VI. Trigger Fingers
Summary: Isabella catches Edward in her room and reacts accordingly. [Part I]
I sat up with a gasp.
But whatever dream had woken me so suddenly was abruptly forgotten a split second later, when I was met with Edward's glowing eyes. Despite my panic, I kept my eyes glued to Edward's shocked expression. In the gloomy night, his chalky complexion was like a beacon.
He sat frozen, a statue in the old rocking chair that sat in the corner.
Perhaps he expected I'd fall back asleep and simply deem him a figment of my imagination? Fat chance.
I didn't dare blink as I kept my gaze fastened to him. Slowly, I reached into the top drawer of my nightstand and pulled the cold, heavy device tucked in between some of Bella's old t-shirts.
And then, I was staring Edward down with the barrel of a gun pointed straight at his face.
"Get out!" I hissed.
He required no further prompting and in a white flash, he vanished.
I set the gun down with a shaky gasp. "What the fuck."
I didn't plan how I would confront Edward the next day at school. Alice would only warn him off and I didn't want that. I was furious.
I'd strike at the first given opportunity.
Which should have technically been in our shared bio class, but it turns out I was too impatient for that. Because, the moment I saw him while standing beside Jess in the cafeteria line, I lost the bit of composure I had and stalked towards his table.
I completely ignored the irritated gazes of his older siblings, knowing I'd lose what little courage I had.
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the extra lock that Edward had broken when he'd snuck in last night, and dumped it on their table with a loud clang.
"I expect a replacement for that," I snarled, glowering Edward down. "And if I ever find you in my room again, don't expect another warning. I will use your body like a dartboard―except you'll be covered in bullet holes."
I didn't bother to wait for his reply. I spun on my heel and stalked back. Although not quick enough to miss Emmett's comment.
"Edward, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
A/N: Thank you for reading my nonsense. I accept no criticisms.