Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift
"All I know is a new found grace
All my days, I'll know your face."
XX. Family
Abby was, safe to say, close to having a nervous breakdown. She did not get a wink of rest the night before knowing the next day she'd be meeting her vampire boyfriend's entire vampire family. So, here she was, sitting at her vanity table shakily putting on concealer under her eyes to hide the hideous eye bags she acquired. She kept twisting and turning throughout the night, believing they wouldn't like her for Edward because she wasn't incredible and remarkable like he was...like they all were. She wasn't. She was regular, dare she say - ordinary.
"Stop panicking," Edward's velvety voice spoke suddenly, causing her to nearly fall out of the cushiony stool she sat upon. He was fast, steadying her on the chair immediately before she fell and hurt herself.
She looked at Edward through her mirror and saw his eyes soften at her worried expression. He knew she didn't believe his family would approve of her but it was far from his own worry of her safety. He trusted his family, of course he did, but this was entrusting Abby's protection. A human - regardless of what he felt for her - she was human. The very blood running through her veins was enough reason for him to be full of trepidation. But he'd do everything he could to make her feel safe. He'd do everything he could to protect her from anything that could cause her the slightest harm, including the doubt she was feeling.
His smooth hands were placed on her shoulders, slightly rubbing the tension out of her muscles, and it soothed her immensely. Why was she worrying? She had Edward. She had everything she wanted. She would be fine.
"I'm not panicking," she finally replied, releasing a prolonged sigh. "It's normal to worry about your family liking me or not."
He brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear as she continued to do her makeup, "Yes," he agreed, "under the pretense that they don't already like you. But in your very lucky case, they do."
"First impressions matter, Edward," she moved onto add some blush to her cheeks, even though with Edward touching her the natural flush of her cheeks flooding to her face was more than enough.
He shook his head, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere in her stubborn head. Edward then leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently, and said while backing away, "I'll make you something to eat."
After finishing her makeup, glad her face looked more liven up compared to earlier, she thought of her next obstacle: her outfit. It was hard to decide what to wear. Abby doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when the love of your life was a vampire and he wants to take you home to meet his vampire family. It was cold out, but she needed to make a decent impression, especially since the entire family were literal living models - a sweater dress, perhaps?
Abby had a grey knit sweater dress that didn't stick to her skin and fell halfway down her thighs which she paired with black tights to beat the cold. She nodded approvingly at the outfit in her head, and pulled it out of her closet. Her black ankle booties would tie the outfit together. Her wavy hair was down, all flipped to her left shoulder and she finished her entire look with a quick swipe of nude tinted lip gloss. One quick look in the mirror and she gulped, hoping for the Cullen's approved.
"Okay," she mumbled, walking down the stairs to meet Edward in the kitchen. "I'm decent."
He was waiting at the foot of the stairs, closer than she thought, and she bounded right into him. He steadied her once again, and pulled her closer to him.
"You're wrong," he murmured in her ear. "You are utterly indecent — no one should look so tempting, it's not fair." He pressed his cool lips delicately to her forehead, and the room spun. The smell of his breath made it impossible to think, to even wonder about why exactly Abby was nervous to begin with.
"Shall I explain how you are tempting me?" he said. It was clearly a rhetorical question. His fingers traced slowly down Abby's spine, his breath coming more quickly against her skin. Her hands were limp on his chest, and he tilted his head slowly and touched his cool lips to hers.
She reached her hands up from his chest and tangled her fingers in his hair, at the nape of his neck, feeling the softness of his bronze hair. Edward lodged her upper lip in between his and gave her a proper, albeit slow, kiss. Abby sighed into it and tightened her fingers around his neck, so he leaned closer and deepened the kiss.
It takes what it feels like ages but it's altogether too soon anyway for him to slow down and slowly descent into a lighter kiss that still has her dizzy before he's giving her tiny little pecks. He's pulled away only slightly, just enough that their lips are no longer touching, to continue to press his forehead against hers.
"Are you trying to distract me?" Abby barely whispered. If he wasn't a supernatural entity, he wouldn't have even heard it.
"Did it work?"
