Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain was falling softly and glistening on the car window, which illuminated the endless stretch of dark trees with the dim headlights. It had been raining for hours – a drizzle at first when we left the Seattle airport, but by the time we reached the winding roads of the Olympic Peninsula, it had turned into a steady downpour.

I pressed my forehead to the cold glass and watched the drops race down in jagged, unpredictable paths. The forest looked as if it had been swallowed up entirely by shadows. The deeper we went, the more stifling the trees became. Each pine tree towered so high that its branches seemed to be trying to reach the sky.

“How much time until we get there?” I asked, my voice cutting through the muffled hum of the car heater.

“Not much,” I got the answer immediately, and the driver glanced at me from the driver’s seat. His eyes darted between the road and my reflection in the rear-view mirror. “Maybe fifteen minutes. Are you okay, kid?”

I shrugged and gave him a forced smile.

“Yeah. I’m just… tired. It’s been a long drive.”

It wasn’t a lie. I’d flown from New Orleans to Salt Lake City, from where I’d flown to Seattle, and now this seemingly endless drive to Forks was my last stop. I’d never been to Washington before. Back home, everything was sunny and loud, full of color and music. Life in New Orleans was vibrant with energy, people shouting at each other, the smell of sweets and spices wafting through the air. Here, everything was quiet – gray skies, gray roads, and a steady drizzle of rain.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. Luckily, the driver didn’t try to initiate any more conversation. I could tell he wasn’t the kind of person who would force conversation, but I didn’t know him. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t ask about what had happened at home, didn’t try to cheer me up. And I was grateful for that.

I fiddled with the leather strap of the small pendant around my neck, the cool metal of the coin brushing my fingertips. It was the only thing I had left of home, of my mother. I wore it all the time, a small lucky charm that she said had been in the family for generations. My chest tightened, and I pushed the memories away before they could take root.

The car rounded a sharp bend, its tires splashing puddles, and the trees suddenly parted to reveal the faint glow of streetlights.

“Welcome to Forks,” he said, playfully theatralic and cheery as we passed the town’s welcome sign. The City of Forks welcomes you—3,120. That’s a big change from New Orleans, which has a population of over two hundred thousand.

It wasn’t much of a welcome. The streets were empty, the sidewalks glistening with rainwater under the orange glow of the streetlights. We passed a diner where the neon lights flashed “Open,” but there was only one car in the lot. A few stores lined the main street, a gas station, and what looked like a hardware store, their windows blacked out for the night.

“It’s… small,” I said, trying to sound neutral.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “It’s quiet, but the people are nice. And at least it’s not too cold.”

I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest.

“That’s easy to say. You haven’t lived in New Orleans before. It’s twenty-five degrees there at this time.”

He chuckled, a low rumble filling the car.

“That’s fair.”

We turned onto a side street, and the houses got smaller, farther apart. The car slowed as we pulled into the gravel driveway of a modest one-story house. The porch caught the car’s light, casting a warm glow on the steps.

“We’re here,” he said, then turned off the engine.

I didn’t move right away. Instead, I stared at the house, my stomach churning with a mixture of nervousness and exhaustion. I hadn’t thought of it as home yet, but I hoped that would change someday.

I paid the driver, who carefully counted out the money. It was a good deal to bring a new resident to Forks from the Seattle airport. My family here had arranged the ride, the man was local, and with the promise of a good salary, it was definitely worth it. I got out of the car and took out my two suitcases, my gym bag, and my violin case from the trunk – they hid my entire life that I could bring with me. I said goodbye, he drove off, and I stared at the house. My new home, which I couldn't call home yet. It took time.

I walked up to the door, and since I didn't have a key yet, I knocked. The driver revved up the engine again and drove off. I knocked again. There was no answer, but I waited a few more minutes, accompanied by more knocks, but I was still alone.

“Damn...”

I muttered, taking out my phone and looking for my uncle's number in the contacts list to dial. It rang for a long time before he picked it up and cleared his throat to answer.

“Joyce, hi” he muttered.

“Hi, I'm here, but no one's home, I can't go in” I said immediately, without any hesitation.

“Is it that late already? Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m still at the hospital, and Carol’s working late today. I should have been home,” he explained. “I’ll try to get out of here as soon as possible, I promise.”

“And Jason and Olivia?” I asked immediately.

“They’re at a mutual friend’s party,” he replied. “No one’s home. I’m sorry.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said sarcastically, and not at all kindly.

“I’m really sorry,” he added.

“I’m not angry,” I assured him, although I could hear in my voice that it wasn’t true. I said goodbye and hung up. I had to wait. It was May, and the sun had already set below the horizon by eight in the afternoon and the city was covered in evening darkness.

I was alone. My uncle Matthew was a doctor at the local hospital, while his wife Carol worked as a psychologist. They had two children, my cousins: Jason and Olivia, who were twins and who were terribly different. Not only because one was a boy and the other a girl, but also because their hair color, eyes, and even skin color were different – although the latter was more due to the tanning bed. I barely knew them, there were less than three thousand kilometers between us, our relationship had been lived within the confines of video chat our entire lives, we had never met in person before. And now I was going to live with them.

I put my bags at the door, only my instrument was left with me, as always. I slowly left the house and its stairs behind me to look around. If I had to wait, I could do it to see where life was taking me. The houses were not separated by fences from the road and other people, and I wondered how many break-ins happened in a month, or even a year. The street was lined with electric poles and huge pine trees, and there were family cars and flatbed trucks parked in front of the houses, and as I approached the end of the street, I found a fenced-in area. It might have been a car park. The forest was even further away, but I could already see the trees clearly. I was used to the big city, to the hustle and bustle, but I still felt drawn to nature, the silence, the thickets of huge trees. It was as if they were keeping a secret that I definitely wanted to know.

Lupine Avenue was quiet, the lights were already on in the houses, and the families seemed happy when I glanced towards a window. And I was outside in the barely ten degrees, waiting for mine. I sat on the stairs of our house and tapped my phone. I read and answered the messages I had received from my parents. Yes, I arrived. Of course, everything was fine. Sure, I’ll behave myself. I didn't take any of them seriously, but they were reassured by the confirmation that I was coping well with my exile. Then I went through my friends' messages – they all assured me that nothing would change and that we would stay in touch. That wasn't true either. I knew it was a nice lie. We were separated by a whole country, several states, and neither of us was in a position to visit the other. I felt completely cut off from everything and everyone I had ever known and loved. My life was over and I had to start a new one.

I pulled my gym bag under my head and lay down at the top of the stairs. It was cold, but what could I do? There was nowhere else to go. I put my earphones in my ears and listened to the music on my iPod at maximum volume.

The first bars of "Livin' on a Prayer" echoed in my ears, drowning out the rain and the pain in my chest. Music had always been my refuge, my way of keeping the world at bay when it got too hard. Tonight, it was my lifeline. I leaned back on the steps, my breath damp in the cool air, and let Bon Jovi take me somewhere else – somewhere where there was no smell of damp wood and I didn’t feel alone.

80s and 90s rock was my favorite. It wasn’t just music; it was power, defiance, and soul all rolled into one. The soaring vocals of Journey, the raw edge of Guns N’ Roses, the apologetic confidence of Bon Jovi – they all spoke to me. The songs weren’t just noises; they were stories, emotions poured out in riffs and choruses. I loved the forgotten songs as much as I loved the hits. Songs like "Nighttrain" and "Edge of the Blade" felt personal, like secrets the band had shared only with me. And tonight, they were more than that. They served as armor against the world.

The cold seeped deep into me, sharp and wet, but I barely felt it. I was too engrossed in the music, the growls of Axl Rose and the solos of Slash, to ignore the silent drizzle of rain. My fingers drummed on the edge of my gym bag as the lyrics to “Sweet Child o’ Mine” filled my ears. I wasn’t in Forks anymore. I was somewhere warmer and freer. I felt like I belonged.

Then the crunch of gravel broke through the music.

I sat up quickly, pulling out one of my earphones, my heart pounding as the headlights swept across the porch. A dark SUV pulled into the driveway, its tires kicking up small sprays of water. Relief welled up in me as I recognized the figure driving it through the windshield.

The engine stopped, the driver’s door creaked open. My uncle Matthew got out, his tall frame moving quickly toward the porch. Even in the dim light, I could see the weariness etched into his face. His lines were deep, there were signs of sleeplessness under his eyes, and he looked as if he’d had a longer day than mine.

“Joyce?” His voice was sharp, worried, as his eyes scanned me and my makeshift bed. “What are you doing out here? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off my clothes. My player was in my hand, the earphones dangling loosely around my fingers. “You said you’d come as soon as you could.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his close-cropped hair.

“I know. I’m sorry, kid. The hospital was a madhouse today. I should have told you to wait somewhere warmer, or they should have sent a car for you. You shouldn’t have been sitting here in the cold.

“Where was I supposed to go?” I shrugged and slipped my player into my pocket. “And I had music. It wasn’t that bad.”

He glanced at me – I could see a mixture of disappointment and concern – and bent down to pick up my gym bag.

“It’s not that bad? Joyce, you’re sitting on the porch in ten degrees. Believe me, it’s bad. Come on, let’s go inside before you freeze.”

I followed him as he opened the front door, and the warmth from inside hit me like a wave. The house was small, but the heat and the faint scent of some kind of lavender felt welcoming enough. My sneakers squeaked slightly on the hardwood floor as I entered the living room.

It wasn’t very big, but it felt cozy. The couch and armchair looked like they’d seen better days, and the coffee table was covered in a stack of medical journals and a mug with a faded logo I didn’t recognize. A photo of Matthew and his family – a candid shot of him, Carol, Jason, and Olivia smiling at the camera – sat on a coffee table, its frame slightly crooked.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, setting my bag by the door, then turned to me. “Carol’s been working late all week, and the kids aren’t exactly the ’clean up after yourself’ type. But hey, welcome home.”

“Thanks.” I slipped out of my wet coat and spread it across the back of the couch. The word “home” felt strange, foreign. I wasn’t sure this place would ever be mine. Matthew must have noticed the hesitation in my voice, because his expression softened.

“We’re glad you’re here, Joyce. We really are. We’re going to be family, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled with a small nod. I didn’t know if it would really be like that, but I went along with his game. We’d already video chatted, he wasn’t a stranger, but I felt like one, and I wanted to gauge him before I gave myself to him.

“I’ll show your room.”

He led me down a narrow hallway to a small bedroom at the end. It was average, with a double bed pushed against the wall, a wooden wardrobe, and a desk under the window that looked out onto the grassy area next to the house and a tree.

“It’s not big, but it’s yours,” he said.

I set my violin case on the bed, set my suitcases against the wall, and ran my hand over the soft duvet.

“Thank you.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment, his hands in his coat pockets.

“If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, giving him a faint smile. It was the most I could manage.

He nodded and stepped back.

“Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

After he left, I slowly unpacked my things. My clothes went into the closet, my books onto the desk. I sat down on the bed and looked around. It didn’t feel like my room yet, but I knew it would eventually.

I closed the door after Matthew left, kicked off my shoes, got into bed, and pulled the covers up to my neck. Outside, the rain continued its steady rhythm, and I closed my eyes and imagined it was a song. When I couldn’t sleep, I grabbed my player again and slipped the earphones back into my ears.

The next song was “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and I smiled faintly. If ever there was a time to hold on to a little faith, this was it. As the opening chords played, I let the music envelop me, taking me to a place where starting over wasn't so scary. Tomorrow would come, whether I was ready for it or not. But at least I had music tonight. And that was enough for now.

Chapter Text

Morning came too quickly. Pale, gray light filtered through the thin curtains at my window, yanking me out of the sleep that had come after hours of tossing and turning. The room was cold, and I pulled the covers tighter around me, dreading the thought of leaving the warmth. My phone rang softly on the table.

6:30.

Too early. Too cold. Too much newness. But I had to get up – it was my first day at Forks High School, and I was trying to muster the strength to get started. With a groan, I pushed the covers aside and shivered as my feet hit the floor. It was cold. I wasn’t used to the cold.

The house was silent, except for the occasional creak of the walls, as if reaching out and settling into the new day. I grabbed a towel from the top of my suitcase along with my toiletries and slipped out into the hallway. I found the bathroom easily – Matthew had pointed it out the night before – and I stood in the doorway and listened. No sound came from inside.

I turned the lock and stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind me. I wasn’t ready to face my family yet.

The bathroom was small but clean, with pale blue tiles that looked like they hadn’t been updated since the ’90s. One wall was dominated by a shower stall with a plastic curtain decorated with faded seashells. I turned the water on as hot as it would go and stepped in, letting the steam warm me up. It wasn’t much, but it helped. I washed up quickly, my mind already buzzing with anxiety about school. New town, new school, new people – everything in Forks felt too small, too quiet, too gray. It wasn’t home.

When I got out of the shower, the mirror was fogged up. I wiped it off with my towel and stared at my reflection. The water brought out the faint freckles on my nose that I’d tried to hide for years. My hair was still damp, slightly curly. I didn’t look like the same girl who had left New Orleans two days earlier. I looked… well, uncertain. I felt smaller.

Pushing the thought away, I got dressed. I chose a simple outfit: dark jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and a flannel shirt that was my father’s. It was soft and oversized, but also comforting. I laced up my sneakers and, after drying my hair, combed it.

By the time I got to the kitchen, the house was awake.

First the smell of coffee hit me, then the sounds. As I turned the corner, I saw Carol – my aunt – standing at the counter, pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee. She was thin and sharp-featured, her short blond hair styled in soft waves. She had a calm efficiency about her, as if she could organize an entire household before breakfast without breaking a sweat.

“Morning,” I said hesitantly, and entered the room.

She turned, a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning, Joyce! Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” I lied, and sat down at the small dining table.

Jason and Olivia were already there, their attentions focused on their phones. They were twins, but to look at them you would never have known. Jason was broad-shouldered and blond, with an easy confidence that made him look older than eighteen. Olivia, on the other hand, was slim, with dark, almost black hair and striking green eyes. She looked like she was on the cover of a magazine and didn’t belong in this sleepy little town.

“Joyce,” Carol said, setting her mug down on the table, “come have breakfast with us. There’s cereal in the cupboard, or I’ll make you eggs if you want.”

“Cereal will be good,” I said quickly, not wanting to bother her. Even at ten, I was much more independent than my peers, and that had only grown stronger over the years, so now I felt really uncomfortable when someone offered me help.

I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some cereal and milk, half-listening to the conversation at the table.

“So, Joyce,” Olivia said, looking up from her phone with a curious smile, “are you nervous about your first day?”

I shrugged and focused on my cereal.

“A little. New school and everything, you know…”

“Don’t worry,” Jason said, grinning. “Forks High School is about as exciting as watching paint dry. You’ll fit right in.”

Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him. The school isn’t that bad. Besides, we’ll show you around.”

“That’s… nice of you,” I said, a little surprised. I didn’t know what to expect from them, but at least they seemed friendly.

Matthew came into the kitchen just then. He looked more rested than he had the night before, though the lines of fatigue around his eyes hadn’t faded.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said, grabbing a piece of toast from the counter. “Are you ready for your first day, Joyce?”

“Sure,” I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Jason, Olivia, make sure she’s fine, okay? And you’ll come home together.”

