Edward

Alice wrinkled her nose in disgust as Edward walked into the living room.

"You smell like smoke and rain." She commented, turning back towards the TV.

And that's not all, her mind whispered. The smell of my hunt was all over me.

I'll have to be more mindful of that in the next few weeks, I thought.

Frowning, I looked over my rain-soaked reflection in the glass wall beside me. How long had I stood in the rain after leaving that diner? How fast had I run through the forest, towards Seattle, ready for my next conquest?

"Sorry," I muttered.

"S 'okay," she whispered, out loud this time.

After you wash up, come watch Top Model with me. She thought, eagerly.

I snorted, shrugging out of my jacket.

"I'm not really a Top Model kind of guy, Alice."

"Not a Top Model fan? You could've fooled me with that brooding stare of yours. Very 'smizing' if you ask me," I walked to the back of the L-shaped couch, propping my arms against it.

"Brooding and smizing are very opposite spectrums," I looked down at her, she was cuddled in a thick, knitted contraption. Alice's eyes stayed glued to the screen, but her thoughts flickered in and out, as they always did when she was worried. I could hear the question forming, but she wouldn't ask it.

"Shower up and come hang out. I'll try not to judge your terrible taste in shows."

I focused on the screen for a minute or two and then cringed.

"Alice." I admonished.

"There's no way you think these outfits are somehow . . . fashionable."

She giggled, toying with the tassels on the blanket.

"No, but you can't say trash TV isn't entertaining. This reality TV stuff is going to be big in the future," she tapped her temple, knowingly.

"I can tell."

In the shower, I let the water glide over me, trying to drown out the thoughts that kept creeping in. Suffocating in the cloying scent of blood mixing with steam, I couldn't focus myself any longer.

In every avenue of me, I was led back to directionless memories of Bella Swan, and the irrational desire to steal her away. But to what?

Not her death.

Even on the vampiric side, her blood didn't call to me like others. It was a subtle heat, yet I was still drawn in.

I yearn to simply keep her.

This feeling wasn't foreign, but it surprised me. Vampires are creatures of instinct, and beyond the thirst, our nature drives us toward possession. In a world where we are mostly nomadic and solitary, any connection feels like a rare indulgence.

While mating is part of our nature, it's uncommon.

Alice and I had our unorthodox upbringing to even the odds, she, having more lovers than birthdays—always discreet, always fleeting. For her, humans were companions, not equals, kept only as long as they served her purposes.

I chose to avoid any attractions altogether, as no one ever held my interest long; lust always burned out before it could linger.

There was never desire.

Yet here I was, desiring something from a human.

It would be in everyone's best interest for me to keep away from her. Our kind was barely meant to coexist with humans as it was. An undoubtable truth I'd come to live with.

Carlisle's blind faith in the greater good was a pipe dream.

But you want to see her again—

I pulled away from the thought immediately, pressing my head against the shower tiles.

"Fuck off," I muttered to myself, turning off the shower head.

As soon as I was dressed, Alice barged through my bedroom door.

"You could knock." I sighed, knowing she never would.

"Knock, knock." She said, flatly, plopping down on my bed.

I had a vision of you today.

I acknowledged her with a nod, sitting on the edge of my bed.

She outspread her arms, smiling.

I saw you; happier than you've ever been, Edward. It was brief, but it's there. But only if you stay.

I gritted my teeth.

"You always think you see everything the way it will be."

But what if I'm just here to cause more pain? My mind meandered.

I know it's going to happen; it was so clear, she continued, unphased by my dejection.

"If a decision has to be made to set things in stone, who made this decision for me? Because I know I—"

I did. I decided to have faith.

I rolled my eyes, falling back onto the bed beside her.

"Faith in me? You'll lose it, I promise."

No. not you . . . the divine intervention of love.

I snorted, rolling my eyes skyward.

She gave me a dirty look, deciding to bring the conversation into vocalization.

"You've spent too long running from this, Edward. None of us have been content for the past four years, and you know why?"

