~Until Your Heart Stops Beating~
-Edward's POV-
I pull into to the Bromley Marks Estates: Gate 4 and head down to the end of the street. It was still dark out and it seemed as though no one in the neighborhood was home yet. However, there were lights on everywhere you turned. Every house looked exactly the same; same design, same coloring, same everything down to the last brick.
Rosaline had passed out again, mumbling about this and that; having something to tell me, wanting to run a stake through Bromley's heart, and a man named Joshua. I had never heard her mention a Joshua before. Not in any of the conversations we had had, but hearing the way her tone was every time she said his name made me grit my teeth.
I pull the car into the garage as the warning for daylight comes through the neighborhood's speakers. I turn off the engine and unlock the doors, leaning back in my seat for a moment. I close my eyes and sigh heavily, enjoying the silence. It had certainly been a long day for me. The paper work, the preparations, the testing, and the rescue had taken a lot out of me.
I look over at Rosaline and click my teeth together. I was a little bothered that Bromley had her at the testing. There was no need for her to be there or for her to see what had happened. But Bromley obviously anticipated the outcome of Private Jenkins and wanted an audience for the spectacle that still had the capacity for fear.
I reach a hand out to her and brush back a few strands of her hair. It was warm and it seemed to glitter as I let it fall from my fingers. It reminded me of the sun; warm, bright, inviting... I place a cool hand on her shoulder, feeling it hot from the fever, and shake her gently, calling out to her.
"Where are we?" Rosaline asks as she opens her eyes; dark blue pools that look like a starry night. She looks around the dark garage and then rolls her head to look at me.
"This is my house." I reply and look her over. Her head was purplish around the bump and it looked like she might have gotten scratched by something above her eyebrow, but the blood had dried. I scold myself for being so reckless with her. Perhaps the only human in this side of the world with such a rare blood type and I almost get her killed in a car accident.
"Why am I here?" I see her sit up and open her door, her movement slow and forced. The drug must still be in her system. I watch her as she drags her legs out of the car and leans on her knees, taking a deep breath.
"Wait there. I'll come around and get you." I open my door and grab my briefcase from the back before stepping out of the car. I close my door and walk around to the other side. I help her stand and close her door, coming back to her to wrap an arm around her waist for support.
"What's wrong with me?" Rosaline asks as we walk into the house. I take off my hat and hang it up, pulling out a cigarette from my pocket. She leans her side against the wall and looks over at me.
"I'm not exactly sure, but I know it's some sort of drug that Bromley gave you." I reply and pull a cigarette out with my mouth from the box. I wait for her to walk past me before lighting up and then follow her into my kitchen. I flip on the lights and the TV goes on to the last station I was watching, the news blaring.
She leans against the island in the middle of the kitchen as I stare down at the mess I had on it. I set my briefcase down on the counter behind me and take a deep breath. I sigh and pull the cigarette out of my mouth. I look over at her and see her swaying from side to side, unable to keep her balance. I take a drag of my cigarette and watch her as her eyes come to rest on me.
"May I sit?" She asks as I release the smoke from my body. I nod my head, surprised that she thought she had to ask and more so that I hadn't even offered. I was usually on top of things like that.
"Yeah of course. Sit down anywhere." I reply and run a hand through my hair as my eyes dart around my kitchen. I think of what to say next. "Are you... are you hungry?"
"No, but may I have a glass of water?" She asks and moves over to the kitchen table. She takes a seat and folds her arms on the glass tabletop, laying her head on them. I quickly get her a glass of tap water and set it down before her. She opens her eyes and smiles up at me, lifting her head to take a long gulp. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." I walk back to the fridge and open it, pulling out some leftovers for myself. I walk back to the table with a spoon and sit down in a seat next to her, beginning to eat.
"So, you do eat. Just not humans." She comments, watching me carefully as I ate. It hadn't occurred to me not to eat in front of her. I set my spoon down and look up from the dark red colored liquid us vampires called soup.