Jason gave him a mock salute.

“Yes, sir.”

Olivia just smiled.

After breakfast, we got into Jason’s old SUV. The leather seats were worn, and the musty smell was in the air. Olivia took the front passenger seat, and I sat alone in the back.

The drive to school was short, the narrow streets lined with tall pine trees and houses without fences. It was quieter than I had expected – no one honking, no people rushing to work. All I could hear was the sound of tires on the wet pavement and the occasional bird chirping.

“So,” Jason said, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror, “what’s that instrument? Do you play the violin or something? Dad said you came with an unusual package.”

I nodded.

“Yeah. I’ve been playing since I was a kid.”

“That’s cool,” he said honestly. “And are you good?”

“You can’t imagine how good I am” I grinned, knowing that even that was barely covering the truth.

“She’s probably amazing,” Olivia said, turning in her seat to look at me.

Jason pulled into the school parking lot, and my stomach churned as I looked at the building. Forks High School was small – even smaller than I had expected. The main building was a low, rectangular structure with faded brick walls and a simple sign that read, “Forks High School.” The parking lot was half-full, mostly older cars and pickup trucks. Students were huddled together, their laughter and chatter echoing faintly in the cool morning air.

Jason pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.

“Well, here we are,” he said with a grin as he opened the door.

I swallowed hard and followed them out of the car, my backpack strap clutched tightly. The cold air bit my face, and I felt the weight of curious eyes on me as we walked toward the building.

That was it. My new school. My new life.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for what was coming.

We all got out of the car, I slung my bag over my shoulder, which held notebooks and pens, and followed Jason and Olivia toward the building. Everything was so gray. The buzz grew louder as we approached the school building. I said goodbye to my cousins in front of the academic office, whose first class was about to start, and I went inside to present my documents and get my schedule. I was given a map of the school, but I couldn’t quite figure it out, so I ignored it. I thought I’d ask a student where I could find the room I was looking for. My first class was English Literature, but by the time I got there – with the help of a guy named Will – the class was already in full swing.

The classroom smelled faintly of old books and chalk dust, which usually put me at ease, and as I entered, I clutched my schedule like a lifebelt, feeling in many ways, but not comfortably. The teacher, a wiry man with graying hair and glasses on the end of his nose, looked up from his desk.

“You must be Joyce Warren,” he said in a neutral voice. “Have a seat. We’ve only just begun.”

I nodded and glanced around the room, searching for an empty desk. The students were already watching me – some with open curiosity, others with indifference. My eyes landed on an empty seat in the middle row, and I slid into a chair, trying not to draw too much attention to myself.

The teacher – Mr. Greene, according to the nameplate on his desk – cleared his throat.

“Okay, class. Today we continue our discussion of the Wuthering Heights. I assume you’ve all read your assigned chapters.”

There was a collective groan from the class, which made me smile involuntarily.

“Joyce,” Mr. Greene said, looking at me over the rim of his glasses. “Have you read Wuthering Heights?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “Several times.”

I saw a few students’ eyebrows rise in surprise, but I ignored them and fixed my gaze on Mr. Greene. Great, I’ve caught a class that was either too lazy to read or simply not interested in literature. Neither of these options appealed to me.

“Great,” he said. “Then perhaps you can contribute to the discussion. Let’s start with this: what do you think motivates Heathcliff’s obsession with revenge? Is it love, or something darker?”

I leaned back in my chair, considering the question.

“I think it’s both,” I said finally. “Heathcliff’s love for Catherine is what drives him, but he’s also driven by a sense of betrayal and a need to control. He doesn’t just want revenge, he wants to rewrite history so that everyone suffers as he has.”

A flash of interest crossed Mr. Greene’s face.

“Interesting. Can anyone add anything to that?”

The room was silent for a moment before someone spoke.

“I think Joyce is right,” said a girl a few chairs away in a soft but firm voice. “But I think Heathcliff is using revenge to avoid dealing with his own feelings. It’s easier to hate than to admit that he’s still in love with Catherine.”

I turned to look at her, a little surprised at how thoughtful her answer was. She caught my eye and gave me a small, tentative smile, which I returned before turning back to the teacher.

“Good,” Mr. Greene said, nodding. “And you, Edward? Any thoughts?”

The boy named Edward, who sat in the corner of the room like a dark, brooding statue, raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and measured.

“I think Heathcliff is a cautionary tale, nothing more. His obsession destroys everything he loves, including himself. It reminds me that passion can become dangerous when left unchecked.”

I sat up a little straighter as he spoke. He didn’t sound like a typical high schooler – his words were too deliberate, his tone too calm. There was something odd about him, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

The discussion continued, but I found myself distracted, focusing on the dynamic between Bella and Edward. They glanced at each other, smiling knowingly, and it was clear even to me, the newbie, that what they had was more than just a few dates. There was a depth in their eyes, a cacophony of emotion, as if it was clear even now, at seventeen, that they were meant to be together for the rest of their lives. There was a quiet intensity to their interaction, as if they were having a conversation the rest of us hadn’t heard. It was interesting, but I forced myself to focus on class.

Mr. Greene had assigned us to write a short essay on the subject of obsession in Wuthering Heights before we moved on to another book. By the time the bell rang, I was looking forward to the assignment. Literature was one of the few things that touched me deeply, even if I didn’t like the book I was reading.

As I packed up my things after class, I caught the girl who had spoken earlier glancing at me again. She looked at me as if she wanted to say something, but Edward was already there, his hand lightly touching hers as they left the classroom together. I sighed and slung my bag over my shoulder. My first class had gone better than I had hoped, but there were still five more before I could leave the building.

After two more classes, I went to the cafeteria and ate alone. There were a few familiar faces, but they didn’t invite me over, and I preferred being alone to being charmed by strangers. I took an empty table by the window, and as I scooped up my peas, my eyes wandered around, but I quickly stopped scanning. These were just teenagers – loud laughing, talking, connected teenagers, and I was still an outsider.

I took out my player and plugged in my earphones. "Hard To Handle" provided a soothing background noise to help me immerse myself in the book I had brought to school. I ate and read, ignoring the outside world. When my lunch was finished, I started another chapter, but I felt my skin tingle with the feeling that someone was watching me. I cautiously glanced up from the pages of the book, almost unnoticed, my eyes scanning the cafeteria, which was much more deserted now: most of the students had left for their next class. But there was one table that was still occupied.

There were six of them. The dark-haired, pale girl who had spoken in literature class sat on the edge, and next to her was the boy called Edward. Next to him was a honey-blond boy, a short-haired girl, a tall and muscular guy, and a platinum-blond girl. They were all pale, a little stocky, and barely talking. The two blondes were talking to each other, while the short-haired girl was chatting away over everyone's heads, while Edward was muttering under his breath to his girlfriend. The tall, muscular boy was staring straight at me. They were sitting far away from me, but it was still clear that he was looking at me, I had no doubt about it.

I could have hidden from his gaze or left the dining room, since I was already finished. Instead, I slowly lowered the book, placed it on the table, and made eye contact with the boy with raised eyebrows, my expression clear: what do you want?

Chapter Text

The school cafeteria was the same as always – a sea of people, all looking the same, talking the same, and moving as if monotony were the most important thing in life. It was boring. Everything about high school was boring. I had been through a lot, but I still couldn’t figure out why we were doing this. The whole idea was to blend in, but it didn’t really engage any of us, not to mention it was terribly monotonous – no fun at all.

I was twirling an unopened water bottle in my hand, resisting the urge to throw it at someone just to liven things up. Edward sat across from me, his usual “I’m tortured and mysterious” expression on his face. Bella was next to him, picking at her salad. Alice sat on the edge of the table, practically vibrating with energy, and Jasper did his calm, stoic thing next to her: staring straight ahead. Rosalie hadn’t said a word since we got here, but that wasn’t new. She was in her own world.

“So,” I said, trailing off, “are we going to sit here all day, or does anyone have anything interesting to say?”

Edward looked at me.

“You’d complain, no matter the topic.”

“True,” I replied with a grin, “but at least I’m consistent.”

“Edward,” Alice whispered in a light but teasing tone. “He thinks of the new girl.”

That caught my attention.

“New girl?” I raised an eyebrow curiously. “Haven’t we had enough drama with Bella?”

Bella rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. Edward, however, gave Alice a sharp look.

“Her name is Joyce,” he muttered.

“Joyce,” I repeated, letting the name roll off my tongue. “What about her?”

Before Edward could answer, I noticed her. She was sitting at a table in the far corner of the room, completely engrossed in a book. Her fiery red hair was in waves around her face, a little disheveled, as if she didn’t care much about her appearance – but in a way that suited her. Her jeans were torn, and her leather jacket looked like it had seen better days, but it gave her this bad-ass, “don’t mess with me” vibe.

And then there was the music.

I could even hear it from across the room. The kind of music that got stuck in your throat and wouldn’t let go. I hear a lot of music here, from homes, from headphones, from cars, but this kind of old rock rarely appeared. I couldn’t look away, I just kept staring at her.

“Interesting,” Edward said quietly.

“Oh, don’t be kidding,” I said sarcastically, but with a smile, and leaned forward a little. She flipped through her book, completely oblivious to the chaos around her. She wasn’t trying to blend in. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She was just…

“She’s smart,” Edward added, but her voice disturbed me. “Her thoughts are all over the place. It’s messy, loud. Mostly music, but when she focuses…” He trailed off, as if he didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“When she focuses, what?” I asked, still watching her.

“Sharp,” he finally said. “Really sharp. And she keeps a lot of things to herself.”

“Well, now you’ve got me interested,” I said, grinning. “She looks like a lone wolf. Well, not the kind of dog we know,” I laughed.

“She seems nice,” Bella said suddenly. "Quiet, but not shy. She knows what she's talking about, especially when it comes to literature. She impressed Mr. Greene this morning, her reasoning was seriously impressive."

“She seems like a smart little troublemaker,” I said, my grin growing wider. “I like what I see.”

Edward rolled his eyes.

“You don’t even know her.”

“Not yet,” I shrugged.

At that moment, as if sensing that we were talking about her, Joyce looked up. Her gaze met mine from across the room, and I swear the air stirred. She didn’t look away. Most people were keeping their distance from us, maybe a little scared, but not her. She looked deep into mine, her dark eyes determined and sharp, as if daring me to look further. There was no hesitation in her, nor was there any fear – just this quiet confidence I rarely saw in anyone. And man, she had a killer look in her eyes.

Her lips curved into a faint smile – like it was a wicked smile, defiant and daring – and I couldn’t help but grin back. She didn’t take her eyes off me until she wanted to, like she was the boss, and when she did, it was as if she had decided I wasn’t worth more than a few minutes. She turned back to her book, her feet still tapping to the beat of her music, as if nothing had happened.

“Well,” Rosalie said dryly, and finally spoke, “someone has a new favorite little human.”

“I doubt it,” I leaned back in my chair, though I couldn’t help but grin.

“Careful, Emmett,” Edward warned. “She’s not as simple as she looks.”

“That’s what makes her interesting,” I said.

The bell rang, and the dining room suddenly shifted. The students grabbed their trays and bags, the noise level rising as they shuffled out of the room. Joyce stayed where she was, taking her time, packing her things at her own pace. As we stood up to leave, I took one last look at her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out with her head down but her steps confident.

For the first time in years, I felt genuinely curious about someone. I didn’t know who she was or what she was like, but I was sure of one thing. I wanted to know more. I didn’t want to intrude on her life, I didn’t even want to introduce myself – I just planned to watch her from afar. From afar, but persistently and curiously.

The day wore on. Time in high school was passing remarkably slowly, at least for me, and I counted the minutes until the bell that signaled the end of the last period. Even with my heightened senses and sharp mind, I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention to the teachers’ everyday chatter or the endless noise of the students. It was all so predictable.

Except her.

I saw Joyce again between classes, leaning against the lockers with a book in one hand and her music player in the other. She was mouthing the words to a song, her lips moving silently, her feet tapping in time to whatever she was listening to this time. Her coat was over her shoulders, and her hair was messier than before, as if she’d been running through it too many times while she was concentrating on something.

This time she didn’t notice me, and I didn’t try to get her attention. I just watched her from a distance, trying to figure her out. She seemed… detached from everyone else and didn’t belong here. Not like most students, when they tried to act cool, but she truly detached from the world around her. It was as if she had her own rhythm and didn’t care what was going on.

It was rare to see someone who wasn’t interested in blending in or attracting attention. She was just being herself. She didn’t want to conform. That was probably why I was so curious about her. It was ironic that she had attracted my attention by trying to remain unnoticed.

“Are you still staring?” Edward’s voice broke into my thoughts as she appeared next to me.

“I’m just staring in general,” I shrugged.

Edward gave me a knowing look, but didn’t push the subject any further.

"Bella and I are leaving after school. Make sure you stay out of sight, or you'll get into more trouble than you already have."

"Out of sight?" I grinned. "Come on, Edward, when have I ever caused trouble?"

He didn't answer, just rolled his eyes and left.

Later that afternoon, we all gathered at the house. The drive home was uneventful as usual. Rosalie and Alice were quietly chatting in the backseat about some new businesses opening in Port Angeles, while Jasper stared out the window, lost in thought. I sat behind the wheel, half-listening to their conversation, but I kept thinking about Joyce. She stuck in my mind, unable to shut it out.

When we arrived, the house was as clean as ever. Nestled deep in the woods was our family's sanctuary – a place where we could be ourselves without worrying about the outside world.

Carlisle was already home, sitting in the living room with Yulianna. She was sitting elegantly on the arm of the chair, her long brown hair falling over one shoulder, her golden eyes meeting ours as we entered, and she smiled warmly. I loved Yulianna, she was youthful, open to games, to fun, and yet a grown-up, determined companion to Carlisle.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said in a soft and melodious voice. “How was school?”

“The same as always,” I said, and threw my bag at the door. “Boring.”

Yulianna laughed.

“I can’t imagine myself sitting on the bench again.”

Esme emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

“Dinner is ready for Bella,” she said, glancing at Edward and Bella as they entered behind us. “I made your favorite, in case you get hungry before you leave.”

“Thanks, Esme,” Bella replied with a smile.

Alice glided past us, her excitement palpable.

“You’re going to have a great time in Florida!” she told Bella, practically dancing on her toes. “Tell Renee we all say hello.”

“We’ll tell her,” Edward promised, putting his arm around Bella’s shoulders.

The others and I settled into our usual seats in the living room. Rosalie took the couch by the window, her expression distant as she stared out. Jasper, as always, was silent – I couldn’t help but notice that even though he liked Edward, he was more tense when they were in each other’s company. Alice chatted with Esme for a while, while I lay on a couch, bouncing a baseball off the opposite wall. Carlisle and Yulianna stayed near the fireplace, talking quietly, their faces serious. Sometimes I envied them for finding each other because I was rarely lonely, but sometimes I was. Carlisle and Yulianna didn’t flirt in front of us, but we all noticed the little touches, the stolen glances. They belonged together, and it simply couldn’t be otherwise. Eventually Esme joined them – if there were leaders in our family, it was the three of them.

It was a rare silence in our house, everyone together and content in their own way.

After Bella and Edward had left to the airport, the house became quieter. I wandered into the kitchen, where Esme was tidying up, and out of habit I picked up a bottle of water. I didn’t drink it, of course, but the thought of holding it occupied my hand.

