We can only assume, she said they wore cloaks."
"Hell," I swore swiftly under my breath.
"I couldn't agree more," Carlisle muttered sadly, shocking me slightly - I'd expected to be reprimand by cursing like that. My mind trailed over to Lucie again, of how she must have felt experiencing Esme's memories. They weren't pleasant, I knew as much from the brief flashes I'd seen in her mind. But even then she'd blocked out the worst from me. Carlisle read my expressions easily, adding lightly: "She's upstairs by the way, Lucie that is."
"Is she sleeping?" I asked softly. He nodded resignedly, before the corners of his lips quirked upwards.
"Not willingly though, she put up quite the fight. I had to give her a strong dosage of Ambien; I'm not going to be terribly popular when she wakes up."
***
Bella's POV:
The cold was becoming unbearable.
I never wanted Jacob more than I did in this moment. Goosebumps marred my skin; I pressed my lips to stop my teeth from chattering. I tried to get some heat from friction, rubbing my arms, but it didn't work. My arms remained stubbornly freezing, looking more translucent than ever in the candle-lit darkness. The light emitted from the flame danced around the walls, yet there was something cold and dead about it, all the warmth and comfort I expected to get from fire was absent from its presence.
I could hear someone approaching. And despite my self, I was scared all over again. Nearly trembling, though it was hard to tell. I was shivering like crazy. I looked up as the heavy footfalls against stone came closer.
Caius was before me, tall and powerful.
And I hated the sight of him.
I avoided his eyes, they were much too dark. I had no way of knowing whether Aro's previous words: "Don't worry; we won't hurt you…" were true. In fact, his tone had implied more of a: "We won't hurt you… yet." And besides… I had learnt not to trust Aro's promises.
So for all I knew, these stoic features could be the last I ever saw.
Crap. I sound morbid. That's what creepy dungeons do to you. They make your thoughts morbid-
"How are you feeling - comfortable, I take it?" Caius said mockingly. I kept my eyes trained on the stone behind him. Just stay calm Bella, don't talk back to him, don't provoke him-
"No. I'm not comfortable. I'm cold, it's dark, and you're imprisoning me."
Well. So much for staying calm.
"Such careless words; you should be cautious there. Those less kind than I might take…offence." He drew the word out, so became more of a hiss; a sound entirely inhuman. "You speak of the cold? Why, surely that is your fault. Your skin should be more impenetrable. And the darkness?" He was silent for a moment, before saying sharply, "Look at me, Isabella."
I didn't avert my eyes from the floor, biting the inside of my cheek to stop shouting back. Isabella again. What is it with vampires and formality?
Suddenly, I felt his cool breath against my neck, his lips inches away from my skin. He murmured there, and I felt nauseated - sick by his scent, so different from the one that I loved, musky and soft - like a fire in a forest.
"I said: look at me…" The threat was laced in his voice, but I still didn't act, I felt his cold hands grip my chin roughly, turning it so forcefully I had to bite back a whimper, to stare at him.
"That wasn't wise to disobey me…" He said softly, "You need to be more…complacent."
"You mean submissive," I spat, disgusted by him.
His lips curled into a smile.
"Yes… that will do too."
I jerk my head away from him, and aim a kick at his calf.
And it's like kicking a wall. Only with less satisfaction.
He whipped around and seized me by the arm. Only he didn't hurt me. No. What he did was worse than that. He drew me closer to him, whispered deeply, bordering on seductive, into my hair. And the grip was so strong, so impenetrable, I could barely even squirm.
"Perhaps I will have to break you to cultivate such submission then…"
"Leave me," It was only a whisper again. "Leave me… please."
He laughed at that. It was raspy; a perverse sort of sound, and it rang around the room. The semblance of sense I had left whispered to me:
Anything. Say anything to get him to leave.
"Stop it!" I covered my ears, "Just go… you can't do any more. I'm broken, okay? I don't have anymore damn weaknesses for you to seek out. You've beaten me. You've won. "
But he laughed harder still at that.
"Ah, but sweet Isabella…" His voice rose, "you are so rife with weaknesses, that they're as plain to me as your pretty little features. Aro is fond of you, I am not. Where he cannot access your mind - a talent that is most curious - I, unlike Aro, can still see how you fear me. How your hair raises when you hear my voice; how your frantic heartbeat races in terror; how your eyes search another's…" I looked up at him. He was right; my eyes did seek a different face. A russet coloured, kinder one.
"Not all secrets can be hidden within the mind, there are some that are easy to see - I could watch them flit across your face - decipher your futile efforts to escape me, predetermine your tactics, unwind whatever strategy you could possibly think up. I can read you, Isabella - even if your shield prohibits others. You are, in all senses, tiresomely predictable, just like the rest of your pathetic race.
"And yet… so much attention is bestowed upon you. I used to question that." He looked at me, his gaze cold and calculating, "You are, after all…only a human."
He laid me to the floor, no longer violent or cruel, and somehow - that gentle gesture, the smoothness of it, that was worse than if he'd thrown me there.
"Though I can't deny how potent that blood of yours is."
He bent down, and kissed me crudely on my neck.
And after he'd left the room, I threw up everything left in my stomach.
***
Edward's POV:
She was just lying there, looking stunning…
You know Edward; you're getting creepier by the day. Watching her sleep like that. Thinking that she's stunning when she's unconscious. Creepy. Plain creepy.
I ignored my thoughts, drinking in her appearance I'd been craving for so long. Not daring to believe that she was perfectly safe, feeling the anxiety and fear ebb away with each of her soft, measured heartbeats.
Her face was devoid of one of its usual infuriatingly cryptic expressions. The mask she put up was gone, and she looked much younger than I'd ever seen her. Much younger, I thought, than seventeen. It was not her body that resembled her youth, despite how slender. She wasn't particularly short, in fact I knew she was slightly above the average height - no, it was her face that seemed so young. When no longer clouded by her fears - fears that she, even at seventeen, shouldn't have to deal with.