"I can put it away if..." I cut myself short, being unable to think of how to word what she must be feeling; disgusted, fearful, repulsed, all these seemed fine, but wouldn't do. She shakes her head and takes a sip of her water.
"Nah. It looks like tomato soup to me." She leans closer to take a sniff of it. She retracts quickly, "but it smells kind of like road kill or something. What's in it?"
"It basically is road kill. There's pig and cow. Some horse too, I think." I reply and take another spoon full. She nods her head and makes an agreeable face, taking up her glass again.
A few minutes pass in silence, apart from the TV. I finish eating my 'soup' and stand from the table, walking to the sink to set my bowl down. I look back over at Rosaline, wanting to say something to her, but I couldn't think of anything. So, I resorted to watching her as she looked around my house from her seat. She paid special attention to the pictures I had on the walls, smiling at some of them, even letting a small laugh escape her.
"You have a really nice home. A little dark for me though. Needs a bit of natural light." She looks back at me and smiles brightly, setting her glass down on the table. I nod my head with a laugh, agreeing with her and look around myself. She was right. It was pretty dark, but unfortunately, I couldn't have anything brighter.
I see her start to play with the beads on the dress she wore, plucking at them as if trying to get them off. I run my tongue over my fangs unconsciously and then look towards the living room.
"That looks really nice on you." I speak up and stand from the table, heading into the kitchen again. She looks up from the beads and over at me, smiling sarcastically.
"Thank you. It was a gift from Charles Bromley." She nearly growls out Bromley's name as if she were one of us, making me laugh. I run a hand over my mouth and then shove my hands into my pants pockets.
"Everything might be a little big, but would you want to borrow some clothes?" I ask, trying to think of what I possibly had that would even come close to fitting her.
"Yes please." She replies with a small laugh. I nod my head and then motion towards the stairs passed the living room.
"Come on." I walk passed her and through the living room. She follows behind, still not quite steady on her feet. I stop at the bottom of the stairs and watch her stumble. "You alright?"
"Just a little dizzy." She replies and follows me up the stairs. We walk into my bedroom and I go straight to my drawers, searching for a shirt she could wear. She stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame and examining my room.
"Is this alright?" I pull out a dark blue t-shirt and hold it up for her to see. "If not, I have some other things. Not a lot of female wear though."
"Blue; my favorite color." She steps inside the room and takes the shirt from me. She kicks off her shoes by the end of my bed and slips the shirt over the top of the dress, sliding the straps off her shoulders beneath it. I watch entranced by her movement. As the dress slips from her shoulders, down her abdomen beneath the shirt, I snap out of it.
"Pants..." I talk to myself and move to another drawer. I find a pair of black lounge pants and hand them to her. She pulls them on under the skirt of her dress and then goes to pull the dress down. I shove my hands into my pockets and watch her, seeing she was having trouble, "Want some help?"
"Please." She says through an exasperated laugh. She moves closer to me and turns around so her back was facing me. I slip my hands up the back of the shirt, feeling for the top of the dress. She gives a small laugh. "Just rip the S.O.B."
As I was told, I rip the dress down to her lower back and my fingers graze her skin for a brief moment. A spark of electricity seeming to surge through them and me; lust. That's what it was; angst, lust, desire.
I take my hands out from under the shirt as quick as I can and take a step back to give her some room. She lets the dress fall to the floor in a heap of pink and then steps out of it. She picks it up from the floor and rolls it into a ball, smiling up at me. My clothes were big on her, but they looked comfortable enough. Cute even. They would work until I could get something else for her.
"Thank you." She moves a hand to her back and scratches a moment. She looks up at me and yawns. "Now what? Pillow fight?"
I laugh genuinely. She amazes me at every turn. She is in my home, a vampire's home, having come from the Abyss and Bromley Marks with all their tormenting. Yet, she was joking and smiling.