“What’s on your mind, Emmett?” Esme asked in a gentle voice.

“I’m just thinking about school. It’s the same routine every day. I’m bored,” I admitted.

She smiled knowingly.

“You’ll find something to keep you interested. You always do.”

I nodded, but said nothing else. My thoughts wandered back to Joyce – how she seemed to be completely in her own world, yet so aware of everything around her. I felt a bit like an outsider, too, which is probably why I found her so interesting.

I left the kitchen and went into the living room, where Jasper and Alice were quietly playing chess. Since Alice had seen through the other’s intentions, it wasn’t a fair play, but Alice had promised not to cheat, and Jasper trusted her, since they were best friends. Rosalie was flipping through a magazine, concentrating intently. Carlisle and Yulianna had disappeared upstairs, probably discussing some new research project. Carlisle shared everything with her, even if Yulianna couldn’t understand a word of it.

I sat back in the armchair and let my thoughts wander. The house was full of noise – Alice’s soft laughter, Jasper’s voice moving the chess pieces, Rosalie’s soft rustling as she turned the pages – but none of it was loud enough to drown out my thoughts.

Hours passed, and night fell over the forest. I ended up in the garage, tinkering with the Jeep. It was one way to keep myself occupied. Rosalie joined me after a while, leaning against the workbench, watching me tighten the bolt on the engine.

“You’re distracted,” she said after a long silence.

“What?” I glanced at her, smiling. “Since when do you care what I think?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t care. But you’re quieter than usual. It’s strange.”

“Maybe I’ve just calmed down,” I replied, laughing.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, but didn’t push the subject any further. She stayed with me for a while longer, the silence between us comfortable.

By the time I got back to the house, the others had dispersed. Alice and Jasper were watching an old movie in the living room while Yulianna was reading in one of the armchairs. Carlisle was in his study, the soft sound of his pen scratching against paper drifting through the open door.

Moments like these reminded me how lucky we were. Despite all the complications in our lives, we had something most vampires didn’t have – family.

“It’s time,” Alice said suddenly, loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. It didn’t take two seconds for all the Cullens to file into the living room except for Edward, who had just gotten off a plane in Florida.

Her golden eyes were sharp, her expression unreadable but urgent. She stood by the window, her small frame almost vibrating with tension.

“Victoria,” she said in a choked voice.

The room fell silent. The name alone was enough to make us all nervous. Carlisle exchanged glances with Yulianna, who was already on her feet. Rosalie stood next to me, her jaw set.

Alice continued.

“She’s testing the boundaries again, running along the edge of the river. The wolves are after her, but she’s fast and can’t keep up. She’s trying to goad them into a fight, but I think she’s looking for a gap where she can cross.”

“Then we won’t give her a chance,” Carlisle said in a calm but firm voice. “We’ll go and make sure she doesn’t get through. Alice, show us the way. Yulianna, stay close to her.”

“I’ll stay with Alice,” Jasper said, standing next to her.

I rolled my shoulders, adrenaline already pumping.

“Let’s finish her off once and for all. I’m tired of that bastard always lurking around us.”

“Be careful, Emmett,” Esme said quietly, her concern clear in her eyes.

I grinned at her quickly.

“I’m always careful.”

We were outside within minutes, moving at the same time. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The forest was alive with the sound of water rushing forward from the river, the soft howls of wolves echoing through the trees.

Alice was in the lead, her movements quick and precise as she followed her visions. Yulianna stayed close, her sharp gaze wandering through the trees. Carlisle and Jasper stood unwaveringly beside her. Rosalie was just ahead of me, her golden hair catching the moonlight as she ran.

I heard Victoria before I saw her. Her scent was strong now, a sickly sweet blend of vampirism and revenge. She was fast, but not fast enough to shake us off.

“There!” Alice hissed, pointing to the red dot shining ahead of us. Victoria’s fiery hair was like a beacon in the darkness as she raced through the trees.

The wolves were not far behind her. I could hear their heavy breathing, the clatter of their paws. They kept pace with her on the other side of the river, their growls low and menacing.

Victoria turned suddenly and headed for the river.

“She’s trying to cross!” Rosalie shouted sharply.

Not if it’s up to me!

I ran faster, outrunning the others, the ground blurring beneath me as I closed the distance. Victoria was fast. She reached the river’s edge, her feet sliding on the wet rocks. She paused for a moment, her red eyes were between the wolves and us.

“You won’t escape this time,” I growled in a low, dangerous voice.

Victoria’s lips curled into a wicked smile and she threw herself across the river.

The wolves moved forward, their howls piercing the night. One of them – a massive gray – leaped and came within inches of catching the girl, and the opportunity was there: Victoria was hovering over the border, unable to touch the ground on our side. I had to catch her, here was my chance to catch her!

I didn’t think, I just reacted.

Victoria was only a few feet away, her movements frantic as she tried to keep her balance.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against her arm. But before I could find a firm grip, a blur of fur and claws slammed into me.

I was thrown backward by the impact, my back hitting the rocky shore with enough force to crack the stone. The wolf – a huge black one with sharp eyes – stood above me, growling softly.

“Is this serious?” I muttered, shaking the animal off me.

I stood up and glared at the wolf. It snarled at me, rose, and took a step toward me.

“Back off, dog,” I said. “I’m not the enemy!”

The wolf didn’t move. His stance was aggressive, his gaze fixed on me.

Behind him, Victoria was gaining ground, and her laughter was rising as she disappeared into the trees on the far bank of the river.

“Damn it!”

I leaped forward, intending to overtake the wolf, but it blocked my path and slammed in front of my leg.

“Okay,” I said, my voice dripping with irritation. “Do you want to dance? Let’s dance.”

We clashed again, teeth and fists clashing. The wolf was strong, his body solid and unyielding, but I was stronger. My fists touched its side and he backed away, but then it attacked again. It quickly recovered, its claws catching my arm as it leaped toward me again. I didn’t feel the pain, but the force of the blow knocked me off balance.

“Enough!” Carlisle's voice was sharp and commanding.

The wolf froze, its ears flattened as it turned towards him. Carlisle stood on the riverbank, his hands raised in peace.

"We are not your enemies," he said in a calm but firm voice. "Our goal is the same: to stop Victoria. Calm down!"

The wolf hesitated, its growl easing. After a tense moment, it backed away, its gaze still wary.

I exhaled, my hands clenched into fists.

“Great.”

Victoria was gone, taking advantage of our internal struggle and mistrust, and gone. Damn it!

Wolves were humans somewhere, too, their shapeshifting abilities passed down from generation to generation, and their instinct to hunt us, to fight us proved to be a stronger drive than the task of hunting down a common enemy. Victoria had made our lives miserable ever since we opened up to Bella. Her mate, James, had hunted Bella, let his lust for blood get the better of him, and in the end, he had been the one who had come to the bad end. We had finished him off, and now we had to face Victoria’s revenge. She wanted Bella. And we couldn’t let that happen.

We knew she was up to something, but we didn't yet have a clear idea of her intentions, so the only thing we could do was keep her away from Forks.

Chapter Text

I needed time. After chasing Victoria, the others went back to the house, but I continued walking through the forest. I wasn't looking for Victoria, I knew she was already far away, I just needed time. I walked through the forest like a human – no hurry. I wandered aimlessly through the trees and thought about what had happened. Victoria, how determined she was to hunt Bella – she had set a goal that she had to kill Edward's partner because he had killed her partner. An eye for an eye. Actually, I understood her if I thought about the situation logically. If I had a partner who had been killed by other vampires, I would definitely think about revenge. I didn't agree with her, how would I have done it? But I found logic in it. I did everything to catch Victoria and I knew that it would only end if we killed her. And I could stand Bella, there was no question of protecting her as best I could. But now the red one was gone, and I was wandering aimlessly in the woods.

Then I heard it. A thin, distant violin wailed into the night. That kind of music was rare here – in Forks, certainly, let alone in the woods. The violin kept playing and I followed its sound. I didn't hurry, I didn't speed up, I just walked in the direction of the sound and listened to someone playing.

Well, of course.

Joyce had barely left the city, only walked a few meters through the trees before she sat down on a fallen tree trunk and started playing. I had existed for over fifty years, I might have been educated, but I had never been interested in composers, painters and their works, or architecture. I was not a cultured person, so I had no idea what I was hearing, I only knew that she played beautifully.

The haunting melody wound like a mist through the trees, subtle but unmistakable, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl as she sat on the fallen tree trunk. Joyce Warren. Her back was straight, the violin majestic, the strings taut, her fingers moving with an ease that belied years of practice. She was not only good, she was exceptional. If I hadn’t seen her, the melodies alone would have crept into my ears, I would have thought the tune was being played from a recording, or by an old master.

The forest around her seemed to hold its breath, as if the whole world was silent. I leaned against a tree, just far enough away to avoid breaking into her fortress of solitude. The moonlight filtered through the branches, caught her fiery red hair, and highlighted the faint furrow of concentration on her forehead. She was red, too, but she couldn’t compare to Victoria. Her hair was curly, but it didn’t stand out like the vampire’s, it seemed light, soft, and smooth. It fell in pleasant waves over her shoulders and hung down to her waist.

I didn’t know the piece she was playing, but it was fast, chaotic, and lively. It somehow suited her. From what little I knew of Joyce, she seemed to be a woman of contradictions – one moment a troublemaker, the next brilliant and self-absorbed.

When the last note hung in the air, it fell silent, and she let out a long breath as she leaned back and stretched out her arm. The violin hung loosely in her hand, her other arm reaching across her torso behind her.

She hadn’t seen me yet. Not surprising, considering how quiet I had been, but I didn’t want to scare her.

“Nice,” I finally said, and stepped out into the clearing. I couldn’t help it, I wanted to talk to her even though I had promised myself I wouldn’t. I was too curious.

She flinched and her head snapped toward me. Her eyes, dark and sharp, narrowed,

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked softly, rising from the tree trunk.

“Long enough to know you’re really good at this stuff,” I shrugged.

“Thanks, I guess,” she said, though her tone made it clear she wasn’t entirely pleased with the compliment. “Did you follow me?”

“Not on purpose,” I said, grinning a little. “I heard the music and I was curious. I didn’t expect to find anyone playing Beethoven or whatever it was.”

“It wasn’t Beethoven,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s Tchaikovsky. Violin Concerto in D major. And I didn’t expect an audience, so maybe next time you don’t sneak up behind people in the middle of the woods.”

I laughed. She wasn’t wrong – it probably wasn’t the best way to introduce myself.

“That’s fair. But hey, you have to admit, it’s not every day you find someone playing classical music under the stars.”

Joyce tilted her head to the side, studying me. She didn’t seem scared, or even particularly annoyed, just curious.

“You’re one of them, right?”

“Whose?” I raised my eyebrows.

“The Cullens,” she said. “The same pale, seemingly perfect look. And you have Edward’s… strange aura about you, so to speak.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Strange aura, huh? I have to tell him you said that, you know?” I grinned, walking closer to her.

She smiled.

“You can do it if you want. But that still makes me right.”

“There’s something in it,” I chuckled. “I’m Emmett, by the way,” I said, nodding to her.

“Joyce,” she replied, although I already knew her name, but she couldn’t have known it.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. She didn’t seem like the type to be uncomfortable in silence. She just stood there in front of me, gripping the neck of her violin, looking at me as if I were some kind of puzzle she hadn’t yet decided was worth her attention and time to solve.

“Do you play anything else?” I asked after a moment.

“I tried the piano and guitar when I was a kid,” she said. “But the violin is my favorite. Why, are you thinking about starting a band?”

“Maybe,” I joked. “But I have to learn to play an instrument first. I’ve never really been into music.”

She frowned, as if the very idea of not doing music was incomprehensible.

“What do you mean you are not into music?” Everyone likes music.

“I like music, too,” I said. “I just never learned to play anything. It’s not really my style. I just listen, I don’t practice.”

Joyce looked at me as if she didn’t believe me for a moment, but she didn’t pursue the subject. Instead, she put her violin back in its case, her movements careful and precise.

“So,” she said, closing the case. “Do you always walk alone in the woods at night, or is this a one-time thing?”

“I could ask the same thing,” I said, grinning. “It’s not exactly safe, you know. There are wolves here.”

“Wolves don’t scare me,” she said, straightening up, then slung the violin case over her shoulder. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

I hesitated. I couldn’t answer honestly, because then I would have had to tell her who we were and that we had been hunting another kind of our own that night. I barely knew her, so how could I be honest? I was clearly lying.

“Sometimes I need silence,” I finally said. “And the woods are quiet. It helps clear my head.”

Joyce nodded as if she understood. As if she really understood and felt everything I was thinking.

“Yes. Me too. It feels familiar.”

She started back into town, but after a few steps she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

“Are you coming, or are you going to stand there all night?”

I blinked in surprise. Did she really invite me now?

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re one of the Cullens,” she said. “And you seem pretty cool. I saw you at school. Besides, if you were some kind of psychopath, I think I’d be dead by now, right?”

I laughed again, shaking my head.

“True.”

I followed, keeping my pace easy as she moved through the trees. She didn’t say much, and I didn’t force it. Something about Joyce made me wary – I couldn’t get a handle on her, there were too many contradictions about her, and I barely knew her. She didn’t look like the people who lived in Forks, or the people who had come here. Most were quiet, withdrawn, or if loud, a little gray. But not her. She was colorful and indecipherable, and something told me she might be a troublemaker.

When we reached the edge of town, she stopped and turned to me.

“Well, that’s where I live,” she said, motioning toward a small house on Lupine Avenue.

“Goodbye, Joyce,” I nodded.

She smiled faintly and started down the street, and I stood in the light of a lamppost watching her go. From afar, I could see that she wasn’t going in through the door. She went around the house and climbed in through a slightly open window. Well, of course she snuck out. I couldn’t help but chuckle at what I saw.

I arrived home just as the sun was rising, painting the sky with deep purples and oranges. From the outside, the Cullen house looked as peaceful and inviting as ever – the large windows softly lit, surrounded by towering evergreens. But inside, I heard a familiar mix of activity.

Alice’s soft laughter floated in through the open front door, followed by Jasper’s deeper, amused chuckle. Yulianna and Carlisle were humming in the kitchen, their voices low and affectionate. Rosalie’s movements were deliberate and measured upstairs.

I entered, and Alice immediately spun around and grinned at me.

“You’re late,” she said, crossing her arms in mock disapproval.

“I didn’t realize I was on a schedule,” I shot back, grinning.

“You’re not,” Jasper interjected, leaning back casually on the couch. “She’s just mad because you left out the part where I beat her at chess.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t beat me. It was a stalemate, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Jasper said, grinning as he walked past her.

Carlisle appeared in the kitchen doorway, Yulianna beside him. Her calm demeanor was the same as always, but there was a glint of concern in her golden eyes.

“Emmett,” she said. “How are you feeling… after everything?”

She didn’t have to elaborate; we all knew what she meant.

“I’m fine,” I said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with a vampire like Victoria, and it won’t be the last.”

“But this isn’t just about Victoria, is it?” Yulianna asked, her voice gentle but firm. “The wolves… that’s the part I’m worried about. You know what I mean.”