I could smell the drug Carlisle had injected running through her veins. It was laced subtly in her blood, making it less appealing for me. I was grateful. I hadn't hunted in a while, and the last thing I wanted was to be tempted to feed. I smiled slightly, imagining her fury at being made to sleep even more. Carlisle had been right, she would be angry at him. Her eyes would burn emerald in her kittenish-rage. I didn't need to worry about her knowing I was here either; she wouldn't wake up for a while. The dosage Carlisle had given her was enough to keep her unconscious for hours.
She lay, I noted absently, at a slightly odd angle. The covers lay crumpled and crushed at her feet, and she was curled slightly to the left. I wondered whether she'd twisted some time before I'd arrived in her sleep, caught up in some nightmare she couldn't escape. Now though, she didn't seem to be experiencing any sort of dream. Her cerise lips slightly parted like the petals of a rose, taking soft, precise breaths, her chest rising and falling.
I abruptly jerked backwards away from her. Stay back, don't get closer to her. You could still leave now - she's safe, she's fine. Alice must have foreseen it wrong. Time is susceptible, interchangeable. She's safe already. Go talk to Carlisle about what Alice said…Just leave already!
But I didn't want to leave.
I sighed, leaning against the doorway, and though my muscles were still tensed, and body poised - I had no intention of moving. Instead I studied her - at this angle, I was able to see her face more clearly.
She was not, as most people would describe, perfect. Not by a long shot. Her lips, though the hue of a fresh rose, were chapped; skin pallid; her hair washed but messy, tresses of it splayed around her still figure. A figure that I was sure she hated, being so far from the stereotypical desire. Not curvaceous and shapely, not even slender and soft like Bella's, but thinner in comparison, far slighter. I knew her eyes would seek out the imperfections, noting the absence of conventional beauty.
I wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Her beauty was too far gone to be conventional. I saw her imperfections, I wasn't blinded - I could see as well as any other, and the imperfections were there and yet I found them just as appealing as anything else. They were more made her real. From her scrawny figure, to her small lips; her wide eyes, to her messy hair. The imperfections were there, plain and clear, and they were what made her so exquisite.
I froze suddenly. Her heartbeat and breathing had changed tempo - the urge to sit next to her and experience what she was nearly made me advance towards her. But she turned suddenly in her sleep, her lips moving silently, uttering mumbled words I couldn't catch, and her hair fell over her face.
I felt myself tense, my mind shouting at me to leave: She can't see you here…. but she soon stopped moving, falling into a deep slumber once more.
Now I found myself feeling, quite irrationally, annoyed. I frowned, I could no longer see her expression, her hair now obscured her face. I cursed softly under my breath. Really, this was typical.
Quickly - partially so that I didn't think better of it - I knelt beside her, blowing against her forehead so that she squirmed a bit, rising slightly and impatiently flicking the hair behind her shoulder. A grin worked its way up my face; she didn't awake - collapsing back onto the bed. I knew this was a minor version of sleepwalking - moving unawares when unconscious.
I leant closer, tracing the curve of her cheek with one finger, and then freezing.
What are you doing?! Do you want her to wake up, see you an inch away from her face and have a heart attack?
No. Not really.
But as I straightened up, I felt her arms come around my neck, prohibiting me from pulling away. The act for me should have been easy to stop - my strength overruled hers significantly. The small movement was a sleeping reaction - it was involuntary. She was unconscious, and therefore had no idea that I was in her presence. I froze again; suddenly nervous she was going to wake up. Lucie needed rest, the ever prominent shadows under her eyes proved as much. .
I found her warm hands behind my neck and pried them loose, but as I pulled, she grasped a hold of my shirt, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep. She wasn't like Bella. The words she spoke rarely made sense. The small murmurs were panicked, but it wasn't just this and the act of her arms around my neck that caused me to stop dead.
It was what I could see.
***
(A/N: I apologise for all the choppy POV switches.Okay, this bit? She's dreaming again and I have only one word for this next bit: SADISTIC. It really creeped me out writing it - though that's partly because I'm the world's biggest wimp - still, it scares me and I was the one who wrote it…heh - yeah, I must be a sadist at heart.)
Lucie's POV:
I was lying, my cheek pressed against cold damp stone. A splitting pain in my head made me wince, and to my horror I couldn't see, groping in darkness. For a heartbeat I thought I was blind, and dread made my throat close up, so much so that I felt like I was drowning. Sinking further into darkness. Slowly the scene before me presented itself, a shaft of light falling from somewhere above me. I focused directly ahead, not having enough strength to search for an escape.
Bella was lying across the floor from me. Blood stained her right cheek and with a jolt I realised she was crying - tears spilling down her porcelain face. Her eyes met mine, and widened - hope and fear chasing each other across her features. Her lips were moving fast, and she was waving her arms, shouting something - but I couldn't hear, it was like I was underwater, unable to move, hear, breathe.
Suddenly everything hit me. I could breathe again, drawing ragged gulps of air into my lungs, and I could hear Bella too - but her words were muffled, too far away to make sense of, like fragmented speech passed under a waterfall.
"Lucie, is that you? Oh crap, no, no, no…Where are they? Jacob - is he here? No, I'm fine - stay still, if they know you're awake it's worse." But she was injured, I scrabbled to my feet, determined to help her. I was the cause of all this - I had to do something, anything. Bella paled further still when I rose, shakily, to my feet. For a second I thought I was going to fall backwards, crumple to the floor. What was wrong with me? The simplest of actions was challenging.
"Get down again!" Bella hissed, looking terrified. She pointed to her blood stained cheek, "See this scratch? It's nothing. Nothing in comparison to what they do. Please, get down. Don't come here, stay away - you're not safe - Lucie! Run. Aro's sent him, Edward won't be able to help - he's sent-"
But derisive laughter cut off her words. Echoing around the walls, its owner obscured in shadow.
I felt my legs give way beneath me, and then the sensation of my stomach plummeting as I was thrown backwards, caught by cold, hard hands. My hands were suddenly pinned to the wall behind me, and I felt suffocated - never before having felt so utterly trapped.