"If you want, you can lie down. I've got a couple of things to do around here." I answer and scratch the side of my head. Rosaline's eyes widen a little and I look to where her eyes had drifted to. I look at my arm and see the blood stain from the arrow on my shirt sleeve.
"Oh your arm." She takes my arm and rolls up my sleeve. She runs her fingers over the spot where the arrow had once been, but was no more. I see her face turn from worry to sarcastic irritation. She drums her fingers on my arm and looks up at me. "I keep forgetting. You're a vampire. You heal quicker than the rest of us. Jerk."
She rolls my sleeve back down and lets my arm go. She runs a hand through her hair and then brushes it over one shoulder.
"Is there a possibility that I could take a shower?" She asks and then laughs, shaking her head at herself. "Now that I'm in your clean clothes?"
I nod my head and head towards the bathroom. I turn everything on for her and pull out a towel, setting it on the counter. She walks to the bathroom door and leans against the frame.
"Hope you like Irish Springs." I say as I hand her an unopened bar of soap. Our fingers touch and I feel that same spark.
"They still make Irish Springs?" She gives a small laugh and walks into the bathroom. I walk out and turn back for a moment.
"I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Feel free to use the bed and the TV."
"Okay." She smiles and opens the bar of soap, but stops, "Edward?"
"Yeah?" I turn back again and look at her, thinking I had forgotten something. She sets the soap on the counter and moves closer wrapping her arms around my neck. I freeze, not knowing what I should do. Her arms tighten and slowly, I wrap my arms around her. I breathe in her scent, listening to the sound of her heart beating in her chest.
"Thank you for rescuing me." She whispers in my ear. Her breathe was hot and moist. It made me nervous. She pulls back, kissing my cheek. I nod my head and close the bathroom door, walking to the door of my bedroom.
I stop for a moment and then head back to the bathroom door with a question burning in my mind. I knock a few times and hear her singing to herself, realizing she couldn't hear me. I open the door slightly and peek inside. I see her figure in the shower behind the frosted glass of the doors in the reflection of the mirror over the sink.
For a moment, I'm stricken as though a magic spell has been placed on me. I am caught up in watching her shadow and listening to her sweet voice. I shake myself free from my trance and clear my throat.
"Rosaline?" I call to her, leaning my head on the doorframe.
"Come on in." She calls back, turning her singing into humming instead. I take a deep breath and gently knock my head against the doorframe once.
Don't tempt me – I curse internally before walking into the warm, steamed bathroom. I didn't usually ask about other people's personal lives. It just wasn't like me, but this girl intrigued me so much that I just had to know everything I could about her.
"Can I ask you something?" I start, trying to build enough courage to ask my question. I stand at the counter, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
"Of course." She gives a small laugh. "After everything you've done for me. How can I refuse? Especially, after the gift of Irish Springs."
"Who's Joshua?" I blurt the question out and hear the bathroom go silent apart from the water running in the shower. I look up from the counter and see that she had frozen mid-stroke of washing her hair. Slowly, her arms fall from her hair and I see her look down at the ground. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't of. It's none of my business."
"He's family." Rosaline's broken voice stops me from walking out the bathroom door. I look to her visage in the mirror again. "My brother actually."
"You're brother…" I repeat to myself softly and watch her carefully, "Is he older or younger?"
"Older by six years." She replies. I see her sit on the ground of the shower and lean her back against the glass, pulling her knees to her chest.
"Is he human?" I ask slowly, turning around from the counter to look directly at the shower doors. She shakes her head.
"He's nothing anymore." I knew what her answer meant. He was dead so it didn't matter whether or he was human or vampire. She turns her head, hair pressing against the glass. "Before he died he was a vampire… You remind me of him."
"How so?" I ask, becoming more intrigued. I lean back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest.
"He wouldn't drink human blood either. I tried to get him to, but he refused over and over again." She replies with a small laugh, "He said that it wasn't right. That he felt if he drank human blood it would mean he was giving in to something that would steal his humanity. Back then no one knew about the effects of blood deprivation."