I shrugged, trying to act as if I was actually neutral.

“It wasn’t something we couldn’t handle. Of course they’re protecting their territory.”

“And yet you wanted to cross the line,” Carlisle said sharply.

“It wasn’t intentional,” I replied quickly. “Things happened quickly. I could have caught Victoria, that’s all,” I pointed. “If that wolf hadn’t been there…”

“But it was there,” Yulianna said quietly. “To them, it must have looked like you were trespassing.”

“But it wasn’t!” I insisted. Anger welled up inside me at the wolves. They were smelly, violent creatures, and they would only make the chase more difficult, despite our agreement to cooperate.

“Emmett!” Carlisle said suddenly. “Enough.” His voice was soft, kind, and not the least bit angry, but I could hear the warning in it.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

“Okay. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” Carlisle said, his expression softening. “We’re making good progress here, Emmett. One wrong move and this could turn into open conflict. We can’t afford that.”

I nodded, though the thought of tiptoeing around the wolves’ fragile egos still irritated me. It wasn’t that I hated them – I didn’t particularly care about their pack, and I didn’t have a problem with their devotion to their land. But the constant tension they caused was downright frustrating.

Chapter Text

The morning in Forks was colder than I had expected, a damp chill creeping under my coat as I trudged through the parking lot toward the high school. The overcast skies and ever-present drizzle were starting to feel less like a weather pattern and more like a personality trait of the place. It wasn’t New Orleans, that’s for sure. It was barely ten degrees here, while back home it was already approaching twenty-five at this time. But despite the gloom, I felt better today – less like an outsider.

I slung my bag over one shoulder and entered the building, the heat of the heater spreading across my face as the door closed. Students were bustling around the halls, chatting and laughing as they shuffled between lockers. I headed for my assigned room, which was down a long, slightly claustrophobic hallway on the east side of the building.

I entered a few minutes before class started, and yet the room was mostly empty, save for a few students already seated, flipping through their notebooks or staring at their phones. The teacher, Mr. Jefferson, was standing at the blackboard, writing down the day’s topic in neat block letters: Civic Engagement and the Role of Local Government.

I sat down at one of the far tables, near the center of the room, close enough to see the blackboard but not so close that I drew attention to myself. I took out my notebook and tapped my pen absentmindedly on the edge of my desk, my mind wandering. Government wasn’t exactly my favorite topic, but it didn’t disgust me either. And as long as I could stay out of the spotlight, I figured I could get through the semester with ease.

A few minutes later the bell rang, and the other students filed in. I recognized most of their faces by now, but I couldn’t say I’d spoken to any of them for more than a few seconds. Forks was small, and everyone already had their own friends, and I was new here. Breaking into this already established community felt a bit like trying to scale a glass wall.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr. Jefferson said, turning away from the board. He adjusted his glasses and held up a piece of paper, which he would later read. “We’re going to be working on a little project today in pairs. I’ve already assigned partners, so pay attention.”

A wave of groans swept through the class, and I couldn’t help but smile. Pre-assigned partners. Classic teacher move. I wasn’t exactly on good terms with anyone anyway, so I didn’t care who I got.

He started reading the names, and as he went down the list, I kept scanning the room, wondering who I’d be paired with. I listened hesitantly, mentally preparing myself for the possibility of being paired with someone I had never spoken to.

“Joyce Warren,” he said, looking up. “You’re going to be working with Bella Swan.”

I blinked, a little surprised. Bella Swan. I’d heard her name before – people talked about her as if she were some kind of mystery. The new girl was from Arizona, dating Edward Cullen, and apparently not the type to fit in easily, yet everyone knew her.

Bella looked at me from her seat by the window, her expression neutral but not unfriendly. There was a quiet energy about her, as if she wasn’t in a hurry to prove anything to anyone. When our eyes met, she nodded slightly, and I nodded back. She was the girl who had spoken in literature class.

“Okay,” Mr. Jefferson said, when he reached the end of the list. “Here’s the assignment: each pair chooses a local issue. Something that affects our community, and examines how citizens and government officials have addressed it. You’re due to present your findings to the class next week.”

He handed out a piece of paper with more details on it, and I glanced at it as he continued.

“Try to pick something relevant and interesting,” he said. “And remember, this is about civic engagement. It’s about how people participate in their communities. Don’t just present the problem, but also find a possible solution.”

When he was done, everyone stood up to change seats and sit next to their partners. As Bella stood up and walked to the empty seat next to me, I stood still and waited. She moved as if she didn’t like unnecessary attention, but there was a calmness about her that I immediately liked.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Joyce, right?”

“Yes,” I said, offering her a faint smile. “You’re Bella.”

“Yes. We had literature class together,” she said, and I nodded. She sat down next to me and pointed to the paper. “It looks like we’ve been put on a team.”

“It could be worse,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “You don’t seem like the type to make me do all the work.”

Bella raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Same.”

I chuckled and motioned for her to get started. She took out her notebook, set it on the table, and opened it.

“So,” she said, touching pen to paper. “Do you have any ideas for our topic?”

I tilted my head to the side, thinking.

“Not yet. But I think we can think a little. What’s going on in Forks? Is there anything worth digging into?”

Bella shrugged, her gaze straying to the window.

“Not much, honestly. It’s pretty quiet here. But maybe that’s the point. Small towns have their own problems: zoning, logging, that sort of thing.”

“Logging,” I repeated, and thought about it. “That’s a start, right? The whole town is surrounded by forest. It could be interesting.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But it’s… predictable, isn’t it?”

I nodded, acknowledging that she wasn’t looking for the easiest way.

“You’re right. How about something more specific? Like, I don’t know… access to public transportation?”

She smiled faintly.

“In Forks? Public transportation is practically nonexistent.”

“Exactly,” I said, grinning. “That’s the problem. How do people without cars get around? What happens when they have to commute to work or school?”

Bella tilted her head thoughtfully.

“You know, this could actually work. It’s relevant, and it’s about civic engagement.”

“Cool,” I nodded, jotting down the idea in my notebook. “Then let’s start with that. Public transportation in Forks, or the lack thereof.”

“Sounds good,” Bella said, leaning back in her chair.

Over the next twenty minutes, we worked out a rough outline for our research. Bella was smart, thoughtful, and organized, the kind of person who didn’t say much, but when she did, what she said was important. She asked good questions and was open to my ideas rather than trying to take over.

By the time class was over, I felt like we had made some serious progress. When the bell rang and everyone started packing up, Bella looked at me with a serious but kind expression.

“You’re so easy to work with,” she said.

“You too,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Maybe we can really do this well.”

She chuckled softly.

“Let’s hope so. We’ll meet up sometime tomorrow to continue? After school, maybe?”

“Okay,” I agreed. We exchanged phone numbers and arranged a meeting place, and then we both hurried to our next class.

As Bella left the room, I couldn’t help but feel like I had made my first real connection with someone, something that more closely resembled friendship. Bella Swan wasn’t what I expected – not that I expected much – but I liked her. She was down-to-earth, smart, and easy to talk to. She seemed so much more real than the others here.

Maybe Forks wasn’t so bad after all.

By the time I got home that afternoon, the drizzle had died down, leaving a patchy gray sky that seemed more lifeless than ever. I threw my bag on the couch and collapsed next to it, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, almost unsettling, and the absence of sounds stung. Silence was never a part of everyday life back home in New Orleans. There was always something – music through the open windows, the sound of my neighbor shouting across the street, laughter from the bars and clubs.

But here? Dead silence.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through channels without really paying attention to what I was watching. The same boring sitcoms and reality shows. None of them held my attention. My fingers itched to do something – anything – but nothing seemed worth the effort. I could practice my violin, but even that felt boring. No impulse was there. What I needed was movement. People. Noise.

I got up and rummaged through the refrigerator in the kitchen. Leftover pasta, a few apples, and half a carton of milk. Nothing exciting. I closed the refrigerator and leaned against the counter, my fingers tapping impatiently.

My days and nights in New Orleans were never so dull. There was always a party somewhere – a club pulsating with music, a house party that spilled out into the street, a bar where the drinks flowed and the conversation was just as intoxicating. I wasn’t the kind of girl who sat around waiting for life to happen, for things to go on without me. I went out, I grabbed it, I made life my own. And right now, it felt like life in Forks was in slow motion. It made my skin itch.

And then I thought of Port Angeles. I’d heard in school that young people used to go there to shop, to see movies, and to party if they wanted to.

It wasn’t New Orleans, but it was something. It was a bigger city where I could find hustle and bustle and life. If I could get back even a little bit of what I missed so much, I couldn’t miss it.

I went to my room and rummaged through my closet for something decent to wear. Most of my wardrobe was new for protection against the cold, but I found a black leather jacket and ripped jeans that seemed adequate. I paired them with a red top and my favorite high-heeled boots and took a quick look in the mirror. My curls were still a little messy from the rain earlier, but I didn’t look bad. I looked like my old self – someone who didn’t sit still, who didn’t fade into the background.

I caught the last bus and headed toward Port Angeles – the sky was already darkening by then. The trees on either side of the road rose higher in the fading light, their shadows hugging me as I sped past them. The drive was longer than I’d thought, but I didn’t mind. The closer I got to Port Angeles, the more I felt the energy shift. Streetlights replaced the endless forest, and the buzz of city life crept into the back of my mind.

When I finally got into town, I got off the bus and headed for a bunch of bars and clubs, neon signs flashing in the humid air. From somewhere nearby, I heard the faint throb of bass, and it made my heart race. This was it – exactly what I needed.

I didn’t even think about the bus, the people I was riding with, or my family, whom I hadn’t told where I was going, I just walked toward the sound, following it to a brick building with people lined up outside. The bouncer barely glanced at me as I entered, the smell of alcohol and sweat hitting me like a wave. The music was loud, pounding in my chest, and the dance floor was full of bodies moving in sync with the beat. It wasn’t like home, but it felt like it, and it was all I could get at the moment.

I pushed through the crowd and headed for the bar first. The bartender, a woman with dyed blue hair and a piercing in her eyebrow, raised her eyebrows as I leaned against the bar.

“What do you want?”

“Whiskey, neat, and a long drink, like a cocktail. Here you go,” I said, sliding a little cash across the counter.

She smiled and slid the drinks toward me when she was done. I downed the whiskey in one motion, the searing heat spreading like fire through my chest and settling in my stomach. It felt so good – like home.

The music changed to something faster, and I found myself drawn to the dance floor. The crowd was a mix of locals and college kids, their faces blurred as I got lost in the movement. The bass pounded in time with my heartbeat, and for the first time since arriving in Forks, I felt alive. My drink was running out quickly, and I just kept dancing.

I didn’t feel the time pass, but I didn’t care. I lived song by song, and the tension that had been eating away at me since I left New Orleans was dissolving. This was me – wild, reckless, and free.

At some point, I found myself at the bar, taking a new sip of whiskey, and lighting a cigarette. The bartender gave me a disapproving look, but said nothing. I blew out the smoke and leaned against the bar, watching the crowd. I wasn’t supposed to smoke inside, but I’d had enough to drink by then, and the mix of alcohol, smoke machine fumes, and sweat all overpowered the smell of cigarettes. A group of girls were laughing near the entrance, a couple was hanging out in the corner, and a guy was trying – and failing – to impress someone with his dance moves.

It wasn’t New Orleans, but it was enough to relax after a lot of drinks.

I turned my attention back to my current drink, savoring the burn as the alcohol slid down my throat. The night was still young, and I had no intention of going home anytime soon.

I danced, jumped, spun, and turned, bodies pressed against me, and I didn’t care who they were.

I didn’t look at my phone until hours later, when I stumbled out onto the street in a group of cigarette smokers. I got a dozen messages and even more calls that I ignored in the noise, including from my parents. Are they called my parents?!

"What's wrong?" a voice said. I must have grimaced.

"I'm asking this time in all seriousness. Are you following me, Cullen?"

Chapter Text

I left the club and stared at my phone, it was full of messages and missed calls. My parents, my uncle, even my friends back home — everyone wanted to know where I was. As if I was going to answer right now… The crisp night air hit me, sobering me up enough to realize how late it was.

“Are you okay?”

The voice startled me, and I looked up quickly. There he was again — Emmett Cullen. He was standing there, leaning casually against a lamppost that flickered ominously in the darkness.

“I’m serious now,” I said, sighing in relief that it wasn’t a stranger calling out to me. “Are you following me, Cullen?”

He smiled, straightened up, and slowly walked toward me.

“Not exactly. Let’s just say that you have a talent for showing up in places you probably shouldn’t.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. I was really drunk. I lost count of how many drinks I had, but I felt like my head was pounding, It was hard to stand on my feet, and everything was so easy, like I had no problems at all. I was just living for this night now, not thinking about the consequences or the circumstances. I was dizzy.

"I'm okay, okay? It's just a little late."

"Late?" he repeated, casting a piercing glance at the deserted street. "It looks more like early morning."

I couldn't argue with that, so I just shrugged.

"I'll call a cab or something."

"Yeah? Good luck with that," he snorted. "It's four in the morning, Joyce. This is Port Angeles, not a big city. If you can catch a cab at this time, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat," I grinned at him.

“I’ll get one,” he returned the gesture.

His golden eyes sparkled with amusement, and I hated having to admit he was right. I sighed, crossing my arms.

“What’s the point of this all?”

“The point,” he said, stepping closer, “is that I’m offering you a ride. There’s nothing special or strange in this, just a ride. You can even play the violin in the back seat if you want.”

“Do I look like someone with a violin, Cullen?” I grinned.

“Then you can hum whatever you’d play if you had an instrument.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And you’re still here with me,” he pointed out, his voice laced with easy charm.

I hesitated, looking around the empty street. I really didn’t want to wait here alone, and the thought of getting into a stranger’s car — because even though we’d spoken once, Emmett was still a stranger — was the last option that crossed my mind. But Emmett didn’t seem like he saw me as a stranger. He acted like an acquaintance, in a way I couldn’t explain.

“Okay,” I finally said, sighing. “But if this turns into some kind of horror movie situation, I’ll blame you.”

“I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as he opened the passenger door for me. “Jump in.”

The ride was quiet at first, but the soft hum of the Jeep’s engine filled the silence. I stared out the window and watched the streetlights turn into yellow streaks.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Clubs and classical music. Not the combination I expected you to be.”

“Why, what did you expect me to do, just play the violin and keep quiet at school?”

“Not at all,” he said quickly. “You’re just… unpredictable, that’s all.”

“Unpredictable, how?” I asked, glancing at him.

He shrugged, resting one hand on the steering wheel.

“Most people stick to one thing. You aren’t a stereotype. One minute you’re listening to rock, the next you’re playing classical music in the woods, and then I’ll see you in Port Angeles, coming out of a club drunk. That’s cool.”

For some reason, I smiled at his words. I didn’t realized at the time, but I really should have wondered how he knew what kind of music I listened to.

“Well, don’t get too excited. I’m just trying to survive Forks without losing my mind.”

He laughed in a deep, booming voice that filled the car.

“Nice. So, what’s the verdict?”

“About Forks?” I asked, and he nodded. “Pretty…quiet,” I admitted. “Too quiet for me, honestly. There’s always something going on back home: music, food, people everywhere. It’s like Forks closes at nine. Or earlier.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “But hey, it’s not that bad. There’s forests, rain…”

“You’re serious about marketing, Cullen,” I glanced at him. He grinned.