I regained feeling in my limbs, and kicked wildly, only to feel the horrid, clammy feel of a hand resting on my calf, and trailing, sickening slowly to wrap around my waist. I opened my eyes to see the other person, but a cloak was draped around him or her- casting shadow over the face. Slowly, the figure let the hooded cloak fall, revealing a pair of charcoal black eyes, rimmed with scarlet. A named formed in my mind from the depths of someone else's past.
Caius.
He was holding me tightly, the coarse hands gripping my too soft, too fragile skin, restraining me from running to Bella's side. I let out a yell.
"Get off me! Get off!"
A foul stench hit my nose as he breathed down my neck, sending involuntary shivers down my spine. And he turned me, so fast I felt dizzy all over again, a mocking grin working up his lips.
"Demetri was right - you are feisty, are you not? How long, I wonder, will it take to get you to scream…?"
His grip tightened further still, and I hit his iron chest futilely, desperate to escape, as I felt my very clothes start to suffocate - like sheets were wrapping around my legs, binding me still. He laughed bitterly, holding me so it was more of a perverse parody of an embrace, all the while whispering in my ear.
"A bit plain aren't you? To have these men fight for you, or so I've heard - and so ordinary, no refined grace or beauty… And yet my master demands to search for you, and what for, hmmm? Your pretty little friend over there was quite the entertainment before, but Demetri said you were much more fun. More fire, more passion. I like that. Even now," He laughed as I pounded at his chest, "Fighting so valiantly, so bravely, so pathetically… pitiable attempts, my sweet. Futile moves so easily parried, a shallow mind tiresomely easy predict."
"And yet still Aro wants you. Still the Cullens keep you. What's so special?"
I don't answer, and his hand jumped to my throat - pressing against it sot that I couldn't breathe. The sharp, metallic taste of blood hit my tongue.
"Do you think you're pretty? Is this pale imperfection derisible? Answer me."
"N-no." I choked against the hand pressing to my throat. A dribble of blood frothing at the corner of my lips.
Caius watched the droplet work its way down my face, catching it on an ivory finger.
"Well," He grinned, "that can be fixed."
I'm swirling in a pool of darkness; it keeps creeping up in my field of vision. I thrashed furtively against him, grappling at him, scraping - trying to just get him off-
His voice suddenly penetrated my struggles. It was like a slap.
"Be still. "
I couldn't move. He leaned closer, pressing himself against me so hard that I think I'll faint.
"You know, I think mortals like you are far more beautiful when dead…"
In the background, I heard the sound of screaming.
***
Edward's POV:
She was shaking, tangling herself up in the sheets, yelling:
"Get off me! Get off!"
But no one was touching her, I wanted to help: to lift her up into my arms, stop her tremors, do anything, but I was paralyzed still.
Her thoughts flew into my head in torrent of colours, mixing and raging out from her dream and into my head. I knew why she was afraid to sleep. But I had never before guessed that her dreams could get worse. Never had I even considered the fact that they could get more intense than what I'd witnessed before. I'd assumed they'd dissipate over time, that she would become immune to them.
I had been severely mistaken.
Both chilling and haunting images flew, unbidden, into my mind. Darkness and red, horror and pain. They were both disrupted and fragmented, changing subtly from a figure shrouded by shadows and dark room. Bella lay on the floor blood smeared on her cheek, and Caius, fury boiled inside me, Caius - known to be most sadistic of the Volturi - was gripping Lucie, his hands nearly shattering her… and then they changed, morphed, and there was a woman with ash hair, staring at Aro with undisguised hate in her eyes.
The woman turned, green eyes sparking with fear when she looked at me, Aro clicked his fingers, a girl, her figure small and androgynous emerged from the shadows, a beatific smile plastered across her face. A scream broke the silence, blood chilling familiar - closer the girl drew, her smile no longer beatific, instead bestial. More were advancing to the woman, and she was running, and then another figure materialised from the darkness. It turned to me, pulling out something from their cloak as they lifted up the tip of their hood, revealing a white chin, dripping with dark ichor-
I pulled out of them sharply. They were both horrible and eerily captivating. I focused on the girl, her small hands were bleached as pale as mine in the moonlight, the only difference between them was that hers were trembling silently. Her heartbeat was feverishly fast, her lips parting slightly as if prepared to cry out.
She did, and I heard an echoed scream in her dream too. One that was both terrible and haunting. One that awoke a feeling of déjà-vu through me, causing Lucie to shake more violently. Somehow I knew she'd heard that scream before, that this time had not been her first to wake up shaking.
I knew she continually heard that voice; that same distant scream of horror; that it disturbed her sleep each and every night.
Acting as an unforgettable lullaby.
***
I had held her ever since I'd witnessed that. She'd woken up momentarily, and thrashed about, prising my arms off her, all the while screaming. But the Ambien was still in her blood, and she fell asleep again, collapsing back into my arms.
Steadily, her shakes had left, the dreams stopping completely when I held her. It had been hours now; soon it would be dawn, though that wasn't evident by the sky outside - the pale moon bleaching any warmth from the room.
I'd panicked about warmth actually, she wasn't shivering, but surely she would be - must be - cold. It was February, and my arms were like ice, having no blood running through my veins to keep me warm. I'd even stood up, placing her back on the bed and wrapping her in the covers in search for something warmer - but she'd started to tremble, her dreams starting up again. And I'd stopped mid-search.
Being cold, I decided, was better for her than those nightmares.
Now that I was gently cradling her, I cursed softly. I felt half idiotic at not realising sooner, and half angry at Carlisle. The drug he'd given her, Ambien, had acted as an instant sleeping drug, but also caused her dreams to become more complex than usual. Delirious. She really doesn't need this right now…
The only advantage of the drug was this: she wouldn't remember her dreams when she awoke.
I placed her back on the bed - I was just about to call for Carlisle, ask how long the drug affecting her would last, and more specifically, how large the dosage he'd given was, when she sucked in air sharply.