She nodded against his own head and peeled herself away, her hands on his neck and his on her waist. She noticed the lip gloss plastered all over his perfect lips and used the pads of her right thumb to wipe away any excess. Abby said, with a gleam from her eyes that would make any being melt, "Thank you. I don't mean to be this nervous...it's...they're your family, Edward. I know they mean so much to you, and I just want them to know how much you mean to me."
His gold eyes grew very soft, "You are my life now, Abigail."
She tucked her head into his shoulder and released a breath, "I guess Jasper's mood control can make me feel slightly better."
Abby felt him chuckle against her head.
After finishing the simple meal Edward managed to conjure up of scrambled eggs and toast, they were on their way to the Cullen house. Jay had plans for the day, fishing she believed. It was a rare sight to see Jay home on the weekends; he'd usually just come home by nighttime. It worked perfectly in Abby's favor, though she did tell Jay she'd be busy with a friend today and not to wait up for her.
Much too soon a comfortably quiet drive was over and they were pulling up to the front pavement of Edward's magnificent home.
"Ready?" Edward asked, putting his car into park.
She gulped, "Not even in the slightest - let's do this." She heard a ghost of his chuckle when he was suddenly standing at her passenger door, opening it up for her.
Instantly, she smoothed out her clothes the moment she stepped out of the car but Edward stopped her, grabbing her hand saying, "You're stunning."
The duo walked through the deep shade up to the porch. He could feel her tension; his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of her hand.
He opened the door for her.
The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. It must have originally been several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high-beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of white.
Waiting to greet them, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edward's parents.
Abby had seen Dr. Cullen before, of course with Jay's little accident, yet she couldn't help but be struck again by his youth, his outrageous perfection. At his side was Esme, she assumed, the only one of the family she'd never seen before. She had the same pale, beautiful features as the rest of them. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, caramel-colored hair, reminded Abby of a mother, of a home. She was small, slender, yet less angular, more rounded than the others. They were both dressed casually, in light colors that matched the inside of the house. They smiled in welcome, and Esme took a step forward.
"Abby, it's so nice to finally meet you," Esme warmly said before wrapping the young girl in a slightly tighter than normal hug. Abby didn't mind. She hugged the beautiful woman as tight as she could, and a sudden memory of her mother's hugs washed through her.
"It's nice to meet you, too," Abby sincerely replied after pulling away from Esme.
Carlisle stepped forward and raised his hand tentatively, saying, "It's good to see you again, Abby."
She grabbed his hand firmly and replied, "You too, Dr. Cullen."
"Please, call me Carlisle,"
Abby smiled at him, "Carlisle,"
"Where are Alice and Jasper?" Edward asked, but no one answered, as they had just appeared at the top of the wide staircase.
"Hey, Edward!" Alice called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and white skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of Abby.
"Hi, Abby!" Alice said, and she bounced forward to kiss my cheek. Abby should've expected it as Alice had kissed her cheek the first time they had met. Throughout the week, Edward had pretty much used lunch time as "date time" because he was so clearly upset about his sister ruining his plans for Saturday. So, she didn't get to see Alice much.
Jasper was there as well — tall and leonine. A feeling of ease spread through Abby, and she was suddenly comfortable despite where she was. Edward stared at Jasper, raising one eyebrow, and Abby remembered what Jasper could do. She couldn't help but send him a look of gratitude in helping her nerves calm.
"Hello, Abby," Jasper said. He kept his distance, not offering to shake her hand. But it was impossible to feel awkward near him.
"Hello, Jasper." She smiled at him shyly, and then at the others. "It's nice to meet you all — you have a very beautiful home," she added.
"Thank you," Esme said, a soft smile gracing her features. "We're so glad that you came. It's so nice to finally meet the young woman who stole our son's heart."
Alice released a quiet giggle, which she covered with her hand and she heard Edward clear his throat uncomfortably. Of course, Abby could only stand there and blush redder than a ripe tomato.
She then realized that Rosalie, Elizabeth, and Emmett were nowhere to be seen, and she remembered Edward's too-innocent denial when she asked him if the others didn't like her.
Carlisle's expression distracted her from her train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Edward with an intense expression. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edward shake his head to signify a denial of something.