"Why did you try to make him drink it? You're a human." I ask not understanding why a human would try and make a vampire drink human blood. She falls silent again and I can hear her sigh. She shakes her head and leans it against the glass.
"I tried to get him to drink it because he was my brother. There was plenty of human blood and I was afraid of what would happen if he didn't." She pauses and hits her head against the glass a few times. "I couldn't help but question what would happen. Would he starve? Would he go crazy from not having any? I was more worried about him hurting himself or someone else then him drinking a little bit of human blood every once in a while."
"But he wouldn't."
"Nope, not even my blood. I think he was more against that idea than any other because he thought that he would get hooked and end up killing me." I hear her click her teeth, a sign that there was more going on inside of her head. "He did good for a while. Lived off of cows and pigs, but then he started to change. He got this temper. He didn't really care about anything he used to. He got these dark circles under his eyes and his ears became pointed."
Instinctively I touch one of my ears, feeling the points. I let my hand drop and cross my arms over my chest again.
"One night, he came home real nasty. He was so angry about nothing. I remember I was in the kitchen making myself dinner and he walked in, snarling about every little thing in the world. He slammed a door shut and I accidentally cut my fingers." I could see her behind the glass looking at a scar on her fingers of her left hand.
"What did he do…?" I ask, finding myself engrossed in her story.
"He came back out of the room slowly, kind of gliding across the floor in a creepy way. He stood at the opposite side of the kitchen and just stared at my hand, at my blood, and then suddenly lunged at me." She falls silent again and runs a hand through her wet hair, sighing heavily. "I ran. He chased. Then I fell down a flight of stairs and broke my ankle and dislocated my left shoulder. When he saw how scared I was and realized what he was trying to do, he went crazy. He doused himself with lighter fluid and set himself on fire right in front of me."
The bathroom falls silent again. I didn't know what to say to her. What could I say to her? Sorry? What would that do? It certainly wasn't going to bring him back. It certainly wasn't going to make up for forcing her to relive a painful past.
"You know, when he first turned he disappeared for years on end. I was only thirteen or fourteen then. I barely remember it. My parents were so afraid of him and he was always so worried he was going to hurt someone he loved all the time. So, he tried to stay away, thinking it was for the best." She starts softly and turns her head to the side as if to look at me behind the frosted glass. "When I was seventeen my parents died, killed by a vampire. I went out and purposely tried to get bit after that. I thought it would bring him back; that it would solve all our problems. It probably would of, but I then I found out that I couldn't turn."
"I'm s-"
"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault." She stands up from the shower floor and steps into the water again. "It's his..."
"Whose?" I ask, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. I watch her shampoo her hair and then rinse it out. She turns off the water and wrings her hair of excess water. She opens the door a little and outstretches an arm. I look around me and find the towel I had placed out for her. I grab it and hand it to her. We both grip it tightly as though holding each other's hand.
"Charles Bromley." She closes the door again and wraps the towel around her. I lean against the glass, arms crossed over my chest.
"How is it his fault?" I ask as she opens the doors again. She steps out and I feel myself go rigid, the sight of her... intoxicating. Beads of water dripped down from her hair and trailed along the side of her neck. As if that wasn't enough, they then curved and disappeared underneath the towel and between her breasts.
She walks past me and over to the counter where she had placed the clothes I gave her to wear. She pulls on the pants under the towel and then the shirt over it. She undoes the towel and uses it to dry her hair. She folds it and then sets it on the counter.
She stares at herself in the mirror for a long moment and then runs a hand through her hair, trying to rid of any knots. She turns to face me after another moment and leans back against the counter. She takes a deep breath and licks her lips. It was an obvious sign that she didn't want to tell me, but that she felt she needed to.
"Is this what you just had to tell me?" I ask softly, my yes never leaving hers. She matches my gaze and then looks down at the floor.
