Without thinking, I inhaled sharply, causing her scent to overwhelm me. My muscles tensed, ready to spring towards the girl in front of me and sink my teeth into her fleshy neck.
What if I allowed myself to kiss her warm skin before my teeth pierce...
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||Edward's P.O.V.||
There were exactly one-hundred seventy-two thousand three hundred and four leaves on the giant oak tree in the backyard. I leaned against the windowsill and watched as the insects scoured the tree- Ants and beetles alike. This is what I did in my spare time; well, this is what I did all of the time. All of my time was spare, after all.
Counting was my only escape. It passed the time and kept my mind off of trivial matters. It kept my mind off of she-who-shall-not-be-named. Still, from time to time, my thoughts got away from me, wandering away to her. It happened much more often now than it used to. Since returning to my family, the defenses I had spent twenty years building were slowly caving in, brick by brick.
In that moment, I allowed myself to think about her.
What was she doing right now?
Does she ever think of me?
Does she ever miss me?
Does she ever regret her decision?
Do her big, brown eyes still shine as brightly as the stars?
Is her hair still long and flowing? Perhaps, it's shorter now?
Did she go to college?
Did she get married?
Does she have any children?
I bet she has a dog and a fenced-in yard.
I wonder what sort of career she pursued.
Does she still live in Forks? Probably in La Push. With him.
A snarl ripped through my chest at the thought. With clenched fists, I carefully filed the thoughts in the dark recesses of my mind and locked them away. A wave of numbness washed over me, easing the dull ache in my chest, leaving me hollow once again.
I heard Carlisle approaching. His footsteps were nearly silent but his thoughts gave him away. He spends all of his time in his room. Is he ever going to heal?
He knocked once, out of courtesy, before opening the door to my bedroom and stepping in. He looked at me with wary eyes.
"Where are you, my son?" His voice was careful; gentle- as if a single word possessed the power to crush me.
I furrowed my brows at his words. "I'm right here," I responded stiffly, reflexively.
Sorrow filled his eyes. He shook his head grimly. "No. You're not." We areworried about you. "Edward, we haven't spoken about your time spent away from us. You know none of us judge you for the choices you made while you were gone. Won't you, please, talk to us? Let us help you."
"I'm fine," I spoke firmly.
His mouth turned down in a frown. Disapproval was set in his features. "Alice mentioned that you threatened to take the life of a fellow classmate. Is this true?"