Abby looked away, trying to be polite. Instead, her eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. Abby remembered her mother playing when she was younger. Her mom wasn't really good — she only played for herself on their secondhand upright — but Abby and her father loved to watch her play. She was happy, absorbed and Abby's father had savings to buy her a grand piano one day. He never got the chance to.
Esme noticed her preoccupation.
"Do you play?" She asked, inclining her head toward the piano.
Abby shook her head, "No, I can only assume it's Edward's." She looked up at said vampire who nodded at her guess with a small smile upon his face. This was going much better than he had ever imagined. Abby fit in; Esme and Carlisle enjoyed her presence, as did Alice. He hoped the others would come through. "However, he's been too modest with his art when he always see's mine."
"Your art?" Carlisle asked, his eyebrows raised in confusion.
"She's incredible," Edward cut in before Abby had a chance to say anything. "Her paintings should have their very own place in the Louvre."
"He's being kind," Abby smiled at him, the flush on her face clearly permanent, "but I'm mediocre at best."
"I'm sure you're underestimating your talent," Carlisle flashed a smile at her. "I have a few original pieces myself in my office, please, whenever you'd like, do stop by."
"I'd love that,"
"Play for her, Edward," Esme urged, "It's only fair."
"I'd like to hear you play," Abby added.
"It's settled then." Esme pushed him toward the piano. He pulled the girl along, making her sit on the bench beside him.
He gave Abby a long, exasperated look before he turned to the keys. And then his fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. Abby felt her chin drop, her mouth open in astonishment, and heard low chuckles behind her at her reaction.
Edward looked at Abby casually, the music still surging around the two without a break, and winked. "Do you like it?"
"You wrote this?" She grasped.
He nodded. "It's Esme's favorite."
She closed her eyes, shaking her head.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't believe you hid this for so long,"
The music slowed, transforming into something softer, and Abby felt her eyes begin to water at how beautiful the music was.
"You inspired this one," he said softly. The music grew unbearably sweet. He didn't know how to tell her that she had inspired most of his new music as of late.
She couldn't speak. Her heart felt like it had grown in size, and it was simply full of Edward. He wrote a song for her, for her.
"They like you, you know," he said conversationally. "Esme and Carlisle especially."
Abby glanced behind her, but the huge room was empty now.
"Where did they go?"
"Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose."
She sighed. "They like me. But Rosalie, Elizabeth and Emmett…" Abby trailed off, not sure how to express her doubts.
He frowned. "Don't worry about Liz," he said, his eyes wide and persuasive. "She'll come around. She just has a tendency to be wary of anyone."
"Rosalie and Emmett?"
"Well, Emmett thinks I'm a lunatic for involving a human in our lives, it's true, but he doesn't have a problem with you. He's trying to reason with Rosalie."
"What upsets her?"
He sighed deeply. "Rosalie struggles the most with… with what we are. It's hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she's a little jealous."
"Rosalie is jealous of me?" Abby asked incredulously. She tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel envious of someone as regular as Abby.
"You're human." He shrugged. "She wishes that she were, too."
"Oh," Abby muttered, still stunned. "And Jasper?"
"That's really my fault," he said. "I told you he was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned him to keep his distance."
"Was he...hurting? I'm not sure what it'd feel like." Abby wondered. Did her existence harm the new vegetarian? Should she have completely steered clear of the Cullen house?
Edward shook his head, "Not as much as I thought he would. I think he would've been fine to shake your hand. Though it does help that you smell more like me than you."
She suddenly had the urge to take of a whiff of herself but of course, whatever he smelt she couldn't. She just smelt like the expensive perfume her mom bought her for her 16th birthday.
"Why do I smell like you?" Abby's eyebrows furrowed in interest.
He shrugged, "Maybe our bond, maybe because we spend most of our time together - I can't be sure. All I care about is that your safety is ensured."
"Hm," Abby mumbled, before asking, "What was that look between you and Carlisle earlier?"
"Of course you caught that," Edward sighed, knowing it was difficult slipping anything past Abby. "He wanted to tell me some news. But he didn't know if I was sharing it with you or not."
"And you're not," Abby concluded with a slight pout.