"I thought I had said that in my head." She mumbles and then runs a hand through her damp hair.
"What is it, Rosaline?" I encourage and fall quiet. She shakes her head as a tear falls from her eyes and rolls down her cheek. Whatever it was, it was bad, "Rosaline..."
~Rosaline's POV~
"Charles Bromley is the vampire that turned my brother and killed my parents." I reply and look up from the ground to meet his gaze once more. I can see the honest curiosity swirling and mixing with the molten gold in his eyes. "He's also the first vampire I..."
He watches me for a moment and then narrows his eyes in question at my silence. I knew that he already had an idea of what I was going to say. That made it worse. I look back down at the floor, my eyes darting right and left, as if trying to think of how to word my next phrase.
"That you what?" He speaks up, seeing that I wasn't about to answer so soon. I close my eyes a moment and then look up at him, ashamed of my past actions.
"He's the first vampire I tried to have change me." I watch Edward, seeing he was struggling with what to say to me. What was there to say? I'm sorry? What in the world would that do? I shake my head. "Don't Edward. Please."
I cut him off before he could say it. I could feel my chest constrict, my emotions getting the better of me. I shake my head and look down at the tiled floor of the bathroom.
"Please, don't say it. Don't be sorry for me." I feel my sorrow turn into anger and then hate. I grit my teeth and clench my jaw, my eyes burning a hole in the floor beneath me. I growl. "It's his entire fault. If he hadn't..."
I run a hand through my hair and pull on each section so hard it felt like I would rip it out. I close my eyes, feeling tears beginning again. I didn't want to cry. Not in front of anyone.
"Rosaline?" Edward calls out to me softly and I can feel his eyes follow my every movement. I turn around and stare down at the counter, playing with a corner of the towel that laid there as my mind drifts away. "Please look at me."
My breathing becomes slow and shallow as I feel my eyes glaze over. I didn't want to talk about the subject anymore with him or with anyone ever again. I shouldn't have in the first place. It was a bad idea.
"Please Rosaline. Don't shut me out now." Edward calls out to me again. I slowly look up at the mirror before me and stare at myself for a long moment. Then I run a hand through my hair, trying to rid of any knots while trying to outwait Edward's curiosity. "Rose please..."
I look to him in the mirror, but only see a suit standing on its own; of course. Vampires didn't have reflections... I chew on my bottom lip and then turn to face him. I lean back against the counter and stare at him long and hard. I didn't want to say anything more to him. He was a vampire. He was a vampire just like Charles Bromley; cold, ruthless, numb.
"Edward," I start and then fall silent. I stare him in the eyes, searching his pools of gold for something. No, he was nothing like Charles Bromley; nothing at all. He had saved me from my Hell and was trying to help. Even now he was trying to help. "Why did you save me?"
"What?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion and slight surprise. He pushes himself from the counter and stares down at me, shaking his head, "What does that have to do w-"
"Just answer me. Please." I cut him off, my gaze never faltering. He closes his mouth, a fang peeking out from under his top lip. His eyes dart back and forth from one of my eyes to the other as if also searching for something within me. Slowly his eyes narrow at me and he shakes his head again slowly. His look made me feel like a child that should have known better, that did know better, and whom he knew already understood his reasons why.
"You asked me to." He replies slowly and then falls quiet. "I had to help you. You needed me to. He was going to stick you in the farm, bleed you dry."
He falls quiet again and continues to stare down at me. After another moment, I nod my head and look down at the ground. I look back at him and cross my arms over my chest. The bathroom falls silent again as he stares at me. I take another deep breath and look away from him. I wipe a tear away from my cheek and sniffle, hoping to compose myself.
"It makes sense now." Edward's words catch my attention. I look up at him and narrow my eyes. He wasn't looking at me anymore. The open bathroom door had become more interesting.
"What?" I ask and sniffle again. He looks down at me and shakes his head a little at his thoughts.