So for the eighth time that evening, I froze.
***
She rose up, twisting in an ephemeral twirl, her light hair falling past her shoulders and spilling over her arched back. I didn't try to move now. I was left spellbound, entranced by a human who didn't even have a clue as to how I really thought of her.
The moonlight flittered through the gap in the dark curtain, casting a ribbon of silver onto her delicate features.
"Edward?" She asked groggily, before her eyelashes had even flickered. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if she was considering searching for me but couldn't find the energy to do so. Slowly her lids fluttered open and she squinted slightly as her eyes accustomed to the darkness, they widened as they took in my silhouette.
I pressed a finger to my lips.
"Go back to sleep," I said quietly, my voice no more substantial than the darkness that surrounded us. She shook her head stubbornly, fighting to keep her eyes open.
"Wh-what are you doing here? Why am here? I was with your family… Esme, my mum - I thought…." I stopped her, removing my finger from my lips, and instead, pressing it to hers. Her pale skin, though unblemished as a bowl of cream, was too wan, her cheeks too sallow. I felt something anxious inside me twist painfully. She looked so frail. Her determination was little when asleep, the very thing that made her so strong.
When she was like this, she was utterly defenceless.
Her lips began to move under my finger, a muffled and disorientated, "How can you be here?" was said against it.
"You're dreaming." I invented quickly.
"I'm not," She mumbled against my finger, but the rest of her words were lost. She blinked sleepily again, and her eyelashes brushed against the tops of her cheeks. I couldn't help noticing at this moment, just how different her eyes were to Bella's. Everything from their shape to colour was poles apart. Where Bella's eyes were a resolute chocolate brown, hers were caramel melded with jade. And where Bella's lashes were long and thick, Lucie's were like fine spindled ink. Her eyes were bigger too; almost off-balancing in her small face, a thing - I was sure - that she would judge herself down on. Thinking they were abnormal, unattractive even.
How wrong she was.
Her eyes reopened, and she stared resolutely back at me.
"My dreams are never this pleasant." She said this in a confused voice, like she was stating a fact she didn't fully understand. I tensed suddenly, afraid she could remember her most recent nightmare, but no fear fell across her eyes, only confusion and…awe? I nearly snorted. Right. Awe…
"Well then," I mused, still quietly, not wanting to let her fully awake, "This dream is breaking the tradition, isn't it?" I gave her a crooked smile, her heart began to thrum louder, but she didn't smile back. A calculating look had fallen over her features; she looked so small and childlike, unquestionably cute.
"You're real." She stated in a whisper, trying to push herself upwards. My hands were instantly at her shoulders, unwilling to let her stand. She frowned. "See?" She said quietly, "you're real, you're here. You have to have substance to stop me moving like that."
"Have you ever had a dream where things have seemed real?" I asked softly. I could tell that she had several, the one I'd interrupted being her most recent. Images and sounds of her screaming filled my head; I struggled to keep my face calm, composed. Her terror scared me more than I could express.
But she didn't seem scared now. On the contrary, she merely looked confused, my words making perfect sense.
"I'm awake." She said slowly, uncertainty…
"You're not," I contradicted her, a small smile pulling at my lips again, keeping my voice soft and soothing.
"I don't believe you." She said firmly, but her eyes flickered slightly with the temptation of sleep. The Ambien running trough her veins was still strong, she shouldn't be awake at all yet… I pushed the thought aside as her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Well you're going to have to," I murmured, leaning closer.
"Why?" She asked simply, a yawn escaping her.
"Because I said so." I said, just as simply.
"But if you really are a dream," She said carefully, but her voice was quieter still, "that is to say, the random firings of neurone cells as interpreted by the brain," Her lip twitched slightly as she said that, smiling at a joke I didn't get, but her face puckered abruptly as she focused on me again "Then that means… that you're just a figment of my imagination. You don't have a mind of your own. You're just scattered thoughts. My thoughts… so…I can make you do what I want."
I wanted to sigh; trust her to be so logical on the matter.
"Can you now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow
"Yes." She muttered resolutely. Even in this tired haze, she still managed to look cross when she stared at my arched eyebrow. I chuckled at her expression, amused that her eyes were fixed stubbornly on my forehead. This seemed to aggravate her, in one swift motion she stood up, tilting slightly on her unstable feet.
The motion had been so spontaneous for someone half asleep I hadn't expected it, she grinned in triumph at the look of shock plastered on my face and my lack of reaction. But her grin faltered as she swayed, a prick of fear alighting her hazel eyes as she felt her legs give way beneath her.
I caught her easily, effortlessly; catching her was practically second nature.
Her skin was so soft under my fingertips, warmer and smoother than I'd anticipated. Her breath caught suddenly, and then there were a few heartbeats of silence between us. And suddenly, with no warning and with an almost bone-crushing force, an epiphany struck me - so strong felt like I was going to stagger backwards.
I never want to let her go…
"See?" She mumbled crossly, jolting me back to reality, her small face scowling a little, "If you weren't real, if you were a dream - that, your little moving-faster-than-life stunt, wouldn't have happened." My mind seemed slow in processing that, but she was right of course, I quickly changed the subject.
"But didn't you just say you can make me do what you want?"
She hesitated for a second, instantly wary.
"Well, yeah…"
"And can you honestly say you didn't want me to catch you?" I smirked slightly at the blush that tinted her cheeks. She let out a gust of frustrated air.
"This wouldn't be happening!" I held back a laugh, heck, she was actually pouting! "I don't like being teased. If I was dreaming…" She yawned widely, her hand covering her mouth slightly afterwards, her reactions delayed. "I…" but her head titled a bit to the side, and her breathing was becoming gradually more soft and measured. Even the thrum of her heartbeat was slowly getting slower, I smiled - she would be asleep again within moments.
Abruptly she tensed in my hold of her.
