ָ ▋٬ 𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗔. 🩸
𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲. 🦇 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍.
⸝⸝ ʚ 🦷! ⌗ °•. 𝑪𝑬𝑪𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑨 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫, 𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮, 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑷𝑼𝑻 𝑼𝑷 𝑰𝑵 𝑨 𝑺𝑻𝒀𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫𝑵❜𝑻 𝑩𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑮𝒀𝑴, 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑺 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑶𝑺𝑻. Her cheeks were red, filled with blood, and her lips were parted as her chest rose and fell in desperate need of air. "He's rude, Viv."
The red head beside her looked flawless, a small tint of pink across her cheeks but it was flattering. Her hands found a spot on her hips, "he's beautiful."
"He's obnoxious."
"But he's handsome!"
Cecilia wiped the sweat from her brow, squinting at her friend with up unimpressed expression, "is that all that you care about? The fact that he looks good?"
"The fact, huh? So you admit that he looks good...?" Vivienne teased.
Rolling her eyes, the dark haired girl shook her head, "that is not the point. He's in like... almost every single one of my classes. The universe is out to get me, Viv."
"Well, he's not in almost every single one of your classes, he's in 2. This and biology. And perhaps it's a sign... a good sign. That maybe you will get to experience those things you read in the novels!"
"Or perhaps it's a sign that he has been promoted into the number one spot of people who are a pain in my rear," Cecilia struggled to catch her breath.
Vivienne thought for a moment, crossing her arms, "let me guess, number one was Jessica Stanley."
"No," Cecilia answered, "it was you."
"Hey!" Vivienne took offence, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked out across the field, "well, speak of the devil. Poor thing can't take his eyes off of you... probably thinking about how good you look sweaty."
Cecilia gasped, "Viv!" She braced herself to turn and look out toward the direction Vivienne's gaze was focused on. The girl was right, he stood there, still as stone as he watched from a distance. Even as she stared at him, his heavy stare never left. His black eyes practically going through to her soul.
A bone chilling, yet awfully familiar yell echoed across the field, "ENOUGH TALKING AND MORE RUNNING, LADIES!" Cecilia still hadn't caught her breath, and she looked over at the coach with resentment. That woman would be the death of her one day. She was sure she'd just pass out and die due to the amount of suffering that the woman put her through.
Cecilia's hand brushed her forehead, feeling her heated temperature as she sighed, "I am not built for running track. I'm breathing like a damn pug!"
Ever-so optimistic, the red head clapped as she skipped her way back onto the track field, "just one more lap, Love Bug! You're nearly there!"
Nearly there... she says. I feel like I've been stabbed a thousand times over... Cecilia thought, rolling her eyes to herself as she migrated from the small patch of fresh grass, planting her feet on the track as she followed behind Vivienne at a much slower pace.
She could feel the others behind were starting to catch up, so she decided to position herself off to the side, avoiding any sort of conflict for going too slow. But it appeared that today was not Cecilia Chapel's day. Her body plummeted to the harsh texture of the track, the ache spreading through her hands and knees, and she could already feel the liquid leaving her wounds. She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the stone wall that hit her. Jessica Stanley.
Just when I thought I could avoid her for the day, Cecilia grumbled in her mind.
"Going a little slow for the track, don't you think, Chapel?" She laughed, continuing past the girl that stayed in her position on all fours on the track, afraid to see the damage that had been done to her flesh. Perhaps she was imagining the sensation of the blood, but she didn't want to risk it.
"CECILIA!" An annoying voice prodded her brain. Mike Newton was coming to her aid after witnessing the ordeal from the sidelines, already finished his set laps of the track. "Are you-"
"Move it, loser!" Vivienne was coming to her rescue, like a knight in shining armor. "Shit, Love Bug, you're-"
"Don't tell me!" Cecilia was shaking, already knowing the word that was going to follow, "I don't wanna know!"
"I was coming to help her, y'know," Mike began bickering with the red head.
Vivienne placed her had on Cecilia's back to comfort the poor girl, looking over her shoulder at the blond boy, "perhaps you wouldn't need to help her if you put a muzzle on that girl and kept her on a leash."