“I’m just saying, it’s all up to you. Give it time.”

By the time we pulled up to our house, the first rays of dawn were creeping up the horizon, painting the sky soft shades of pink and orange.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “ You shouldn't have done that.”

“I’d be happy to,” he said lightly. “You can’t just wander the streets of Port Angeles alone. Bad things happen there sometimes.”

“Like? Mysterious guys offering rides to random girls?”

He laughed, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Exactly.”

I shook my head and climbed out of the Jeep, but before I could close the door, I hesitated and turned back to face him.

“But why did you do it? Seriously.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. Then he leaned back in the seat, his expression softening.

“Because you seemed to need it. That’s all.”

His honesty caught me by surprise, and I found myself nodding, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Good night, Cullen,” I said, stepping back.

“Night, Joyce,” he called after me. “And you can call me Emmett.”

I could still see him wink at me and then drive away.

I stood on the porch, watching the Jeep disappear down the street. I had barely closed the door behind me when I heard the sharp click of a light switch. I froze, my hand still on the doorknob. Matthew stood in the hallway with his arms folded, a mixture of relief and irritation playing on his face. Behind him, Carol entered the room, her expression darker and sterner than my uncle’s.

“Where the hell have you been?” Matthew’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

I sighed, kicked off my shoes, and set them aside without looking him in the eye. I almost lost my balance, but I managed to hold myself by leaning against the wall. I was still drunk and dizzy.

“I was just out.”

“Out?” Carol’s voice snapped angrily. “Where exactly? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“It’s no big deal. I’m home now, right?” I groaned, heading for my room.

“Oh, this is a big deal,” Matthew snapped, stepping in front of me to block my path. “You didn’t tell anyone where you were going, Joyce. We called, we texted…”

“I saw it,” I interrupted, holding up my phone. “You didn’t have to blow up my phone like that. I wasn’t in trouble.”

“You didn’t answer!” Carol’s voice rose slightly, dripping with disappointment. “We had no idea where you were or if you were safe. You just disappeared without a word. Do you think that’s okay?”

I clenched my jaw, the exhaustion of the night catching up with me. I felt like I could pass out standing up at any moment, or collapse if I couldn’t get to bed.

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’m seventeen. I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not the point,” Matthew said, growing increasingly nervous. “You live in our house, Joyce. You owe us some basic respect, like letting us know where you are!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Respect? Really? Is this about respect or control?”

Carol’s eyes lit up.

“Watch your words.”

“Oh, please,” I snapped back. “You’re not my parents. Don’t pretend you are!”

The words hung heavy and sharp in the air. Carol’s face paled, and Matthew’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You think we’re doing this to control you?” Carol asked, her voice trembling slightly with anger. “You think we’re doing this for fun? We’re trying to protect you, Joyce. Because whether you like it or not, you’re still a child and you live with us!”

“I’m not a child!” I shouted back, my voice echoing through the house. “And I don’t need your protection. I didn’t ask to come here, okay? I didn’t ask for any of this,” I gestured around, as if the house represented the entire situation my parents had gotten us into.

Matthew’s expression darkened, and for a moment I thought he was going to yell at me. But instead he took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm.

“We understand this is hard for you. But this isn’t New Orleans. This isn’t the life you’re used to. And you need to start respecting the rules of this house, or…”

“Or what?” I snapped. “Are you going to kick me out? Let’s do it, kick me out! It’s not like I want to be here. Forks is a punishment. I didn’t do anything wrong, but here I am, stuck in the middle of nowhere with people who don’t want to be around me.”

“Enough!” Matthew's voice thundered and silenced me

The house fell silent, the only sound was the ticking of the clock in the living room. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my hands shaking slightly at my sides.

"We're not your parents," Carol finally said, her voice cold and firm. "But we are your family. And we're going to do everything we can to make this work. If that's not good enough for you, that's your problem. But you're not going to stand here again and disrespect us. You have to tell us where you're going and who you're going with. We have to know what's going on with you, because your parents entrusted us with your care, and it's our responsibility to make sure you're okay, you understand?"

Tears burned in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall down my face. The pent-up tension was building inside me – I was terribly afraid that it would burst out of me, because I knew myself well enough to know that if it did, I would scream and break things. I hated being like this, but I couldn't help it. The suppressed anger burst out of me in a growling cry, and ignoring them, I pushed Matthew's shoulder slightly and stormed past them, slamming the bedroom door behind me.

I threw myself onto the bed and I buried my face in my pillow as the tears finally came out. I hated this. I hated Forks, the rain, the silence, the way everything felt so suffocating. I hated that my parents had sent me here, and that they thought I couldn’t handle being alone.

And most of all, I hated that Carol and Matthew were right.

They weren’t my parents, but they tried. They opened their home to me, gave me a place to stay when I needed it. They could have said no, but they didn’t. And how did I repay them? By yelling at them, running away, and coming home at four in the morning and I was stinking of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol.

I groaned, turned on my back, and stared at the ceiling. This was not who I wanted to be, but I didn’t know how to change.

I had no idea when I’d fallen asleep, but morning came too soon. I woke up to a banging on my door, shouting that I had ten minutes to get ready. I had to go to school despite everything that had happened yesterday. Or rather, this morning. Damn. My head was pounding, my eyes and limbs hurt, and I felt like my body was made of lead. I couldn’t get up. Another bang.

“I’m going!” I shouted back in a hoarse voice. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. Shit. I felt incredibly sick.

I could only sit up with a loud groan. I was still wearing the clothes I had worn yesterday. I had barely slept for two hours. I changed into jeans and an oversized T-shirt. I laced up my boots and headed out without brushing my hair, brushing my teeth, or applying makeup, with the hood of my sweatshirt pulled over my head, after throwing my toothbrush and toothpaste into my bag. I walked silently through the house and got into the car behind my cousins, half-lying down. I didn’t speak to them, and they didn’t speak to me, which I was ironically grateful for. I must have fallen asleep on the way to school because a few blinks later we were there. My fellow passengers left me alone as soon as we got out of the car — I had a feeling that the early morning argument had completely burned my bridges with them. They must have woken up to the shouting, since we weren’t quiet and didn’t take the slightest care not to wake the twins.

After the first class I brushed my teeth in the girls’ bathroom, and the classes passed at a snail’s pace. Exceptionally, I took a seat in the last row by the window and didn't pay any attention. I slept with my eyes open, and during breaks I wore sunglasses to protect myself from the light of the neon lights, even though the rain was starting again outside and everything was dark gray.

Before I realized it was lunchtime. Thinking about food made me nauseous, so I didn't even try to eat. I sat alone at my usual table, hooded and sunglasses on, and I leaned down on the table and closed my eyes to sleep for a few minutes until the next bell rang. I listened to the hustle and bustle of the others, their mingled voices, which now had a calming effect on me like white noise.

Suddenly I heard a noice next to me and I raised my head quickly.

"Oh, it's just you..." I muttered and my head fell back onto the table. He laughed.

"You're hungover” he giggled, throwing his hand on the back of my chair.

"How come you're not even tired?” I groaned.

"That's my superpower” he replied.

"Give me this power too.”

"I can't, you are just a mere mortal, you need to sleep” he said, and I could tell he was having fun. Fuck him. I voiced my displeasure with a groan.

"Tell my uncle who ordered me to school this morning” I muttered, and I spoke so quiet I wasn't sure he could hear me but he answered.

"That really wasn't nice.” In his voice, I could hear him grinning. I obviously didn't mean it, but at that moment I really hated him. "How do you handle classes?”

"I don't hear anything from them” I replied dryly. "I'm going to die.”

"You're not going to die,” he laughed again. Yes, I definitely hated him in these moments.

"I look like trash." I snapped, and I straightened up to look at him. There were no dark circles under his eyes, his face was smooth, he looked fit, and he was in a good mood.

"Come on," he nodded his head to the side.

"Where?" I asked, my voice almost hysterical. I didn't want to go anywhere, I just wanted to sleep.

"My stepfather works at the hospital, we'll get you something that will make you feel better," he stroked my back. His touch was hard and cold.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

"Do you feel like shit?"

"Yes," I sighed.

"You look like shit," he grinned.

"Do you really think I look shit?" I snorted.

"Right now?" he looked straight into my face. "Yes. Don’t take it personally.”

“Shut up, Cullen,” the corner of my mouth twitched.

“Come on, you party animal,” he put his arm around me and pulled me up from the chair.

I let him lead me, and soon I was in his Jeep, closing my eyes to try to relieve my headache and it helped a little.

The fluorescent lights of Forks Hospital cast a pale glow on the linoleum floor, it’s hummed barely audible above the soft murmur of voices and the occasional squeak of nurses’ shoes. The building was modest, a stark contrast to the sprawling medical centers in larger cities, but it had a quiet competence. Patients sat in the small waiting room, leafing through old magazines or watching the rain streak through the window. Behind the reception desk the staff moved with practiced efficiency, their calm demeanor soothing the worried faces around them.

I struggled to move my legs, but Emmett and I walked together, and he sat me down on a bed in an empty room, then left me alone. I couldn’t stand it: the bed was too inviting, so I had to lie down on it. I sank down on it with a groan, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, the buzzing subsided, and then I closed my eyes and turned on my side. The pounding in my head stopped, my muscles relaxed in gratitude, and I sighed in relief.

I only opened my eyes when someone touched my arm. I looked up at a nurse who smiled kindly at me when she saw that I’m awake.

“Hello there,” she said in a steady, soft voice. “Dr. Cullen asked me to give you an infusion. It has vitamins and painkillers in it. It will help,” she promised.

She sprayed a cold liquid into the crook of my elbow, wiped it off, and finally inserted the cannula that contained the infusion. I closed my eyes and let sleep overwhelm me. I finally felt calm, and at peace.

I didn’t know then that this was my last peaceful day.

Chapter Text

Joyce walked out from the hospital, her energy completely different from that person I'd brought into the emergency department a few hours earlier. The infusion of vitamins and painkillers had clearly done its job, banishing the pallor from her skin and breathing life into her. Her red hair stood out against the twilight of the overcast sky and the gray of the buildings, her movements so lively now that I couldn't reconcile her with the quiet, hungover girl she had been this morning.

"Well, that was dramatic," she said, looking at me with a wry smile. "Thanks for helping me. You shouldn't have, you know..."

"You seemed to need help. And you are a terrible patient," I shrugged, can't help but grin.

She laughed, her voice light and melodious.

"Yes, yes. I admit, I wasn't my best self before. Seriously, Cullen, thanks for not leaving me there. You've earned about a thousand karma points today.

"It's good to know I'm accumulating good karma," I said, grinning as we walked down the sidewalk. "But just to be clear, I didn't want to leave you alone. It looked like you might pass out at any moment."

"It wasn't that bad," she protested, though her smile told me she was just teasing.

"Oh, no," I said. "I thought you were going to cause a full-blown zombie apocalypse."

She playfully elbowed me in the side, and I laughed, trying to pretend I felt more than a mosquito bite. It was easy to be around her, easier than I expected.

The walk from the hospital to Lupine Avenue wasn't short, but Forks wasn't exactly a bustling metropolis, so the streets were quiet. A few cars passed us, their headlights cutting through the gray, drizzly afternoon, but it was mostly just the two of us. Joyce was in a chatty mood, and her energy was infectious.

"So," she began, reaching into her jacket pocket. "You're always so calm. I've never seen you upset, or, I don't know, aren't you stressed about something?"

"Upset?" I repeated, grinning. "Not really my style. And the stress thing... rarely does anything get into my head enough to make me stress about it."

"No way!" she grinned. "You've seen me with a terrible hangover, you need to give me something to even the score. What's your weakness? Or are you really a superhero and nothing can hurt you?"

"I'm not a superhero," I said, glancing at her. "Let's just say I've had time to figure out what's worth stressing about and what's not."

"Hmm," she mused, her voice teasing. "You sound mysterious, you're hardly tell me anything about yourself. You're not secretly under witness protection or anything, are you?"

"Definitely not. But nice try," I laughed.

"Okay, okay," she said, tilting her head to the side as she studied me. "So what's your secret? How do you always stay so... calm?"

I thought for a moment, wondering how to respond.

"I guess I just focus on what I can control. There's no point in worrying about what you can't change, right?"

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.

"It makes sense. I could probably use that wisdom. I'm kind of an overthinker. I can stress about everything, like what I'm going to wear to school the next day."

"Really? You don't seem like the overthinking type," I replied.

"Oh, I'm a real mess," she admitted with a laugh. "But I've learned to hide it pretty well. Confidence is all about pretending everything's fine until it's not."

"Good tactic," I said, nodding in agreement.

As we walked, the conversation naturally drifted from one topic to another. She asked about Forks, and I told her about the quirks of the small town, blurring out the parts of my life that weren't exactly... shareable.

"You've been here a while, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, a few years," I said.

"And do you still like it? Isn't it boring?"

"It's quiet, of course, but that's not always a bad thing," I shrugged. "There's something nice about not having too much going on. It gives you time to think."

"Hmm," she said doubtfully. "I'm not sure I'm made for quiet. I get restless too easily. There was always something going on in New Orleans: music, festivals, parties... I felt like the city was alive, you know? After that, this little gray hole... It's like you've rubbed all the colors out of a crayon."

I glanced at her and noticed the way her eyes lit up when she talked about New Orleans.

"You miss it, don't you?"

"All the time," she admitted. "But Forks isn't that bad. You have to get used to the rain. I get sick of the constant grayness and the rain. Can you ever get used to it?"

"I don't know, I like it," I said. "The rain is soothing, at least it is to me."

"Soothing? Says the guy who probably doesn't have to deal with frizzy hair every time the air is humid. Of course it rained at home too, that's not my problem, it's the fact that it rains all the time here, the sun never shines, and I'm so sick of clouds!"

"Okay, you win, boss, I understand." I grinned, raising my hand defensively.

We passed a small park, the swings swaying slightly in the breeze. Joyce glanced at them, then back at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"A race to the swings?" She asked suddenly.

"Seriously?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Come on," she said, and started running toward the swings. "Or are you afraid you'll lose?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I followed her.

"I'll defeat you!"

She reached the swings first, laughing breathlessly as she fell onto one and began to swing. Of course, I could have beaten her, but the secret of my vampirism was more important than that, and I slowed down at a human pace only to impress her. I sat down on the swing next to her and held onto the chain, watching her. She pushed herself off the ground and flew higher and higher.

"That's ridiculous," I said, but I couldn't stop smiling.

"It's ridiculously fun," she corrected, grinning at me. "Come on, live a little!"

I gave in and pushed the swing until I caught up with her high up. It was a stupid, impulsive moment, but it felt good — and normal, which I sometimes missed.

When we finally left the park, the sky was starting to darken, the rain turning to a light mist. Joyce looked up at the sky with a wistful expression.

"Have you ever thought about what you would do if you could go anywhere?" she asked suddenly.

"Anywhere?" I repeated.

"Yes," she said. "Like, if money and time were no problem. If all obstacles were gone, where would you go?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"I don't know. Maybe somewhere far away, like Alaska. Or maybe somewhere historic, like Rome."

