Red Room ₪ Breaking Dawn Fanfiction

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 & 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Chapter Eighteen —— 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 & 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.
——John Joseph Powell, The Secret of Staying in Love

Jacob carried a few big branches over one shoulder, walking towards the already growing pile to serve as our bonfire. He tossed them into the bank.

Benjamin walked up with a flame on his pointer finger.

He smirked at Jacob and then lifted all fingers except for his thumb, each of them catching fire as well. He then swung his arm and lit the pile of wood, earning a grin from Jacob.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jacob said.

Keeping my arms crossed and my eyes trained on the fire.

Someone brought up war stories, and Garrett spoke up.

"The American Revolution." He spoke up, sitting on the long diagonal to us. "I was there. I came this close," He held up his thumb and pointer finger, both only a few centimeters apart, "to biting Custer. The Indians got him first." He said.

"Try being alive during the French Revolution." Someone else replied, arms crossed. "That's a real revolution."

"If you want to talk about a rebellion," Liam spoke up from across from us, breaking the silence. "Talk about the Eleven Years War. No one does a rebellion like the Irish."

"You lost the Eleven Years War." Garrett pointed out.

"Aye," Liam responded with a grin. "But it was one hell of a rebellion." He said.

Then Vladimir and Stefan talk about what had happened to their castles and why they despised the Volturi so much.

"I hope you don't let this confrontation go to your head because if your hatred for the Volturi puts anyone of us in danger, you're going to wish they had killed you both back then when I'm finished with you both," I said, glaring at them.

"Althea," Edward said.

I sighed.

"I'm just anxious that something is about to happen," I said.

"It's okay," Edward said; he touched my hand.

"You're cold." He said.