She knew she wasn't just imagining the blood due to the paranoia in her brain. Her eyes closed as she focused on her breathing, focusing on anything other than the terrible thoughts and the pain. She could already hear the thoughts of the surrounding students, whispering about the dramatic scene. Any normal person would have gotten up by now, but Cecilia couldn't do it. She stayed — like a sitting duck.
"Viv!" Cecilia was panicking more and more as she finally opened her eyes to glance at the damage. While she couldn't see the wound, she could see the red beginning to slip in the small cracks of the track field.
"Sorry! Sorry! I'll go tell the coach and get you bandages!"
.
🦇
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⸝⸝ ʚ 🦷! ⌗ °•. 𝑨𝑺 𝑬𝑫𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑨𝑺 𝑨 𝑫𝑬𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫, 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵. Typically, he was better than his family when it came to the smell of blood and human interaction. Of course, not as good as his adoptive parents. But when he had smelt her whilst sitting beside her in biology, it made him feel uncontrolled. Unpredictable. He hated that feeling. He had imagined Jasper in his place, at this moment, smelling the girls blood. It could have been disastrous had that been the scenario. All of them exposed by some girl and her clumsiness. Not all of the Cullens had been exposed to something as delectable as this. And they hadn't fed for a while.
While his family were used to the taste and smell of human blood, her blood was different. Had it been a more common blood type that he could smell, the situation would have been different. She would have been just like everyone else. He could smell the bitterness of it. A sensation his body craved to taste.
Breaking him from the still silence of his thoughts, Emmett placed his hand on his stone shoulder, "you smell that, too?"
Thankfully Emmett was more controlled. Considering how rare the girls blood was, it surprised Edward to see his brother far more controlled than he was.
"AB negative," Edward's jaw clenched, the scent engulfing all of his senses.
Emmett removed his hand, running it over the grooves of his perfect face, "what do you think it tastes like?"
Ignoring the question, Edward kept his lips sealed for a brief moment. Innocent bystanders were everywhere, they were helping her as he thought of what he believed was the right thing to do. To kill Cecilia Chapel. He could remember her name, like it had been engraved into his mind. But with her out of the picture, that name would mean nothing to him.
He already knew by Emmett's body language that they were sharing similar thoughts.
"Think we should just kill her? I heard she has no family, so there wouldn't be too much worry," Emmett shared. He saw Edward's jaw clench harder than it had previously been and began retracting his idea, "man, I thought we were having a telepathy moment where we had the same thought..."
"No. Yes. Maybe," Edward answered the initial question. "I was thinking about doing it in biology but-"
"-Too many bystanders," the boys said in sync.
Emmett punched the air, "oh, come on, brother! I knew we were having a telepathy moment!"
While his brother ranted about how their minds were so similar, Edward took one final look at the girl before her bloodied hands and knees were covered in a layer of protection, provided by the red head girl that was far too loud for his ears.
With the Cullen's already on the run from whatever was hunting them, this girl was just another obstacle.
He knew what he needed to do if it meant protecting his family.
.
🦇
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⸝⸝ ʚ 🦷! ⌗ °•. 𝑰𝑻 𝑭𝑬𝑳𝑻 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑬.
When Cecilia opened the cedarwood door, she was immediately greeted by the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. The man who had taken her in as a child stood in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around his body as he placed the individual chocolate chip cookies into a container to preserve them for however long they would last. As long as the girl who craved sweets didn't eat them all in one go.
She really didn't know what she would do without that man. Probably starve. She was very thankful for Tommy Weiss, the man that took her in after the tragedy as he was close with her father at the local church. She had only ever called two places home. The first was where the tragedy took place, a house she hadn't been in since it happened. And the second was Tommy's home.
It was a welcoming place despite the dark and gloomy lighting which wasn't helped by the gloomy weather of Forks, a mix of tacky rusted orange and forest green furniture to help brighten the home and give it some colour. Nothing particularly matched well. While he was a great cook, Tommy was no interior designer.
"Celie! How was your first day?" He asked, enthusiastic and positive as usual.
The girl groaned, throwing her satchel onto the wooden floor before throwing herself onto the sofa, mumbling into the rough fabric of the cheap cushions.