"Because I ruined—"

"No, because instead of just losing one brother that night, I lost two. Because Carlisle and Esme have had to worry if you were dead or alive every day since you left," she turned away from me, then.

"Because our family was completely torn apart by a terrible accident," she whispered.

An accident that could have been prevented by me.

Accident.

What a terrible understatement.

"It was not your fault. We didn't know, how could you have known? I should have known."

Her voice was thick and weepy, her eyes, glazed over, like she was having a vision. But I knew what she was seeing was in the past, not the present.

"I feel it, too, Edward. But we can't hold on to it." She whispered, curling into me.

I stroked her head, trailing off in thought. Closing my eyes, I remembered his last words to me.

"She'll be fine."

That's what he said.

"I promise not to think lightly about staying. For now, it's just a visit. But I'll think about it."

Her eyes were wide with hope, then.

I felt like the worst type of monster. The possibility of killing that hope in her eyes killed me.

A different set of eyes flashed into my mind. A deep, inquisitive, pair of brown eyes. I sucked in a deep breath.

"I met someone today," The words gushed out of me.

Staring up at the ceiling, I tried to keep my voice even.

"Someone interesting?" Alice asked, curiosity peaked once again.

She knew exactly what I meant before I even voiced it.

My ears perked. The TV picked up volume, women yelling all sorts of nonsense at each other.

"You should really stop watching that show, it's going to rot your brain."

She shrugged, rolling over onto her back.

Can't rot what's already rotted. Stop avoiding things you bring up.

"I saw Angela today." I gave her a pointed look. Her face remained unchanged, but her mind was curious.

"No, we didn't talk about you," I said before she could wonder.

She rolled her eyes, picking up one of my pillows at lightning speed and hitting me with it.

I didn't even attempt to dodge.

Don't be a jerk, you know I already know that. I saw when you made the decision to go o the diner. It was pretty blurry, though. Your mind is always in a fog recently. Be more decisive, it's getting boring.

I rolled my eyes at her petulant inner monologue. Then I thought for a moment, a veil of silence draping over us both.

"I met one of her friends. A young woman from town. She . . . really . . ."

Really . . . hated that ugly coat you had on earlier? Really . . . wanted to burn it in a bonfire?

I guess we'll be going shopping soon, I thought.

"She really reminded me of . . ." She sensed my discomfort, catching on to what I left unsaid.

Sitting up, she gasped a short, "Oh."

Her voice lilted even more than usual.

"And how did you handle that?" She pondered, sounding lost in thought. She was analyzing every fuzzy moment in her vision earlier, looking for this mysterious girl. Her vision was hazed over. Partly from my lack of physical proximity in the last few years, but most of it came from my lack of openness.

Our powers had their limits, and even with how many years of life lived, we hadn't discovered the reason for them all. But we knew two things for sure. Firstly, Alice couldn't see people's futures if the person didn't know where they wanted to be in their future. It wasn't just decision, but assurance of the mind, that set things into place. Secondly, the more she was around the person physically, the more she could delve into their future selves.

I could tell she was focusing hard, her brow furrowed, mind searching for a target point.

I tensed.

Something in me wanted to show her myself. To take her through every detail of what should've been a mundane reaction. A crossing of two strangers, never to meet again. Another bigger part of me wanted nothing more than to be rid of it all.

Even the idea of Bella Swan felt incredibly dangerous. It was best to leave out the gory details of my attraction to her.

"It doesn't matter, really. She's interesting, is all. Her mind is so closed off, it's challenging. And she—"

Has that same look he did.

I paused again. Alice stared at me, inquisitively.

Best not to go there. I thought to myself.

"It was probably a fluke." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

Alice leaned towards me, hand on my hollow chest.

"Edward, you don't have to pretend with me. I can see how muddled things were when you met her, at least. I'm intelligent enough to infer you're in between a rock and a hard place. So, I'll make it simple"

"How?" I asked; honestly, abruptly. Barring myself from her mind so I could actually try to hear her out.

"You obviously need to see her again. Get it out of your system."