"Why are you smiling?" Her tone was interrogating. Falling in and out of consciousness. "Oh, only because I'm a figment," I said wistfully, it was highly amusing how distracted she was in this state. "I can't do much else see, that is - unless your mind thinks of something. After all, like you said - I'm part of your imagination."
"You are…" She said, her grip on consciousness slackening again. "So I can make you do what I want..." I grinned despite myself.
And… we're back to square one…
"Then how about you try it," I said, dipping my head so I could murmur against her ear "let me prove that you're dreaming."
She mulled over this for a second, before letting her eyes flicker shut, like she was accepting defeat. Her eyelids were a pale amethyst, and I realised with a jolt they were like mine. The same colour because of how little sleep she was getting.
She let her slight frame become suspended by my arms and she seemed so peaceful in that moment, so free of fear and thought in comparison to before, I thought this time she truly was asleep. But unpredictably, she exhaled in a sigh, before opening her eyes quickly as if to make sure I hadn't vanished.
Did I just see relief in her expression?
Slowly, she prised my arms off her, placing them neatly by my sides. I almost didn't let her go, but her stance seemed steady enough - for the moment anyway. She frowned a fraction, her neat eyebrows drawing together, contemplating me.
Not removing her eyes from my own, she whispered her next words in a rush; they tumbled hurriedly through her lips.
"Kiss me."
***
And suddenly, I found myself across the room. Baking away from her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I'd let my emotions get the better of me. My mind was racing, desire and thoughts too entangled up - too twisted and entwined. But I knew what I wanted to do. And that was the reason I'd come here in the first place. The reason I'd broken from the battle, why I'd had to break from it.
It's her… It's always her.
And God, she was just standing there. Looking beautiful again. Hurt flashing up in her eyes, crumpling her expression, her eyes widening as if she's only just realised she'd said that aloud. Guilt surged through me, but I didn't comfort her, I stayed back, placing a good few meters between us, fighting against an almost magnetic pull to do exactly what she'd just asked.
Why is it so hard?
But the truth was crashing around me, hitting me like the fragmented shards of a mirror, glancing off me and leaving a numb pain. The truth, that even now, I do my best to ignore.
I knew that if I was any closer - I'd do it in a heartbeat. I wouldn't be able to stop. Despite everything, my control would crumple.
No. Stop thinking like that.
This can't happen. It shouldn't happen.
And yet that question remains, burning amidst the chaos:
Why the hell do I want it to happen?!
Why do I want it so damn much?
***
Lucie's POV:
Why did I say it?
The question formed the second the word had left my lips. And I knew how stupid I was. How idiotic. Because I could see his response, his reaction to that stupid thing I said. In a heartbeat, he flung himself backwards, and there's a look of such confusion on his features, such pain… that I don't know what to think.
I couldn't think.
But he spoke up suddenly, so I listened.
"I… don't think… that would be…"
He wasn't looking at me, for the first time - I saw him wringing his hands, then clenching them. His words were strangled. Disjointed. I hadn't stopped staring at him, and he looked at me for the briefest, most infinitesimal of moments - as though afraid any longer than that could change his mind.
He seemed to choke on the last word.
"Wise."
His words didn't register with me at first. I'm still half asleep. In fact, it's like I'm only just awake. Like my dream is glass, shattering to pieces around me, the shards cutting me as they fall.
I felt stunned. Shocked. Stupid. His rejection was obvious. Why was I being so idiotic? Why the hell was I standing here? Why wasn't I running? Laughing? Crying?
I was just standing. Lips still parted. Confusion off the scale.
I felt like I'd just drowned, but survived the experience. Like I'd been choking on water, struggling, gasping, dying… only to be saved at the last minute. Pulled out of the water. Of the fear. And then I'd been giddy, so full with life, to carelessly grasp it as if I could control it. I'd asked him to kiss me. Kiss me.
I'd carelessly tripped over the invisible line.
And Edward looked just as confused and shocked as I felt.
***
We didn't speak much after that.
To say I felt idiotic, well, that would be akin to saying the Volturi merely had slightly naughty tendencies. In other words: one of the biggest understatements of the year.
"Sorry," I'd said after a long silence - it had been hard to get the apology out, my throat felt thick; like something was clenching my neck and slowly choking me.
Edward hadn't replied verbally; he'd just nodded his head in a curt, jerky sort of motion - his face settling back into an unreadable mask, one I both hated and feared at the same time. Now though, I couldn't tell what his expression portrayed; he wouldn't look at me. Gaze fixed out of the window, stiller and quieter than the trees bathed in the rising sunlight outside. It looked as if he was forcing himself to stay as far from me as possible; he'd been standing completely rigid by his window ever since. I tried to see what he could; wondering what was possibly so engaging outside to keep his stare fixed. I couldn't find anything particularly interesting though. All I saw was the sky outside, just beginning to lighten again; faint rays of light peaked over the horizon. It was dark enough though, shadows were dominant.
I looked back to him: his posture was all wrong; tense and awkward at the same time, I'd never seen him act like this before. It unnerved me.
A thought came to me, why did Carlisle send me to sleep? And abruptly - as soon as I thought it - the events of last night all came rushing back. Esme. My mother. The Volturi-
I let out a small, "Oh," And sank back onto the bed. Edward gave no indication of hearing me, but to be honest, by now I didn't really care. My head felt like it was throbbing as I mulled over what Esme's past must mean. There was so much to take in I felt like my head would burst, I pressed the heals of my hands to my eyes until red obscured my vision, desperate to just think…
Parts of it - I thought rationally - I already knew; the meeting with Carlisle, for example, and how the death of her first child led Esme to suicide. But then everything else seemed too confusing to figure out. Answers were completely absent from my head, every time I thought I might understand something - another part of Esme's past would contradict it. Like the fact that my mum's coincidental appearance could have been just that: a coincidence. That was instantly parried by the thought of how she's appeared more than once. Not exactly the most coincidental thing to happen…
The facts seemed to be splayed before me, only my mind couldn't string them together. The answer was there, at the tip of my finger tips-
"Ugh!" I wrenched my hands from my face in annoyance, my sight was blurred slightly, so that the light from outside seemed to smear like paint on a dark canvas. The dull throbbing of my head had increased significantly. My frustration bubbled up, and again I felt like kicking something. I couldn't work it out! Stupid, stupid cryptic information! It never led me anywhere, I just kept going round in circles from one mystery to the next, never getting any answers…
But a critical question interrupted my thought pattern:
Did Carlisle not want me to remember what I'd seen?