Edward smirked at her expression, the puppy dog eyes coming out of her already, and said, "If it was ever a concern for you, I'd tell you. But I will say that there's been some...developments with a community near us."
Abby had no idea what he meant, and she wouldn't even attempt to pry. He'd tell her sooner or later. It wasn't like Edward to keep things from her. She looked away, taking in the spacious room around them.
Following her gaze, Edward wondered, "Not what you expected?"
"I did expect one coffin." She laughed with him before adding, "It's so light, so...open."
He was serious when he answered, "It's the one place we never have to hide."
The song he was still playing, Abby's song, drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.
Taking upon Carlisle's request, Abby and Edward ended up inside of his office. Abby had to hide her awe when she walked in - stunned by the large room. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood — where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above her head and held more books than she's ever seen outside a library.
Abby was transfixed. She'd always seen replica's of: The Lady of Shallot, but never the original. And here she was standing before a painting that was well worth millions of dollars. John Williams Waterhouse was an incredible painter who knew how to pay attention to every little detail, so well that most of paintings were lifelike.
"How..." Abby started, looking to her left to see Edward admiring her the same was she was admiring the artwork, "how did Carlisle come across this?"
"He knew John," Edward easily replied. "Carlisle was always a big fan of the arts, and John was one of his favorites. He donates this work many times but it does always end up in his study."
"He knew John back in the 1800's?" Abby wondered, to which Edward nodded. "How old is Carlisle?"
Edward watched her carefully before he spoke, "Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."
She couldn't help the shock that fell upon her face, and she knew well that he caught it too. After doing the math quickly in her head, Carlisle was nearly 380 years old. The silence stretched as she struggled to comprehend the concept of so many years.
"He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves…and vampires.
"They burned a lot of innocent people — of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch. When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.
"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course" — his brief laugh was darker now — "and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."
His voice was very quiet; Abby strained to catch the words.
"He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle — he was twenty-three and very fast — was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle."
He paused. Abby could sense he was editing something, keeping something from her.
"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned — anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.
"It was over then, and he realized what he had become."
Abby wasn't sure what her face was revealing, but he suddenly broke off.
"I expect you have a few more questions," he had a smirk grazed upon his face.
She bit her bottom lip hesitantly, and murmured, "Maybe just a tad,"
Edward wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her toward the far left side, standing her in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.
"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.
"What happened then?" She finally asked, staring up at Edward, who was watching her. "When he realized what had happened to him?"
He glanced back to the paintings, and she looked to see which image caught his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors — an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.
"When he knew what he had become," Edward said quietly, "he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."
"How?"
"He jumped from great heights," Edward said, his voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean…but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist… feeding…while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."
"Is that possible?" Abby's voice was faint.
"No, and he grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself.
"One night, a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without a thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life? Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again.
"He began to make better use of his time. He'd always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He swam to France and —"
"He swam to France?"
"People swim the Channel all the time, love,"
"That's true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on."
"Swimming is easy for us because, technically, we don't need to breathe."
"You don't need to breathe?!" Abby asked, stunned.
"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." He shrugged.
"How long can you go…without breathing?"
"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable — being without a sense of smell."
"A bit uncomfortable," she echoed.
Something in Abby's expression made him grow somber. He stood very still, his eyes intent on her face. The silence lengthened. His features were immobile as stone.
"What is it?" She whispered, cupping his frozen face.
His face softened under her hand, and he sighed. "I keep waiting for it to happen again."
"For what to happen?"
"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me...again." He smiled half a smile, but his eyes were serious. "I won't stop you. I want it to happen, because I want you to be safe. But the tether we have, I can't stay away from you…" He trailed off, staring at her face.
She cupped his face with both of her hands now, "You know it as well as I, pretty boy, I can't stay away from you even if I tried."
Edward smiled at her, kissed her palm and held her hand as he continued the story, "Carlisle swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine — and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives."
His golden eyes flickered to another picture — the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies.
"I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital…" Edward stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose.
He tapped his finger against the huge painting.
"He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers."
He touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. Abby examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that she recognized the golden-haired man.