"Now it makes sense why Charles brought you to the Bromley Marks building. He already knew you couldn't change." He finishes his sentence. I nod my head slowly, not really agreeing or disagreeing with his assumption. I had no idea where he was going with it all, "He knew that your blood could possibly be a cure. He knew it and he caught you, not to help everyone, but to keep the world from a cure. Keep the cure away from him. The bastard…!"
"…do you really think so?" I ask softly. The idea hadn't occurred to me. It made sense though. Bromley had a good life going for him. A cure would mean the end of human farming and then end of his fortune.
"Yes." Edward replied and stared at me, his mouth slightly open. The bathroom falls silent again. I look away from him and stare off at the floor. He made me a little uncomfortable. No. Not uncomfortable. He made me nervous.
"Is it okay if I lay down?" I ask softly and look towards the inviting bed in the bedroom. My feet were sore from those shoes Bromley had given me to wear and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Edward stands a little straighter and nods his head. He gestures towards the bedroom and slowly I walk of the bathroom. I climb onto the bed and curl into a ball, holding my knees to my chest. It felt like Heaven. It was soft and squishy. The comforter was a silky black with small designs sown into it. I snuggle my face against it and sigh contently.
"You can get under the covers." Edward speaks up and I can hear the slightly uncomfortable tone in his voice. He walks out of the bathroom and to his dresser.
"I won't invade your space that much." I reply through a yawn. "I don't want to impose."
"You're wearing my clothes. You used my shower. Now you're lying on my bed. I think we're far past invading and imposing." Edward retorts with a small breathy scoff. He picks up a remote from the top of his dresser and walks over to one side of the bed. He kneels down and places it on the bed. "Here's the TV remote if you want to watch something."
He gently pushes it closer to me and I take it, pulling it to my chest. I watch him carefully as he studies me. He lifts a hand and pushes away some of my hair from my forehead. I know exactly what he's looking at; the bump.
"Do you want something for your head?" He asks gently as his cool fingers graze it. I sigh and tell him no. As if he would even have pain killers. He's a vampire. "Not even some ice?"
"I'm no doctor, but I think I'll live." I reply and give him a small, reassuring smile. All I wanted to do was sleep. Just sleep. Edward stares at me for a moment longer and then nods his head once. He stands up and heads towards the door of the bedroom. He stops before it and turns back around.
"If you need anything," He starts and I look over at him with a sleepy smile, "I'll just be down stairs picking up."
I nod my head at him and he turns to leave.
"Edward?" I call out softly. He looks back at me once again with a hand on the door knob, "Will you tell me your story one day?"
Edward didn't reply. He only stared at me for a long moment and then cast his eyes downwards. I could see pain cross his face and that told me everything I needed to come up with an answer myself.
"It was someone close to you, wasn't it?" I ask gently and lean up on one of my elbows. Edward's hand on the door knob tightens and I swear for a moment that he may crush the steel.
"It was my little brother." He responds quietly, but through gritted teeth.
"Why?" I couldn't comprehend why a sibling or any family member for that matter would change someone they loved.
"I don't know. Perhaps he didn't want to be alone." He rationalized, but I could hear the anger in his voice.
"He didn't give you a choice." I suddenly understand why he was so angry with his brother. He was forced to become a vampire. He looks over at me, jaw clenched and face hard, before he leaves in a rush, shutting the door behind him.
I lay my head back down on the bed and stare at the TV remote as I scold myself for ever speaking so freely. I pick it up and push the little red on button. The TV came to life, the voices low, and flashes of bright lights dance across my face. I flip through the stations, staying on none longer than a moment.
I lay there staring at the photo of Charles Bromley in the corner of a news program. The news anchor kept rambling on, but I wasn't listening anymore. I couldn't. Just seeing Bromley made my blood boil. Before whatever end I was going to kill him. This was my promise to my dead family, to me, and to all the other human lives he had destroyed over the years.