She smiled.

"Rome, huh? A bit of a cliché."

"What about you?" I asked.

"Simple," she said. "Somewhere Latin. The lights, the energy, the music, the dancing... I'd go somewhere that's... alive at first glance."

"It sounds like you're really drawn to places like that. The party, the music...," I said.

"Because I am," she said, her smile widening. "Maybe one day I'll actually get to a place like that. You know, I grew up in a place like that, it's natural for me, and I love it. I can't let it go. The truth is, I have no idea why you're so attached to Forks. You said how great it is that you love the rain, it's always gray here. You know... I think I see that better than you do now. You can say anything, I won't accept it. Oh, and yes," she said lightly. "I won the race to the swing."

"So you're saying," I said teasingly, "that you're smarter than me. Do you think so?"

Joyce laughed again and shook her head.

"I'm saying I don't have to be smarter than you, Emmett. I just have to be faster."

"Faster, huh?" I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "You don't look like you'd beat me."

"You'd be surprised," she retorted, her voice filled with playful confidence.

I tilted my head to the side, my grin widening.

"You know, Joyce, most people don't challenge me to a race after they've met me. A bold move."

"Most people probably aren't like me," she replied, her voice softening a little.

"Well," I said more quietly, "I guess I'll have to prove you wrong."

Joyce smiled, her eyes fixed.

"I'm looking forward to it. Although I've already beaten you once, as I said on the swing. I'll beat you at reasoning and running."

I could have laughed at the irony of fate, since I could run several streets in a second or two, and she was talking about how she could run and reason. If she knew the truth... I heard a rustling in the distance, familiar movements, like when you know someone's steps so well that you recognize them without even seeing them. Someone I knew was watching. That much was certain.

"Well, we'll see," I cleared my throat and took a step back. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Good night, Cullen," she smiled, and turned to walk toward the house.

"Good night, Joyce," I said quietly, watching him walk to the door.

When Joyce disappeared in the house, I looked around. I was completely alone on the street, so I quickly turned around and ran as fast as I could toward the sound. The houses of the city flew past me, the colors merging, the air whistling in my ears.

I stopped at the hospital courtyard and found myself facing Carlisle and Yulianna. They had heard me coming, so they waited for me in the middle of the parking lot. Everyone else had already gone home, so we were alone.

"Were you two eavesdropping on me?" I grimaced at them in disbelief.

I crossed my arms and gave Carlisle and Yulianna a look that I hoped would convey my annoyance. Carlisle, a diplomat himself, smiled faintly and tilted his head to the side.

"Eavesdropping is a strong word, Emmett. We were just walking by and we saw you."

I rolled my eyes.

"And you had to stay there to watch? Like a movie?"

Standing next to him, Yulianna raised her perfectly arched eyebrows. Her golden eyes reflected the dim streetlights, and there was something sharp in her gaze, as if she wanted to talk about something deeper that I didn't feel like talking about right now.

"So, who is that human?" Yulianna asked in a casual tone, but her curiosity was clear.

"Her name is Joyce," I said evenly. "She's... someone I ran into, that's all."

Carlisle's expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"You've been spending a lot of time with her lately, we've noticed you often go out," he said gently. "Is there anything we need to know?"

"No," I said quickly. "Nothing like that. She's just... different. And before you say it, no, it's not the same as Bella and Edward. It's not like that."

Yulianna exchanged a glance with Carlisle, her expression unreadable.

"Then what it's like?" Yulianna asked immediately. "Because from where we were standing, you seemed comfortable with her. Much better than anyone else, in fact."

"And that's a crime?" I snapped back, trying not to sound defensive. "I can talk to someone without it meaning anything."

Yulianna smiled, clearly not falling for it.

"Sure, Emmett. You were just talking. That's why you walked her home and stood there like a lovesick little boy after saying goodnight."

I opened my mouth to argue with them, but Carlisle's calm but firm voice beat me to it.

"Yulianna, that's enough."

"I'm just saying what I saw. Don't be mad at me for pointing out the obvious."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Look, let's not make a big deal out of this, okay? Joyce is just a human. She doesn't know anything about us, and she never will. The story ends here. I'm just killing time, that's all."

Carlisle stepped closer, his expression softening.

"We don't mean to accuse you of anything, Emmett. But you have to understand our situation. Any time either of us spends significant time with a human, it raises questions. Concerns."

"Concerns about what? About I will reveal our secret?" I shook my head. "You know me better than that, Carlisle. I would never do anything to put us in danger."

"I know," he said gently. "But people are unpredictable. Even the smallest mistake can have consequences."

I met his gaze, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I understand, okay? You don't have to remind me. But Joyce is not like that. She's smart, sure, but she's not curious. She doesn't ask questions, and she doesn't suspect anything. Everything is okay."

Yulianna leaned against a nearby lamppost, her arms still crossed.

"You seem pretty confident about her, Emmett. Are you sure you're not underestimating her?"

I glanced at her.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," she said slowly, "that people have a way of noticing things, even when they're not looking for them. You'd be surprised how much a human notices."

"She's not like that," I said firmly. "She has her own life, her own problems. She's dealing with those. Believe me, she's not sitting over a book trying to find answers to questions about the supernatural."

Yulianna shrugged, clearly unconvinced. But Carlisle seemed to consider my words. She studied him for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," he said. "We trust you, Emmett. But be careful."

"I'll be careful," I promised. "She's just a friend. That's all."

Yulianna snorted softly, but said nothing more. I could tell she wasn't entirely convinced, but for now she seemed willing to let it go.

The three of us walked through the parking lot in silence. The air was damp and cool, with a faint smell of the rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. I could hear the faint rustling of leaves in the distance, the steady rhythm of nature that always seemed louder at night.

"So," I said finally, breaking the silence. "What are you doing here anyway? You don't usually hang out in hospital parking lots."

Yulianna smiled.

"I came to see Carlisle," she shrugged, and glanced lovingly at the man standing next to her, then patted his shoulder. The others had often said they hated it when they acted like this, but it never bothered me. I could see how happy and in love they both were, and maybe it would have been weird if they hadn't.

"We wandered around a bit," Carlisle chuckled. "Sometimes we can, too, not just you teenagers."

I couldn't help but laugh. We walked on, the conversation turning to lighter topics. Carlisle mentioned a case he was working on, and Yulianna shared a story from earlier in the week when she'd gone hiking alone in the woods, far from Forks. Yulianna had been around people for a long time, hardly a day went by without her moving, but then the instances had become rarer and now it was very rare for her to venture out among people. She'd run for hours, exploring towns and villages in the area, hiking in the mountains.

But beneath the surface, I could still feel the weight of their earlier questions hanging in the air. I knew they meant well — they'd always been like that, protecting their family. But a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that they didn't quite understand the situation. Joyce wasn't a threat, and I didn't want anything from her, I just felt a lot more normal when I was with her. She was just... Joyce.

And that was enough for now.

Chapter Text

The Cullen family was gathered in the living room late one night, the air thick with tension. Carlisle stood in the middle of the room, his usual calm demeanor looking a little tense as he explained what he had learned about Seattle. He had just gotten home from the hospital, then gone to find Yulianna, who was spending time in the woods nearby, and then called everyone together to share with us the details he had learned. It was nothing good.

"The reports coming in from Seattle are escalating," Carlisle began, addressing us all. "The disappearances are becoming more frequent, and the bodies that are turning up are... disturbing."

"Disturbing, how?" Jasper asked, his sharp gaze fixed on Carlisle. His military instincts were heightened the moment Carlisle mentioned the word 'disappearances'.

"Blood and disappearances, bodies not being found, or if they are, they are completely drained," Carlisle answered before anyone else could. "Subtly, but it's there. The police doesn't know what to do with them yet, but I've seen enough to recognize the signs."

Jasper's expression darkened.

"Newborns."

"I suspect that too," Carlisle confirmed. "The violence, the lack of control, it all fits the picture."

Rosalie, who was sitting on the arm of one of the couches, sighed heavily.

"So, what's going on? Someone is irresponsibly changing people? For what?"

"I don't know yet... It makes no sense...," Carlisle said seriously.

"Do we know who the perpetrator might be?" Alice asked in a low but focused voice. She sat next to Jasper, their arms intertwined. I always wondered why they hadn't gotten together. I thought they would be perfect together, and I wasn't alone in that, I was sure of it. Maybe Alice would have been open to it, but I couldn't have known, since we never talked about it, but Jasper was completely closed off. The vampire who could influence the emotions of others showed almost no real emotion of his own. He's always been like this. Distant.

Yulianna shook her head.

"Not yet. But this is organized, this is clear. This is not an accident."

I sat back in my chair, trying to process everything.

"So, what's the plan? We can't sit here and ignore this while a bunch of untreated vampires party next door. They're too close to Forks."

Jasper nodded in agreement.

"Having so many newborns in one place can be dangerous. They're going to burn the town like wildfire if someone doesn't intervene."

Carlisle raised his hand to reassure us.

"We don't know enough yet to act. If we do something without fully understanding who's behind it, it could make things worse. We need more information."

Rosalie sneered.

"And how exactly are we going to get more information? It's not like we just walk into Seattle and start asking questions."

Alice sat up suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she stared off into the distance. Her visions often came without warning, and when she went quiet like that, we all knew to wait.

After a few moments, she blinked and focused back on us.

"I saw... I think I saw a house. It's old, abandoned. It's near the waterfront in Seattle. They're gathering there. But it was foggy, I couldn't see who was leading them."

"Did you see how many there were?" Edward asked, who had been silent and listening to us. Because of his mind-reading ability, Edward must have seen what Alice had seen, but he asked out loud so that we would know everything, just like they did.

Alice shook her head.

"It's unclear."

"Maybe there are a lot of them... Who knows why..." Esme murmured in a worried voice. "So many in a city like Seattle... it could be disastrous."

"And not just for humans," Jasper added. "If the Volturi hear about this, they'll come here. You know how they handle these things. And they can see that Bella isn't a vampire yet."

The mention of the Volturi filled the room with unease. None of us wanted to deal with them. They were absolute and ruthless in their way of enforcing the rules of the vampire world, and the last time Edward, Bella, and Alice had visited them, they had practically spared Bella's life only because Alice had assured them that she had seen the future: Bella would be one of us. They had protected our secret from humans, and Bella knew too much. We already considered her as a family member, but that wasn't enough for the Volturi. They wanted to make sure that our secret was safe.

"What about Bella?" Esme asked, looking at Carlisle. "If the Volturi get involved... she could be in danger."

Carlisle nodded.

"We need to keep an eye on the situation in Seattle because of her, we shouldn't attract the Volturi's attention."

Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"She's safe for now. But what if they come here? That stranger's scent in Bella's room last time... did anyone figure out who it was?"

I stiffened slightly at the reminder. Edward had been furious when he'd smelled the stranger in Bella's room a few days earlier. Neither of us recognized him, and that was unsettling in itself. Vampires rarely crossed each other's territory unannounced, and whoever it was had obviously been watching Bella, because a piece of her clothing had gone missing. It couldn't be a coincidence that the Volturi demanded Bella be turned into a vampire, someone was creating newborns in the neighboring town, and a vampire broke into the Swan house, and then one of Bella's clothes disappeared, which could have served as a scent sample for those who had super-sense of smell.

"No," Carlisle admitted. "We still don't know who it was. But it was clear that a message had been sent."

"A message for Edward," Yulianna said. "Or for all of us."

"We have to assume it's connected to what happened in Seattle," Jasper said. "Even if we can't prove it."

"Great," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, there's a bunch of newborn bastards in Seattle, and some idiots are after Bella? Sounds like a perfect storm we're only seeing from afar."

"It's not hopeless," Carlisle said, his voice even and reassuring. "We've faced challenges before. But we have to be smart now. We can't make hasty decisions."

"Do we have any ideas?" Rosalie asked, clearly frustrated. "When do we have to act? How much time do we have, and how are we going to use it wisely?"

Alice hesitated before speaking.

"It's hard to say. The future is still too variable, as if decisions are constantly changing. But whatever is coming, it will happen soon."

The conversation continued for another hour, each of us weighing the situation and what we thought we should do. Jasper outlined possible strategies for dealing with the newborns. He fought in the South during the Civil War, was the youngest major in the Confederacy, and when he was turned into a vampire, he continued to fight in the vampire wars and trained and controlled a lot of newborns. Of all of us, he knew the most about newborns, and although a lot of time had passed since then, the experience he gained in the 19th century burned into him as if it were an instinctive part of his nature. Yulianna and Carlisle discussed the possibility of reaching out to other alliances for help, though the idea was quickly dismissed — trust was hard to find in the vampire world.

I mostly stayed quiet, listening to the others' arguments. Joyce kept running through my mind. I hadn't mentioned her to the family, not really. They knew I'd spent a lot of time with her, but they didn't know the details like I did. I tried to keep these memories from Edward, and I had no idea how successful I was, but he didn't bring it up.

As the discussion ended, Carlisle stood up and addressed us once more.

"We'll wait for now. Alice will keep an eye on the future, and we will keep a close eye on the situation in Seattle. But be prepared. Things could change at any moment."

Everyone nodded, though I knew no one was entirely happy with the plan. We were vampires — we weren't used to sitting back and waiting. But Carlisle was right. Acting without any knowledge would only make things worse.

As the family began to disperse, I stood in the living room, my thoughts swirling. Rosalie gave me a sharp look as she passed me.

"You've been quiet tonight," she said. "What was on your mind?"

"Nothing," I lied.

The girl snorted.

"Sure. Tell yourself that. You don't have to lie to me."

I didn't answer, and she didn't ask any more questions. She disappeared down the stairs, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I knew I could count on her if I needed her. She was measured and strict, and she teased me often, but I knew who she really was: reliable, strong, stubborn, and loyal.

The situation in Seattle was terrible. Bella's room smelled strongly of something strange. But all I could think about was Joyce. I didn't know why, but she stuck in my head like a song I had to keep humming. I shook my head, trying to focus. There were more important things to worry about now. Joyce was human. She wasn't part of this world. And it had to stay that way.

The weeks leading up to finals at Forks High passed in a blur of tension and planning. Bella was spending her time preparing for her end-of-year exams, and we were all growing increasingly worried that things were going to get tense. It wasn't long before she figured out that Victoria was the mastermind behind the newborn army being formed in Seattle. Victoria's revenge was no longer just a vague threat — she was preparing for something big, and she was targeting Bella directly.

Of course, Bella was true to herself and was far more concerned about everyone else's safety than her own. Edward was by her side, doing his best to reassure her, but we saw what Bella didn't: Edward seethed with rage and helplessness. The priority now was to prepare to eliminate the newborns and confront Victoria. Jasper, with his unique experience, took the lead in strategizing, sketching out plans that Carlisle would quietly change with his more diplomatic perspective.

Meanwhile, the world moved on as if none of this had happened. Final exams came and went. Bella was getting good grades — better than she had expected, Edward said — and the school was beginning to focus on graduation.

Then, of course, the night of the party arrived, and the Cullen house came alive with lights, music, and laughter. As usual, Alice had outdone herself, transforming the house into a party place worthy of a magazine cover. Twinkle lights hung from the rafters, casting a warm glow over the room. The tables were lined with food and drinks — most of which we hadn't touched, of course, but which were essential to the enjoyment of the human guests.

