heartbeat ⇢ demetri volturi

𝒕𝒆𝒏

Once again, Lucy cut her off abruptly. "Good," she stated, her arms folding across her chest.

Eleanor's lips trembled slightly. She would be lying if she said she expected a warm welcome. Lucy had never been a particularly sweet woman, but she had managed show her love in her own way. However, this distant and curt welcome surpassed anything she could have anticipated.

Had her departure offended her so deeply? Eleanor had always believed that leaving was the best decision she could have made. Not only had she discovered her true nature and found her family, but she had also lifted the heavy burden that had weighed on Lucy's shoulders since her birth.

"I just wanted to visit you and tell you that I'm fine," she wavered, but quickly composed herself, seeking  inner strength. "That I finally know who I am."

Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Have you found your father?"

Eleanor hesitated. "I think so..."

Had she really found him? The truth was that the issue remained unresolved. But despite the uncertainty, Joham being her father seemed to be the most likely answer.

A glimmer of anger sparked in Lucy's eyes."Good. In that case, you can tell him to visit my sister's grave whenever he pleases," she clenched her fists, trembling with emotion. "And if there's even a shred of remorse within his monstrous heart, he can apologize for what he and you did to her. Maybe then her soul will finally find peace."

Eleanor didn't find the strength to return to the Cullens that day. She wouldn't be able to answer their questions, eager to know how it had all gone. After Lucy asked her to leave and never come back, her body, which threatened to collapse at any moment, guided her to the abandoned house where she had first met Thomas.

Like Lucy's house, the place remained unchanged. Dustier and obviously more ruined. Yet, the deteriorating state hardly mattered to her in that moment of overwhelming emotion. She remained curled on the worn wooden floor, her tears flowing ceaselessly, as if an eternal stream had formed within her. The hours stretched on, her sobs echoing through the desolate space, until her head throbbed with a dull ache.

When night fell, Thomas found her. It wasn't a surprise. She figured the vampire would show up sooner or later. He rarely left her side. 

He said nothing, which she appreciated. Instead, he gently lifted her from the dusty floor and carried her to the old bed where she had once slept. Eleanor's grip tightened around his neck, her tears flowing again, as she clung to him desperately, the vulnerability of a wounded child clinging to her protector.

Amidst her sobs and hiccups, her voice trembled, uttering words weighted with guilt and self-condemnation, "I'm a monster."

In response, Thomas's touch became tender, his fingers caressing her hair with a soothing gesture. "No," he whispered. "You are not."

"I killed my mother," she wept. The taste of salty tears mingling with the bitterness in her mouth.

Thomas's expression darkened, his hands cupping her tear-stained face. "Whatever your aunt may have told you, it's not true," he affirmed, wiping away the tears that cascaded relentlessly. "You're good, kid."

If she hadn't been consumed by her heart-wrenching sobs, a laughter might have escaped her lips at the nickname. Despite the passage of time, in Thomas's eyes, she would forever remain the lost child he had discovered outside his home.

His voice remained gentle as he spoke reassuringly, "You are good in every way that one can be. You have a kind soul and a pure heart, kid. Anyone who knows you can attest to that. I can attest to that. And if there is one certainty I hold, it is that your mother would be immensely proud of the person you have become."