Suddenly, Edward spoke, seemingly oblivious to the questions still buzzing in my thoughts.
"Have you had any dreams about her?"
I frowned at him, wondering who he was talking about. Until it hit. A slow second too late.
"Oh," I say quietly. "Bella."
Of course Bella. Why are you so surprised? In fact, why didn't you think of her when you asked him to kiss you? He loves her. He'll always love her. He'll think of her no matter what. But as soon as I think this I feel guilty. Embarrassed even. It was like I was experiencing petty jealously or something. My mind flitted back from my dream - to why I woke up screaming-
But I can't remember why…
"I…" My confusion sounds fake, "I… I don't… know." Crud. He was staring at me, trying to figure out if I was lying. I wasn't. I genuinely couldn't remember a thing. He gave an almost inaudible sigh, but I hear it, and I can detect what underlines it: disappointment.
Edward ran his hands through his hair again, his voice deeper than before, quieter. I held my place; my feet firmly planted a few paces from his bed. "You don't understand," Oh, don't I? "She… she could be dead."
"Then go," I said quietly. "Go find her."
"I can't." I stared at him, torn between disbelief and anger. I have no idea where it's coming from, or why I'm suddenly so cross at him - but suddenly something about him irritates me. The way he was always giving me mixed messages, the volatile moods from happy to sad. All of it. Irritating.
"Yes you can," I said, enunciating the words slowly. "It's easy. You run, you catch a plane, you fly to Volterra - kick the Volturi violently enough so that they rendered pretty incapable of anything, save Bella, and-"
"I can't," He repeated, but I could hear the frustration in his voice now, "because I have to protect you."
"Protect me?"
"Yes, protect you."
"There are plenty of others who can do that," I snapped. "Honestly, I'm not going to combust right now, Edward. And besides: Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Rosalie" - I ticked them furiously off as I went - "I think that's plenty, don't you?"
By his expression, I appeared to have said the wrong thing.
"No," And this time, the lowness of his tone was different. "No Lucie. I don't think that's plenty. Especially since three of the people you just mentioned are currently flying to Italy," He walked closer to me and as he did so, the air seems to freeze up - I was suddenly cold. "As. We. Speak."
I couldn't help what I said next, really, I couldn't. Bitter words, ones that concealed the pain I was feeling. And bitter words designed for one purpose: to provoke him.
"Why don't you go join them then?"
At first, he didn't answer. He looked at me, topaz eyes utterly incredulous, rage flashing across them. Then he seemed to stop breathing, both fists clenched. He walked backwards, turning away from me - until, at the last minute he whipped around, his control seeming to snap, speaking so quickly it was hard to catch.
"Because Lucie, if you haven't already noticed - you're exceedingly prone to danger when the Volturi are concerned. I'm not about to leave Esme here, by herself to protect you. Especially since she's shaken up already because of what happened earlier, because of what you saw."
I exhale very quietly; his words are like a knife to my chest. He knew I couldn't help that. Did he think I wanted to experience Esme's past? Did he think I enjoyed it?
"Look, I didn't try to make that happen, you know I can't control any of it-"
"Lucie, you wanted an answer, and you're getting one. Shut. Up."
With him leaning this close to me, fuming - looking ready to punch me, and towering over me, there really wasn't much else I could do. I was still scowling at him, unwilling to let him see how much his words hurt. Don't be a pathetic coward, my mind scolded; I shifted uneasily.
If anything, the air in the room had got even colder.
"I stopped looking for Bella, to find you. And why? Because Alice had a vision of you being captured by one of the Volturi guard - do not ask as to exactly whom Aro's sent, because I haven't got the slightest idea, it's been irritating me the entire time you've been sleep - so, bearing in mind that I was fighting Victoria, and oh, only about half a dozen of her new born minions, I was forced to make a split decision as to who to save. You or Bella. And guess what: I chose you. Why? Well now I don't know, seeing as you feel so confident about being utterly fine." He was openly glaring at me now, "But seeing as Alice was being her agitated (and exceptionally shrill) self, and I imagine Jacob wants to show up to get Bella as the hero - I came back, found you, planned on peacefully waiting until whoever Aro sent and then killing him, and leaving to do exactly as you just said, bar the violent kicking. But no, instead you woke up - quite how with the amount of Ambien you had, I don't know - I haven't got to unleash any pent up energy from not getting to kill Victoria, and well, we're here, having an argument."
He said that all very fast.
"It's not an argument," I mumbled, "it's just a heated discussion."
He didn't seem to find that very amusing.
"Don't you get it?" He whispered, his eyes looking like they were searching for something in mine. And they were so complex, so filled with intensity, my internal mutterings stopped for a second. I look back at him, trying to understand.
But I couldn't. I had no idea what he was going on about.
"Get what?" I said back, my voice even quieter than his.
But he looked away. Unable to find whatever he was searching for.
"You really don't get it do you?" I heard him say quietly, but I couldn't see his expression. "You actually haven't figured it out…" He let out a sharp laugh, though it was completely devoid of its usual warmth. No happiness. Just disbelief. "It doesn't matter anyway." I could feel myself getting cross again. What was he going on about?!
But he just walked away. Skulked to the other side of the room.
"Yeah, you do that." I mutter in an undertone, a sarcastic edge to my voice. "Don't answer my questions or anything… no. That won't make anything make more sense."
What happened next, was something that isn't easily explained.
He went very still after I'd said that. Literally, it was like he just froze. And then he turned very quickly, but to me it felt like he as turning slowly - and then, it was almost like, I saw him just… snap.
The next thing I know? He's up right up to my face, shouting at me.