The guest list was quite long. Alice felt like she had to invite every student at Forks High, even though only half of them showed up. Joyce was one of the first to arrive, and I couldn't help but notice how easily she fit in. Of course, she was still true to herself and her conversations were superficial, encouraging others to speak up, but she shared very little about herself or her thoughts. Despite all this — or perhaps because of it — easily blended into the crowd, moving to the music, drinking from plastic cups, and laughing out loud.

She chose a vintage-inspired black dress that was tight in all the right places, and paired it with high-heeled ankle boots, leaving her leather jacket somewhere in the hallway. Her hair was in loose curls, and there was a sparkle in her eyes I'd never seen before. She had a number of bracelets on her wrists, and a number of silver rings on her fingers. She moved through the crowd as if she belonged here — as if she belonged anywhere she wanted to be.

When she saw me from across the room, she raised her eyebrows and grinned slyly.

"Well, Cullen," she said as she approached, "I have to let your sister know how great this party is."

"That's what keeps Alice alive. Organizing," I replied, crossing my arms in front of me and leaning against the wall. "You should see what she does for the holidays."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said with a grin.

Before I could answer, Alice appeared out of nowhere, practically jumping with excitement.

"Joyce! You're here!" she exclaimed, grabbing her hand.

"Of course I'm here," Joyce said, laughing. "I couldn't miss it."

"Do you know each other?" I frowned at the unexpected friendship. "I didn't know about it."

"We've met a few times in school, and we have one class together," Joyce replied, waving.

"Come, you need to meet everyone!" Alice said before I could answer and dragged her into the crowd. Joyce glanced at me quickly over her shoulder, her grin growing wider as she disappeared into the sea of people.

I shook my head and chuckled to myself. Alice had a way of making everyone feel like they were the center of the universe.

People were mingling, dancing and drinking punch, while we Cullens stood on the periphery, observing them, occasionally joining in the conversation when necessary. Bella and Edward were inseparable, of course, though Edward kept glancing toward the door, as if expecting something — or someone — to burst in at any moment.

I caught snippets of conversation as I moved around the room, most of it totally average. College plans, summer vacations, who was dating who. Normal teenage stuff. Things I hadn't thought about in decades.

Joyce, however, was anything but ordinary. She danced across the room like she owned the place, chatting effortlessly with anyone who approached her. At one point, I caught sight of her talking to Bella. They were laughing about something, and Bella seemed exceptionally calm.

"Interesting," Jasper said, suddenly appearing next to me.

"Yeah," I said, my eyes never leaving Joyce.

"She doesn't seem to be easily embarrassed," he remarked.

"No," I agreed. "And she won't hold back."

Jasper chuckled softly.

"That's rare, especially in this house, in this crowd."

At some point that evening, I stepped out onto the back porch, needing a moment of silence. The air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling in the dark sky. I leaned against the railing, closed my eyes, and let the sounds of the forest wash over me.

"You're not much of a party person, are you?"

I opened my eyes to find Joyce a few feet away, her arms crossed and a smile on her face.

"I can party when I want to," I said, grinning. "But tonight? I'm not really in the mood."

She moved closer, leaning against the railing next to me.

"Good party. Alice has style."

"Yes," I agreed.

We stood there in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the party fading behind us.

"So," she finally said, "are all family gatherings this... extravagant?"

"Only when Alice is involved," I said, laughing. "She can't help it."

Joyce chuckled softly.

"I like her. She has a kind of energy that's contagious and I really like it. I guess I'm a little bit like that too."

"She'll be really happy to hear that," I said.

"You're different, you know?" She lowered her head, then suddenly looked up at me and studied me for a long time.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You're just... not like anyone I've ever met."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I haven't decided yet." She grinned.

The terrace stretched out into the still night, the muffled sounds of the graduation party echoing through the walls behind us. Joyce leaned against the railing, her fingers tapping lightly on the wood, her gaze fixed somewhere in the dark forest. She didn't seem to notice I was watching her, or maybe she didn't care. Either way, I couldn't look away.

The moonlight caught her profile, dulling its usual sharpness, and for a moment she seemed... vulnerable. It wasn't something I'd seen in her before, and it caught me off guard. There was something about her that got under my skin, something I couldn't quite place, and it unsettled me in a way that nothing had in decades.

I moved closer to her, not really thinking about my actions. My movements were silent, but when I stopped beside her, she turned her head slightly, taking in my presence without a word.

We stood there, side by side, the cool night air pressing down on us. I could hear her heart beating steadily, I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the sweet, alluring scent of her blood wafting into my nostrils. I didn't need words to feel the charge between us — it lay there in the silence, in the stillness, and when she didn't move when my arm caressed hers, I held my breath.

She turned her head toward me, her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't. Instead, her eyes searched mine, staring up at me wide and defenseless, and I felt something twist in my chest.

I reached out, my fingers touching hers, where they rested on the railing. It was a light touch, even hesitant, but not drawn away. Instead, she moved slightly, leaning her body toward me.

The world shrank in that moment, the sounds of the party fading into nothingness. Her breath caught, and I felt her fingers curl around mine, uncertain but deliberate. That small gesture, so simple and yet so exciting, was as if it had become a part of me and had changed something inside me.

I stepped closer, my free hand slowly rising to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes never left mine, and I saw her chest rise and fall, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her racing heartbeat and the rush of her blood throbbed in my ears, filling me as if I were human again and my heart was pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure if it was anticipation or nervousness — or maybe both — but it mirrored what I was feeling.

I hesitated for a moment. It wasn't something I was used to or could handle. But then her hand moved, her fingers lightly sliding up my arm, and that was enough for me.

I leaned in, closing the distance between us, and kissed her.

It wasn't slow or tentative — it was like a dam bursting. Her lips were soft but powerful, meeting mine with an urgency that matched the wild energy that was sparking between us. I could feel the heat of her skin as her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer. I let myself get lost in her, but I was careful, I had to hold myself back. She wasn't like me, and I couldn't forget that, no matter how much I wanted to let go completely. I couldn't.

Her lips moved, and I followed her obediently, as if there was nothing else I could do. I felt helpless, completely surrendered to her. I was stronger and faster than her, all my senses were more developed, and I was a true predator, yet now I followed her easily, instinctively, as if I had submitted myself to her.

Then suddenly she pulled away from me, just enough to catch her breath, her forehead lightly resting against mine. Her breath was warm on my skin, her fingers still gripping my shirt, as if she wasn't ready to let go.

We stood there for a moment, the world spinning around us but not touching us. Then she looked up at me, her eyes bright and alive, a soft, breathless laugh escaping her lips.

She said nothing — she didn't have to. The way she looked at me, the way her hands touched me, said more than words ever could.

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that sent a rush of excitement through me. Then she stepped back with one last glance, her fingers reaching for mine before she was completely gone.

I let go and watched her turn and walk back inside, the door closing softly behind her. But even when she was gone from my sight, the feeling remained, the smell, the touch, the warmth, the taste of her kiss.

For the first time in a long time, I felt... human. And it scared me as much as it excited me.

Chapter Text

I hadn't planned the kiss, and I didn't even think about it until it happened. Then, as I did, an incredible feeling came over me that wasn't even familiar. I'd kissed and even slept with other guys before, but I'd never felt the same way I had when I kissed Emmett. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, feeling the illusion of flying, enjoying the view, and yet knowing that at any moment I could fall and die a horrible death. It was intoxicating.

As I walked back into the Cullen house, the laughter and music of the graduation party washed over me, but it seemed distant, like it had happened to someone else. My heart was still pounding, my lips tingling from the kiss, and I couldn't stop replaying it in my head. The way he'd looked at me before it happened, the way he was holding back something huge, something he could no longer control. And when it happened — when I kissed him — it was as if the rest of the world just... ceased to exist.

I walked through the crowd, trying to act normal, but I felt completely disconnected from reality, like I was floating above the ground. Someone called my name — Olivia, maybe? — but I just waved absently, pretending not to hear. I needed a moment to process what had just happened.

I found myself in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, staring at the sink as if it held some kind of answer. What had I done, anyway? Emmett Cullen. The guy who seemed to have no flaws, who seemed to have been carved out of stone and brought to life, and yet there was this strange softness about him that I wanted to know more about. He kept making me laugh, and he always made me feel like he wasn't just there for me, but that he was actually listening to what I was saying. He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before — quiet but strong, calm yet intense. And when he kissed me back... God, it felt like every nerve in my body had lit up.

I closed my eyes, my fingers brushing my lips as if I could still feel him there. I pretended to be confident, smiling at him as I left him, but I didn't feel it anywhere near that, it was just an appearance. The feeling was completely crushing, a thumping in my head, but happiness was tumbling in my stomach. I had to leave him or I would show how deeply the kiss had affected me. I had to pull myself together. I had never been so engrossed in something — or someone — so quickly. I needed to feel control. But Emmett... he had upset that balance in a way that I wasn't sure I could handle.

"Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes and see Bella standing in the doorway, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Yes," I said quickly, straightening up. "I just needed some air. There are a lot of people here."

She nodded and stepped into the kitchen.

"It can be overwhelming. I used to hate crowds, too, but... you get used to it."

I flashed her a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure I want to get used to it."

She chuckled, knowing that I was actually thinking of Forks and the people here, not specifically the fact that in this party were a lot of them. She leaned against the counter next to me and looked straight at me. Bella was surprisingly easy to talk to, which I hadn't expected when we first paired up in class. I thought she was reserved, but there was a quiet strength about her that I admired. After I skipped our first after-school activity together — due to my hangover — she didn't get mad. I explained it to her, she even laughed with me about it, and we spent more and more time together after that. In addition to working together, we also had lunch together and talked a lot.

"Are you sure that's all?" she asked after a moment, glancing to the side.

"Yeah," I said a little too quickly, hurrying past her and grabbing a soda from the fridge. "Everything's totally fine."

If Bella suspected anything, she didn't say. Instead, she just smiled and nodded toward the living room.

"Olivia and Jason are looking for you. Apparently Jason is trying to convince everyone that he can beat Alice in some competition and that you should be the judge."

I followed her back to the party, doing my best to push thoughts of Emmett to the back of my mind. But it wasn't easy. Every time I glanced toward the terrace, I felt that familiar pull that tied me to it, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.

Later that night, after the party had died down and everyone else had gone home, I found myself standing in front of the mirror in my room, staring at my reflection as if I didn't recognize myself.

The girl looking back at me seemed... different. Not dramatically — my hair was still the same, my face was still mine — but there was something in my eyes, something I couldn't quite understand.

I sat on the edge of my bed, running my hand through my hair, trying to sort out the jumble of emotions swirling in my head. What had I done? Kissing Emmett like that — out of nowhere, no warning, no thought of the consequences. And he kissed me back. That was the part that gave me butterflies. I didn't know what to expect, but the way he kissed me seemed as if he wanted me as much as I did... And it was overwhelming.

I lay back on the bed, groaning and staring at the ceiling. This was completely out of character for me. I wasn't the kind of girl who got carried away by emotions or let someone else have that much power over me. I'd spent years building walls, keeping people at arm's length, not letting anyone get close to my heart, and now... one kiss, and Emmett Cullen had destroyed all of my walls. I'd always been into music, parties, and company, but I'd also kept my distance, not letting them get to know me fully. I'd revealed enough about myself to gain their trust, but I kept my deeper feelings and thoughts to myself.

The next morning I woke up to birds chirping outside and the sun shining through the curtains. I just lay there for a moment, letting the warmth of the sunlight soak into my skin. I felt like I was a new person, like I was starting a new chapter in my life somehow.

But then memories of the night before flooded back, and I felt a familiar twist in my stomach. The kiss. The way Emmett looked at me like I was the only person in the world. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I got up, put on a sweatshirt and jeans, and had to clear my head. My uncle and aunt were already up, sitting at the kitchen table, cups of coffee in hand, flipping through their newspapers.

"Morning," I said, grabbing a piece of toast, trying to act normal.

"Morning," my aunt replied, giving me a curious look. "You guys got home late last night."

"Yeah, it was a graduation party, you know," I said casually, biting into the toast.

"Did anything interesting happen?" my uncle asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No. I was just hanging out with some friends."

I could feel their eyes on me, as if they were trying to read between the lines, but I didn't give them any sign that I was lying. I didn't want to explain what had really happened – not to them or anyone else.

After breakfast I picked up my violin and headed outside because I felt like I needed to get away from myself for a while, and music always helped me do that. Playing always helped me think, and I had a lot of thinking to do now.

As I played, the sounds flowed easily from my fingers, I felt the tension in my chest begin to ease. Music had always been my escape, a way to block out the noise and find peace. And as the melody filled the air, I realized something: I didn't regret the kiss. Not even a little.

One thing was certain: I wanted more.

I finished playing and put my violin back in its case, feeling calmer than I had in days. Music had always been my sanctuary, and today it worked like magic. But now, as the morning stood before me, I felt restless again. I kept thinking about the party, Emmett and the kiss. It was starting to drive me crazy.

I grabbed my phone and texted Bella.

Me: Hey, do you have time to hang out today?

Her response came almost immediately.

Bella: Sure! In an hour at my place?

I quickly texted her back with a firm yes, then went inside to get ready. I thought some time with Bella might help clear my head — or at least that's what I told myself.

The walk to Bella's was short, and when I stopped in front of her house, my heart was pounding for no apparent reason. I wasn't even sure why I wanted to talk to her so much. Maybe it was because she was easy to be around, someone I could really trust.

Bella greeted me at the door, looking a little tired but still as friendly as ever.

"Hi, come in," she said, stepping aside to let me in.

"Thank you," I said, and following her into the kitchen.

She handed me a glass of iced tea and motioned for me to sit at the table.

"What's up? It seemed... something was wrong."

I froze for a moment, wondering if she knew why I was here. But then I realized she was probably just thinking about my strange, abstract behavior. I put down the glass, leaned forward, and decided to rip off the band-aid as quickly as possible.

"Okay, so... something happened last night," I began, my voice shaking a little. "And I haven't told anyone yet, but I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't talk about it."

Bella blinked and put down her glass.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said quickly, shaking my head. "It's not bad, it's just... surprising. At least it was to me."

Her concern turned to curiosity, and she leaned closer.

"Okay, now you have to tell me."

I sighed and ruffled my hair.

"I kissed someone. And he kissed me back. It was mutual. You know..."

Bella's eyebrows rose.

"Really? Who was it?"

I hesitated for a moment, my stomach twisting in knots. But there was no point in wasting any more time.

"Emmett."

Bella just stared at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she blinked, her mouth slightly open.

"Wait... Emmett Cullen?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling the heat rise to my face. "It just... happened. We were on the terrace, and I don't know, it just felt like the right moment, so I just... did it."

Bella's eyes widened, and for a moment I thought she might start laughing. But instead, she surprised me by nodding slowly with a gloomy expression.

"Wow. I mean... wow."

"What is it?" I asked, suddenly defensive. "Shouldn't I have done this or did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's not that," she said quickly. "It just... caught me off guard. Emmett doesn't really... I don't know how to explain it. Sometimes he's kind of a mystery. But if he kissed you back, he must have wanted to. It's just really surprising, like you said."

I frowned, trying to understand her reaction.