Abandoning the cookies, he came over toward the sofa, sitting on the edge to avoid sitting on her, "that bad, huh? Want to talk about it?"
"I hate everyone there, Tommy."
The slowly graying man removed the apron, throwing it over the coffee table before running his fingers through the girls hair, "hate is not a very kind word..."
Cecilia flipped her position so that she way lying on her back, looking up at Tommy. "They all look at me. They know what's coming up. They do it every year. And every year Jessica Stanley is just waiting to make a different comment. Even when we were seven she'd have nasty things to say."
Tommy stayed silent, unsure of what to say. As he looked for a topic change to take the girls mind off of such things, he noticed the bandages around the girls hands and knees whilst brushing the hair out of her face that had tangled in the mere seconds she laid on the sofa, "let me guess... you fell over again? You always were clumsy."
"I think that would have been less embarrassing," Cecilia admitted, peering over at her knees, "Jessica mowed me down on the track field and said, "going a little slow for the track, Chapel" or something along those lines. I mean, can you believe her? It's like she was sent on this earth to personally terrorise me."
Cecilia leaned into the fingers that ran through her hair, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the peace.
"I'm worried 'bout you, Celie baby," Tommy whispered, "I could always have a talk with her parents at the next service-"
"No! That would probably just make it worse... Besides, I'll be fine. I always am," Cecilia now reversed the roles, comforting her father figure for the last ten years. But as those words slipped, she realised that Vivienne had really begun rubbing off on her more and more. They really started to sound alike.
Tommy removed his hand from the girls hair, "hmm, if you say so. Look, why don't you pick up drawing for yourself again? Out in the meadow or locked up in your room. Let some of your frustration out on a piece of paper."
The girl thought for a moment. It wasn't a terrible idea, and she had missed drawing for herself instead of appealing to her teachers at school. "It wouldn't be a bad idea, I suppose..."
"Then I'll leave you to it," Tommy smiled, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. He stood and made his way to the cedarwood door, fetching his coat from the hook attached to the wall as he always did. "I'm headed out for some preparations for... y'know..."
She smiled sadly, but Cecilia nodded in understanding, "yeah... I know. Well, you know where I'll be. In my room."
The older man's laugh bounced off of the walls in the small home, "of course you will be. Couldn't imagine you elsewhere. See you soon, chook. Won't be gone too long. Dinner's just going to be mac and cheese reheated. And make sure to have a cookie!"
When the door closed, Cecilia sighed, remaining in her place with her arms resting against her torso as she stared up at the blank ceiling. Perhaps Tommy was right. She could try to give drawing for herself a go again.
Stumbling up the outdated wooden staircase, Cecilia made it to her room at the end of the hall, throwing her satchel onto the open forest green carpet. She kicked her shoes off into the pile of the other pairs that she owned. Eventually she would get around to tidying the hideous pile up. But for now, she pulled back the white lace curtains and allowed her room to be visible to the forest of Forks.
Sitting in the chair to draw felt weird. Usually she'd turn on the overhead lamp to read a novel, but she pulled out the pencil and sketchbook from the lowest draw of her hideous wooden desk. Her small and delicate fingers ran through the pages, seeing the drawings of the last time she drew for herself many years ago.
Sketches of her mother and father, progressively getting more and more unrecognisable. Suddenly, she remembered why she stopped doing this for herself. She was forgetting their faces. And it pained her.
But as she opened to a blank page, she pressed the pencil to the paper and began. She hadn't had a muse for a while, and unfortunately for her, it appeared that her new muse was him.
⸝⸝ ʚ 🦇 ! ⌗ °• ━━━ '' - «🕸»‧₊˚𓍯 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚
╰┈➤ it's a miracle i didn't take my typical 5pm nap and decided to write this instead. and yes, edward's POV is very similar to the books guys, bc i literally had midnight sun open in front of me. that fat ass book is the only thing helping me 😭 but i forget how much i actually love stephanie myers writing.
also this chapter was brought to you by hozier bc he is all i listened to while writing this.
▋٬ gorgeous manip by tiishas