On second thought, I didn't want to hear her out.

She gave me a pointed look.

Be open. She pleaded.

"Find her, and learn more about her. Hell, take her on a date or two, and maybe . . . "

Her mind drifted to other activities I could explore with her. I blocked myself from her mind.

Alice had a vivid imagination.

I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head.

"It's not that simple, and it could end really badly. You know that." I snapped.

She snapped back to our conversation; sighing, exasperated.

"Edward, you need to do something to make yourself—"

I felt myself walling off, cowering from this morbid conversation.

"Alice, stop it." I cut in.

"It's okay to move past it—"

"Move past it. Move past it— Alice. I killed–"

I covered my mouth. I couldn't say his name, couldn't even think of it. Alice's mood shifted, she moved closer to me, but I shifted away.

"Edward, no, you stop!" She warned, voice shaky.

"I did. And it was in the one moment he really needed me. How can you say she'd be safe with me?" I felt any composure I had break into pieces.

"How could anyone be safe with me!? Mortal or not!" I shouted.

She stayed still for a long moment, gazing towards nothing in particular, eyes glazed over. Suddenly, her head was in her lap, her body convulsing in dry heaves.

"Hey." I stroked her small, shaking shoulders. My outburst was obviously too much for her.

I don't know if I could feel any lower. How could she understand? Every internal marring she'd ever had in her undead life was patched up with a human's presence. A friendship here, a dalliance there. In her mind, this is the best thing for my preservation.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I really am. But I shouldn't be a disruption in her life just to further my happiness, I can't use her as a band-aid for my guilty conscious."

She's a person with a long life ahead of her, one I don't deserve to take part in.

I continued to rub her back until she calmed down, running her hands through jet black hair.

And I don't deserve you, Al.

Alice pulled herself together slowly, taking a shaky breath.

"Edward, I'm going to be very honest with you right now, and I need you to listen and not speak."

I nodded, solemnly.

"You are pacified by your guilt. It's a constant to you. You probably feel deep down, that as long as you have it, you can guard yourself and never worry about hurting anyone. Or being hurt . . . but that's not true."

She put her hand over the place my heart used to be.

"You're hurting yourself, and you're hurting everyone around you."

"No, Alice. You don't understand. I don't get to just move past it."

"You don't know that. And you won't . . . unless you stay with us. I don't need vision to see that. And yeah, you could stay away from her. But the pull is strong this time, I can tell." Her voice was soft, but firm.

"Sometimes little states of happiness are enough." Her voice was small, melted towards the end, and I could feel her sadness piercing through me.

"Stop running like a scared little boy. We both know you're way too old for that." She gave me an amused look, her sour mood gone in an instant with her quip.

"Just give yourself a chance to be something more than the sum of your self-worth. You might even find that you like what's underneath all that," She motioned to my body with a wand-like gesture.

"Angst."

"It's ok to still ache, we all do . . . and we'll probably never stop. But you have to let it go. Throw it up in the air." She literally threw imaginary confetti into the air, pretending to marvel at it as it rained down on her.

We stared at each other for a long time, I broke into a laugh first and she followed suit.

If you love me, you'll do it. And who doesn't love me, am I right?

I thought of Alice, then.

Alice, my friend.

Alice, my sister.

Alice, the one who got left behind in all this chaos.

Esme and Carlisle had each other to lean on . . . but Alice? Who did she have, if not me? Her companions who could never truly know her?

The lonely ghost of fonder memories crept over me; ones where there were five of us, and Alice's smile never wavered or cracked.

She'd spent so much time alone these past few years, but I couldn't see it. Couldn't see past my own well of grief.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath.

Just try to let it go, let it go for her if not yourself, I thought.

Then I propped myself up and sighed.

I shrugged off the feeling of inadequacy, reaching into the nightstand for a pack of smokes.

"I'll be outside," I said, gruffly.

She rose from my bed, skipping into the living room.

Ok. I have faith you'll be back, she quipped, plopping back down on the couch to watch her trashy TV.