"Do you find it odd?"

Bella shook her head.

"No, it's not odd. I mean, the Cullens are like my second family, so it's a little... surprising to think that Emmett would kiss anyone. But you're great, Joyce, for doing it. And if he likes you, I think that's wonderful."

Her words surprised me, and for a moment I didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," I finally said with a small smile.

She nodded and took a sip of her tea.

"So... how do you feel about this? What do you think of it?"

I hesitated, not knowing how to express my feelings.

"I don't know. He's so... different. He's not like anyone I've ever met. And when I'm around him, I feel like I can really be myself, you know? Like I don't have to pretend I don't fit in here."

Bella smiled knowingly.

"Believe it or not, I know exactly what you mean."

Her reaction made me stop.

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," I raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, looking a little shy.

"Maybe. Edward sometimes makes me feel the same way. I mean, he really does this most of the time."

The mention of Edward reminded me of the Cullens, and how close Bella was to them. It made me wonder if there was more to their family than they showed, but I didn't push it. Right now, I was too focused on sorting out the mess of my own emotions.

"You think... I don't know, you think I'm making a mistake?" I asked, more softly than before.

Bella shook her head.

"No, I don't think so. Emmett's a good guy. If you like him and he likes you, then I say go for it. Just... be prepared for things can get complicated."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.

Bella hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully.

"The Cullens aren't... average. I mean, you've probably noticed that by now."

"Yeah, no kidding," I said, laughing.

She gave me a small smile.

"Just... take your time, okay? Don't rush into anything until you're sure. Emmett's family is wonderful, but a little... different."

I wanted to ask her exactly what she meant by that, but something in her tone told me to let it go. For some reason, I felt like if I asked her, she wouldn't tell me exactly what she meant. Instead, I nodded and decided to take her advice.

"Thanks, Bella. You're a good friend."

She smiled and reached out to touch my hand.

"Anytime."

After our conversation, I left Bella's house with lighter feelings than I had arrived with. As I headed home, I found myself replaying the kiss in my mind, but this time it didn't feel as overwhelming as before. Bella was right — if Emmett liked me and I liked him, then maybe it was worth exploring, even if things got complicated.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was on the verge of something big, life-changing. And even though I had no idea where it would lead, I was ready to find out.

Chapter Text

I was just starting to fall asleep when I heard it — the voice was so quiet that I almost convinced myself I was just imagining it. But then the air in my room seemed to move, the curtains fluttering, even though I had closed the window before going to bed. My heart pounded, and I sat up immediately, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Someone was there.

Before I could think of screaming, a soft chuckle came from the shadows.

"It's okay, it's just me."

I recognized the voice immediately, and my pounding heart slowed — if only a little.

"Jesus, Cullen," I whispered. I reached for the lamp, but in the end I didn't turn it on. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

The moonlight filtering through my window was just enough to recognize his figure. Emmett was leaning against the wall of my room, his arms crossed, his usual cheeky grin spread across his face, as if sneaking into my room in the middle of the night was the most normal thing in the world.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, though he clearly found my reaction amusing. "I just... wanted to see you."

I raised my eyebrows.

"And the front door wasn't an option?"

He smiled, and my heart started pounding again. He was here in my room. In the dark. In guilty dark. And I was sitting in my pajamas on the bed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.

"You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer, then lowering his voice. "But you like it."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop my lips from curling up.

"I'm not sure about that."

There was silence between us, something unspoken in the air. He didn't move, but I felt something pulling me towards him, some invisible force I didn't understand.

"Are you angry?" I asked after a moment, more quietly.

"Why would I be angry?" he frowned.

His gaze flicked to my lips for a moment before meeting mine again.

"The kiss."

"Oh, that...

Since the day after the party, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him too much, because every time I did, my stomach twisted so tightly I didn’t know how to handle it. My stomach did a somersault, my heart pounded, and an involuntary sigh escaped my lips. But now, when he was standing right in front of me in the dark, looking at me like that, it was impossible to ignore.

"I meant what I said," I admitted, but my voice was quieter than I wanted. "I didn't plan that kiss. It just... happened."

Emmett took another step closer, and suddenly he was there beside my bed.

"And was it a good thing?"

I hesitated, but only for a moment.

"Yes," I nodded.

Something flashed in his expression — something raw, something I hadn't expected. His usual playfulness was still there, but something deeper was lurking beneath.

"Are you... Do you...?" I stammered, confused.

"Yes," he said before I could finish my question. "I enjoyed it. Really," he murmured, sitting down next to me on the edge of my bed.

My breath caught in my chest. He was so close now that I could see the sparkle in his eyes as if it had caught the faint light and seize it.

"I can't help but think about it," he admitted. "You."

I couldn't control my pulse now, and I was pretty sure he knew it too. He was here in my room, looking straight at me, and I blushed as deeply as I had ever blushed before.

"I can't think of anything else," I whispered.

His hand slowly rose, hesitating for the briefest second before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed my skin coolly and carefully, and my whole body reacted as if it had been struck by lightning.

Then, before I could overthink it, I closed the distance between us.

As our lips met, something inside me changed. This time there was no hesitation, no uncertainty — just fire. His hands were on me in an instant, gripping my waist and pulling me close, and I felt his firmness, the strength that was always there beneath the teasing and the grins. I slid my hands up his chest, up his shoulders, and tangled my fingers in his short hair. He made a longing sound — something between a throaty sound and a sigh — and deepened the kiss, his grip tightening as if he were afraid I would faint.

But nothing like that happened.

The world outside my bedroom no longer existed. Nothing but him — his touch, his lips as he kissed me, as if trying to memorize the shape of my mouth. My heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy, but I didn't care.

His hands roamed my back, his fingers pressing against my skin, and a shiver ran down my spine. An inevitable sigh escaped my lips and I breathed into his mouth, and he took advantage of that, deepening the kiss until I forgot how to think at all.

I didn't know how long we were sitting there, lost in each other, but I had to pull away to catch my breath. I rested my forehead against his, trying to breathe calmly, my fingers still tangled in his hair.

"Wow," I murmured.

Emmett laughed, his breathing ragged.

"Yeah."

Neither of us moved for a long moment, both of us panting, our eyes locked on each other. Then I smiled, unable to contain myself.

"Did you really climb in through my window to kiss me?" I chuckled.

He grinned breathlessly but smugly.

"It was worth it."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart was still beating fast.

"You're ridiculous."

"And you kissed me anyway," he pointed out.

I laughed softly, shaking my head.

"Shut up," I chuckled.

And he did stay quiet, but only because he was too busy kissing me again.

As his lips met mine again, I lost myself in him. His hands ran down my back, his fingers touching just enough to make my skin burn beneath them. He kissed me like he never had intention of stopping, and honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted him to stop. I moved closer to deepen the kiss, and I felt his solid body barely soften under my touch. He was strong, incredibly strong, but his hands were careful on me, as if he were holding something back, to avoid losing control. The thought of having to hold himself back or he’d climb on top of me was terribly thrilling, and I didn't bother to suppress the feeling anymore. I just realized that what was happening now was inevitable since our eyes first met in the cafeteria. Emmett's lips left mine, trailed down my jaw, then down my neck. I took a deep breath, my heart racing, and he chuckled as he kissed the sensitive spot below my ear, his breath cooling my overheated skin sending a ridiculous joy through my body. I'd kissed guys before — a lot. But this? This felt different. It felt like something I'd never experienced before, something dangerously addictive. And maybe that was why my head was buzzing.

Suddenly, an alarm bell rang in my head and I pulled away, pressing my hands to his chest as I gasped for air.

"Wait... Wait...," I stammered. "I need a moment," I whispered, trying to calm myself down.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded quickly and finally got out from under the covers, then stood up. I was only wearing a tank top and shorts. I always slept in these.

"Yeah, I just... I need some water."

"Okay," he said, though his voice was distracted. "You're not going to faint because of me, are you?"

I gave him an amused look before heading towards the bathroom, where I turned on the light as I entered and closed the door behind me. When I looked in the mirror, I groaned. My face was flushed, my lips red from his passionate kisses, and my pupils were so wide that my dark eyes looked almost black. My hair was terribly messy from the way his hands were tangled in it, and my breathing was still too fast, like I had run a fucking marathon instead of kissing a guy in my bedroom.

I turned on the tap, splashing cold water on my face, trying to cool myself down. What the hell was wrong with me? I had been with guys before, but Emmett? With just one look, he could light a fire in me like no one else had ever before. The passion I felt for him was overwhelming. It shouldn't have happened this way, he was just a guy — what was so special about him?

I gripped the edge of the sink and took deep breaths. I felt completely disoriented. Was it just attraction? Was it more? Did I want it to be more? The thought sent another shiver through me. I wanted him. I had never wanted a man like him before. I had to pull myself together.

I felt like the cold water splashed on my face wouldn't be enough, so I walked over to the shower and turned it on. I turned the water on to lukewarm, then quickly threw off my clothes and stood under the water. As the cool water hit my body, I felt my heartbeat start to slow down and my heavy breathing becomes easier. I finally took a deep breath and started to think more clearly. Emmett Cullen was here in my room exactly twenty-four hours after I had drunkenly kissed him at their party. I knew about my actions, I remembered them, I wasn't drunk enough to act unconsciously, but I couldn't deny that the courage I'd had from downing a few drinks before that had given me the bravery. And now he was here with me, because he'd climbed in through my window so he could kiss me again. Was that really why he'd come? Or had he just realized the situation: that he could have me because I wanted him? He said he felt the same way, but I'd lied to get what I wanted before, so I couldn't believe him completely. But why would he lie? If he only needed me, why couldn't he have told me he was looking for a little affair? Why would he have lied? So maybe he was telling the truth...

The thought made my heart beat faster again.

I closed my eyes, turned my face toward the showerhead, and ran my hand through my wet hair. I knew Emmett was waiting for me in my room, so I let my mind switch off for just a moment and let out the breath I had been holding in. I had to go back, but first I had to clear my thoughts.

I was about to scream when two strong hands grabbed my hips and I felt a breath on my ear.

"Don't be scared," he whispered.

I jumped a little, but the scream caught in my throat as I thought there's someone else home!

Emmett was standing behind me in the shower, the water soaking us both, and as his chest touched my back, I knew without turning to look at him: he was naked.

"I said I needed a minute," I breathed, but I didn't open my eyes or move, just leaned back slightly against his chest. His hand slid from my hips to my stomach and hugged me, his nose caressing my shoulders, my neck, my face, my hair, as if he had stored my scent in his mind, but he didn't kiss me again. Not yet.

"You've been here for a while, I was worried," he admitted. "I thought you were freaking out."

"I didn't even hear you come in," I replied. My fingers touched his hand, then moved up to his elbow, and my fingers wandered to his naked waist and thighs. He was completely naked.

"I can be quiet if I want," he whispered in my ear, and finally kissed my neck, and I sighed again, this time openly. I couldn't ignore the dubious meaning of his sentence. Maybe it was just me having a dirty imagination and associating it with quiet, sinful, secret sex, but he was the one who climbed into the shower next to me naked. The cool water, as a soothing attempt in the past few minutes, was useless, because now my heart was pounding again as if it wanted to burst out of my chest. I leaned my head back on his shoulder and took a breath through my mouth. I was unable to control my breathing.

I broke out of his arms and quickly turned around, standing on tiptoe and kissed him. I put my arms around his neck, caressed his shoulders, his skin was icy cold and stiff under my touch, but that was the least of my concerns at the time. I shivered as the raging heat inside me met the cold water pouring down on us from the shower head. He put his arms around my waist, pulling me close, but so roughly and passionately that if I had been thinking even a little bit sober, I would have stopped. I felt like I was drunk just because I kissed this boy. Our tongues met, tangled, and a groan mixed with a sigh burst from Emmett's throat, his muscles tensed - I felt it, because our chest and stomach were pressed together as if we were one. He took a step back, as if he wanted to escape, but he didn't let go of my waist, so I moved with him. He continued the kiss, his lips rough, rubbing my mouth like sandpaper, but the desire inside me grew and I lost control of my rational thinking.

My hand wandered along his side, moving lower and lower, touching his stomach, getting dangerously close to...

"Joyce, is that you?" The scene was interrupted by a sharp sound accompanied by a knock.

My hand automatically went to Emmett's mouth, I didn't even realize I was pushing him, but the next moment his back hit the tile behind him and his head hit the wall as I covered his mouth. I felt his exhaled breath on my fingers.

"I... Yes, it's me," I answered, but my voice was shaking and hoarse, so I cleared my throat.

"Are you okay?" my uncle continued to ask. My voice could have betrayed me.

"Sure, I just couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd take a shower, maybe it would make me sleepy," I said fast, and Emmett chuckled softly under the pressure of my fingers. I glared at him to shut up, but I didn't see the fear of being caught, only amusement in his eyes.

"Okay," my uncle replied from the other side of the door. "Try to sleep, it's late."

"Okay," I said shortly.

He didn't answer, so all I could think about was that he was going back to bed with my aunt, but I waited to make sure he left before I let Emmett go. As I took a small step back, it was only then that I realized I was standing completely naked in front of Emmett. My uncle's intervention completely sobered me. Finally, my nerves, which had been longing for the boy until now, calmed down, and I suddenly got goosebumps from the cold water falling on us, so I turned around and turned it off.

Emmett was still leaning against the tile, his head resting against the wall, a half-hearted smile playing on his face.

"I think it's time for me to go," he said.

"Maybe so," I answered, clearing my throat.

He pulled the shower door open and got out - he reached for my towel as if he were home and knew it was mine and could use it. I sighed with my eyes closed as he quickly toweled himself off, and by the time I got out of the shower he was already putting on his clothes. I wrapped the towel he had soaked around me and, holding my pajamas in my hand, we walked back to my room after looking around the hallway to make sure the area was clear. My mind raced - what happened?

After I closed the door behind me, Emmett had already opened the window and turned to me once more. He looked me over as if this was the last time he would see me and wanted to remember every bit of me.

"I'm sorry I was too much," he finally said. His hair was still wet, the cold was pouring into the room through the window, but he didn't flinch.

"I would have sent you away if it bothered me," I answered softly, and stepped closer to him. He took my face in his hands and leaned down to press a short, soft kiss to my lips.

"Take care of yourself," he said, and as I looked up at him, it seemed like I saw genuine concern in his eyes, but I had no idea what that meant.

"See you tomorrow?" the question slipped out of my mouth before I could think it through. I should have asked how he meant it and why he told me to take care of myself.

"For the next few days... I have to be with my family," he answered, and pursed his lips. "We're going away," he continued quickly. "It's a family thing, you know," he shrugged, and walked over to the window.

"Then you take care of yourself," I smiled, but my heart was heavy at the thought of not being in Forks for the next few days.

"Always," he winked, and sat on the ledge, throwing his leg over it.

That was the last time I saw Emmett Cullen before everything went wrong. My heart was filled with happiness, an unshakable grin spread across my face after he left, and even though I put on my pajamas and I crawled back under the covers after closing the window, yet I knew that sleep would elude me tonight. I replayed what had just happened in my head over and over again, and I had to realize that I was trembling for another touch from him.

I was happy, and I found myself thinking about the future, about what would come after all this and when I would see him again. I had no idea then that I was going to die.