"Do you even want to live? Why do you keep doing this? Is it to hurt yourself, to hurt me? Or is it just that you're too wrapped up in your own troubles to realise that others have them too?"
He'd said the words so vehemently, so bluntly, it was as if I'd been slapped awake.
But it wasn't his tone that upset me, not his anger, no - it was the fact that he was right that caused my sharp intake of breath. It was the truth that made me stumble backwards.
His glare faltered for a second when I winced at my stumble, hitting my newly repaired arm against the bookcase - his fury ceasing as he saw my ashen face, eyes darting down to my trembling fingers. He was worried I would break. "Oh God, I didn't - I wasn't-"
"No," I cut across him. Moving backwards - fighting the urge to just run in regret and shame. I could see his was worried under his fury - and that made me feel sick. Sick that I was considered so fragile, so breakable. Disgusted at how part of me was hurt over his words. Wounded over my own pathetic actions.
And just as breakable as he thought.
"You're right." I said, still quietly meaning to turn then, to just leave it, walk away for once and not make a fool of myself.
But that wasn't who I was.
Abruptly, the words I'd been suppressing sprang from my lips before I could hold them back. They were just as blunt as his, yet harsh instead of vehement. Underlying covert passion seeping through the lines I spoke. Plainer and clearer than ever before.
"You're right Edward, and you've been so all along. I'm too wrapped up in it all, aren't I? I'm too wrapped up in my trivial misfortunes to care about others. After all, I'm not that unlucky, am I? So my father could be dead…" My voice was getting higher, I tried to make a disinterested sound, "Pssh, big deal eh? After all, it's not as if losing another parent's going to be difficult. Seeing as I've already coped with my mother's happy demise, no - it'll be great. I'll be an orphan. We can have party. They'll be a cake. Alice can choose the decorations."
I was rambling now, and I knew it. But I kept on talking, so loud now I was close to shouting. Edward's expression hadn't changed, he was as still as a statue. Only his eyes flickered in emotion, the rest paralysed still - I didn't look too deeply at him, determined to unleash everything.
"So yeah. I deluded myself into thinking that I was the centre of the universe. I acted immaturely, like a child-"
"Look, you know I didn't mean that-"
"Oh, but I think you did." I spat out darkly, "I think it's probably the most truthful thing you've said to me too. You're right. I was childish wanting my father safe. Childish with how I sought to find him, childish in how I continually hated the fact that I was being cooped up here unable to do anything. Rendered to annoying your family, pillaging Esme's past to find that she, in fact, knew my mother." My voice was higher still, a hysterical tinge to it.
"Who would have thought it, huh? My mother, alive when Esme was just 22. Impossible? Apparently not." Edward looked ready to interrupt, so I spoke faster - refusing to give up. "Do you know what I did then? I acted even more selfishly, I blacked out from the experience. Leaving you to scamper back from saving someone far more worthy than I could ever be. Blacked out because of how damn weak I am. Blacked out because of what I saw. Because I'm a freak."
"You're not a-"
"I am." I said, my voice hoarse from shouting, "I've always been an outcast Edward - that much will never change. I'm not normal - you said it yourself. And I won't ever be. I can't be. But I hate myself how I've acted, for everything. So no, I don't want to live. And yeah, it's partially to hurt myself. After all, what I've been through is pathetic anyway - a little more won't make any difference, will it?"
He didn't answer, realising, at last, that I needed to say this, and that if I didn't - nothing could ever be resolved.
"I wish I was dead. No, scratch that: I wish I'd never been born. I wish that, because then I wouldn't have met you. I wish I hadn't met you because then I wouldn't have been sucked into all of this. I wish I hadn't been sucked into all of this because it's going to end up in me, or worse, someone else - getting hurt." I strode back to him, unashamed when I felt the sensation of angry tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't try to wipe them away. I'd been crying a lot this evening. It didn't matter anymore. Crying was for the weak - and that's the only role I'd managed to adopt. I didn't care that I sounded like an idiot. I didn't care that I was crying. I didn't care that he would probably hate me after all of this…
But I did care that when I looked into his eyes, my entire resolve wanted to shatter to pieces. And I hated that. I hated how, no matter how much I tried to run from it, I always ended up here. Always ended up being stuck with him, my emotions and heart contradicting almost every word that had left my lips so far.
"But do you know what I wish most of all?" I whispered to him, my voice breaking slightly, holding his topaz gaze with my emerald one, "I wish you hadn't acted they way you did. I wish you hadn't saved me all those times, I wish you hadn't had to been so caring when I'd been distressed. I wish you hadn't connected the way you did with me. I wish you hadn't been there to catch me whenever I fell."
"And I wish that," I said quietly - only a few inches away so he could hear, "because if you hadn't had done those things, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't be here; fighting against every single restraint I have, arguing with all my thoughts, battling with stupid flipping confusing emotions.
"I wish hadn't fallen in love with you. Because that's what hurts the most. It always has, it always does, and it always will."
And then I meant to turn, I really did. I meant to run from the room, I'd just let all of my defences down - there was no going back.
But I couldn't. I stood there at the door, white and scared, my fingertips trembling - my sentence seeming to echo in the silence between us. I felt Edward look at me; heard the tentative footsteps across the floor. And then, quite abruptly he let out a frustrated sigh.
I snapped my gaze back to him. He hadn't stopped his staring.
"Do you know what I wish Lucie?" He said quietly. "I wish, right now - in your hell-bent fiery anger; your eyes greener than ever; and close to looking like you want to punch me senseless - that you weren't so breathtakingly beautiful…" He'd said that all in one breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
"Why-" I was surprised I could talk, to be honest, "Why do you wish… that?" I trailed off quickly unprepared with this. Anger I could deal with; silence I could live through. But this? I hated the unexpected.
"Because," He said simply, "it's becoming increasingly difficult not to just give up and kiss you."
Well crud, how the hell did one reply to that?!
"You can't give up."
"And why's that?"