"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods," Edward chuckled.
"Francesco Solimena?!" She couldn't believe it. Another incredible artist Carlisle just happened to know during the Baroque era.
"The very one." He replied. "Aro, Marcus, Caius," he said, indicating the other three, two black-haired, one snowy-white.
"Nighttime patrons of the arts. They're still there in Italy." He shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it.
"They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.
"He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity.
"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act — since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try…"
His voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly through the west windows. Abby wondered which images filled his mind now, Carlisle's memories or his own.
When he turned back to her, a gentle angel's smile lit his expression.
"And so we've come full circle," he concluded. Hand in hand they walked out of Carlisle's office and into the hall.
"So you've always been with Carlisle?"
He seemed reluctant to answer, but after a few beats he replied through tense lips, "About ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So, I went off on my own for a time."
Abby froze. She's seen him almost murder two men for touching her. She didn't realize he had actually murdered people. Was it wrong? He needed to have sustenance right? But he had animals just as Carlisle did. No, Edward wouldn't have just gone on some random kill spree.
"Before you assume the worst of me," Edward whispered, feeling her shock through the hand he held, "I knew the thoughts of my prey; I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl — if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."
"You only...hunted," she gulped the word out, "those who were criminals?"
"Worse than simple criminals - rapists, murderers, the one's who only wish harm to those around them. And have committed such heinous crimes before I..."
"I understand," and she did. She understood why he felt the need to rebel. Most in his place would have gone off the rails and simply hunted people - everyone, without a second thought. He was killing those who wanted to rape and kill and whatever else sick thoughts the people had. In a way, he prevented more death from accruing.
"Do you?" He worriedly asked, taking a cautious step closer to her.
She nodded, and watched how quickly the relief on his face came about. Edward continued, eyebrows furrowed, "But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of human life taken, no matter how justified it may have been. And I went back to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."
They'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.
"My room," he informed her, opening it and pulling her through.
His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than she would have believed.
The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store and in the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black wool sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.
He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with them. Abby went to look at his impressive music collection.
"How do you have these organized?" She wondered, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.
He wasn't paying attention.
"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," he said absently.
She turned, and he was looking at her with a gentle expression in his eyes.
"What?"
"I was prepared to feel… relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me… happy." He shrugged, smiling slightly.
But then, as his eyes dissected her expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.
"Are you still waiting for the running and the screaming?" She guessed.
A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.
"I've never found you scary, Edward. There was not a moment of the time we've spent together that made me fear you."
"You really shouldn't have said that," he chuckled.
He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.
She raised an eyebrow at him and suddenly, didn't see him leap at her — it was much too fast. She only found herself suddenly airborne, and then the two crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around her — Abby was barely jostled.
Edward curled her into a ball against his chest, holding her more securely than iron chains. She glared at him, but he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright only with humor.
"You were saying?" he growled playfully.
"That you still don't scare me?" She asked rhetorically. The position they were in only made her dig her head into his chest like she's done so many times before.
He just laughed.
A/N: Hi all! I do apologize for the lateness. Long story short, my boyfriend and I broke up after spending years together so I've been #grieving. I'll be okay. I'll just drown myself in Abby and Edward. Hope you enjoyed this chapter of fluff and learning about the backstory! Of course, a lot of this is from Twilight the book which I don't OWN.
Also I based Abby's reaction of Edward's past similar to what my reaction would be. I'm sorry, I do believe murder is wrong...but murdering r*pists and killers? I don't know, Daddy Edward may be making the right moves LOL, please this is just a joke. But it was DECADES ago and Edward needs to know he didn't do anything that most people wouldn't do.
One last thing, many of you mentioned Archive of Our Own to switch this story over to. However, they lack an app and I usually write my chapters on my phone on the Fanfic App. I don't think I'll shift it over. Let's just keep our fingers crossed for no changes!
Actually THIS is the last thing: I'm writing up a Christmas special! Which I really want to publish by late next week, before Christmas itself. Hopefully I finish it by then. And it is the last chapter before Bella's intro...who's ready for that?
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Reviews, follow/favorite, love you guys always, let me know your thoughts in the review section *kisses*!