Lucie, please enlighten me as to why you are questioning his previous statement. Or are you, as previously mentioned by a few people including yourself on various occasions, going utterly mad?
I bit down on my lip, knowing the notion would probably drive him insane with questions as to what my thoughts were; incredibly glad again, that he couldn't read my mind. He didn't need to known my crazy little voice was back. At least elephants weren't cropping up all over the place.
Well crud, they just did.
My voice was shakier than before - it was hard to think logically, let alone talk properly.
Bloody elephants.
"Because…" I was still talking, still rambling, postponing…but I looked at him. Properly. Not looking away again, just looking at him. Seeing him. I could feel my hands, still balled into fists at my sides, and in that instant - I knew what I wanted. More than anything. My voice came back, but it was much quieter, just a breath really. I exhaled in a very soft sigh.
"Because giving up makes it all artificial. Giving up makes it not real."
He crossed the space between us in a heartbeat, cupping my face in his hands, instantly shooting shocks across my skin. Ridding absolutely everything, apart from him, from my confused head. His eyes, smouldering pools of dark gold, now completely serious.
"With you, nothing's been more real." He whispered thickly, raw emotion in his voice.
And then, quite suddenly - like the spark to a flame, I was alit, forming the raging inferno. I barely heard his next words, garbled strings of thought kept reminding me just how close we were standing. But I lip read his words, my breath caught in my throat.
"So I give up."
His eyes burned brightly, and I felt heat burn in my face. I could barely think for the blood pounding in my ears, for my racing heartbeat, for his intoxicating scent. For the desire to stand on my toes and just-
…Oh, what the hell…
And suddenly, without restraint, without hesitance, without care:
I was kissing him.
***
I do believe, my dear readers, that this classifies as romance.
Any cheers? Groans? Boos…?
I'll await in silence :p
Well actually. No. I won't. I can't help it - I'm going to babble. Anyone who tries to stop me will get trampled. (By the bodyguard Nelephants, naturally :p)
Firstly, please, please keep in mind that when Lucie says the line 'Kiss me.' She is not - I repeat: NOT - doing the erm…unusual… eyebrow thing that Kristen Stewart does in the New Moon movie. Apart from anything else, I think if Lucie had managed to successfully do that, thoughts of kissing Edward would have flown straight from her mind and she would have started to run around in triumph, yelling things like: "I can do it! I can DO IT! Ha! Take that, vampire!" :p Well, that's my speculation anyway.
About the drug Carlisle gave her: Ambien - see, I did a bit of research on it, and it does send you to sleep, and also causes really complex weird dreams, but the bit about not remembering them when someone wakes up? Not true. It's just needed here; else Lucie would have been in a panic… and might have thought about Bella's warning more… :S
Whew though, that was a LONG chapter, huh? Worth the wait? (alright, I'll admit the wait was pretty long too…) Yes or No? Yay or Nay? Seal ("SEAL!" … heh, none of you will get that :p) of approval from readers?
Oh, and I was thinking… you know when Edward was watching her sleep, well it made me think: I bet I look pretty darn gormless when I sleep. Not that I have a fictional vampire obsessively watching me anyway - but still, I reckon I'd look pretty darn frightful. I put this theory into practice actually, I fell asleep on the sofa the other day (too much work coupled with jetlag = utter exhaustion) and when my dad woke me up, I asked: "Do I look all peaceful and relaxed when I'm sleeping?" And he replied with this:
"No. You had your mouth agape and kept muttering. I didn't catch what. Something about otters…" yes. I sleep talk a lot, sleep walk too - last time I slept walked I was lying at the kitchen door. I reckon my subconscious must have felt hungry, and was searching for biscuits. So yeah. I look gormless. And muttered about small, furry mammals. Lovely.
Oh, and I have a question to you all! I'd be thrilled if anyone could give any suggestions or answers. Okay, recently, I seem to be getting one heck of a lot of electric shocks… and I have absolutely no idea as to why. I asked my English supply teacher (my English teacher was ill, everyone was very pleased) and she started sprouting out all this stuff about me having 'Static in my veins' and she did too, and that was why she was awful with technology…
And… erm, convincing though her argument was, I decided to look for other answers. Anyone know? Or am I just odd? (And no, before you all ask: I have not been grasping electric fences. I did that once when spying on some pheasants when I was little in a field. Not the most pleasant of experiences. I ended up yelling in shock at the massive: "BANG!" That went off in my head, and consequently sent all the pheasants off running - ruining my spy work. *Heh, yeah - cool child I undoubtedly, was… not. Some people played with their friends, boys played with toys cars, girls had Barbies, perhaps a few board games with siblings. Me? I spied on pheasants.*
And yes. I'm quite aware after reading that, not many people will continue to read this story. :S Sorry if I scared you all off.
But I won't say much else; I've babbled on long enough. Most of you have probably stopped reading now anyway.
***
Coming Soon Next Chapter…
Something was wrong, Edward had frozen and so had I, his grip around me tightened, so much so that it started to hurt. But I didn't dare yell out, and my lungs seemed bereft of air. A sudden dark coldness seemed to swallow me, making my palms sweat and heart race. I started to feel sick, Edward's grip slackened, and a raspy chuckle was whispered from behind us sending multiple shivers up my spine - completely stopping my already sparse breath.
"Oh, how touching..."
***
DUN DUN DUN! (Ah, how I've missed saying that… :p)
Come on… you want next chapter, don't you? How about you, I don't know, REVIEW ;) I'm sure that'll speed up the process.
Lily - who should really be doing something useful. Like finishing her Artwork. Or doing her Biology project. Instead, she's having far too much fun babbling, and writing in 3rd person about herself as usual. She feels very cool when she does it. She would love it if you reviewed this chapter, didn't hate her for not updating in so long, and would be thrilled if you'd check out Betwixt and Between too. Oh, she'd also like to say that Mouse is alive and well - if a little large from over-feeding by her neighbour - and wishes you all have a great week. And yes. She can indeed converse with Mouse. She's very talented like that :p