𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐦 | 𝐜.𝐝 𝐟𝐟

𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.

Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. It had gotten very cold, and I guessed the good weather was at an end. I was warm in his jacket, though, breathing in the scent of it when I thought he couldn't see.

Cedric pulled out through the traffic, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head toward the freeway.

"Now," he said significantly, "it's your turn."

"Can I ask just one more?" I pleaded as Cedric accelerated much too quickly down the quiet street. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the road.

He sighed.

"One," he agreed. His lips pressed together into a cautious line.

"Well... you said you knew I hadn't gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you knew that."

He looked away, deliberating.

"I thought we were past all the evasiveness," I grumbled.

He almost smiled.

"Fine, then. I followed your scent." He looked at the road, giving me time to compose my face. I couldn't think of an acceptable response to that, but I filed it carefully away for future study. I tried to refocus. I wasn't ready to let him be finished, now that he was finally explaining things.

"And your name?" I stalled.

He looked at me with disapproval. "What?"

"Is Edward really your name or do you get to choose? And why would you choose the most generic name ever?" I felt silly asking for clarification.

"That's more than one," he pointed out. I simply intertwined my fingers and gazed at him, waiting.

"It was the first thing that came to mind." He paused thoughtfully. "When Carlisle asked what my name was, a memory was playing. Something along the lines of introducing myself as Edward Cullen.

"Sometimes I feel as though Edward isn't really me" — he frowned as he said the words — "as if I have forgotten myself and created a new persona to live in. Like I've left a part of myself somewhere."

Some part of me was happy that he knew. Or had the sense to. But I was sad, too, because he's forgotten himself. Or maybe he thought that becoming a vampire had completely changed him, so he didn't feel the need to hold on to those memories.

"Hmmm, what about the reason you think you can't hear me?" I asked, playing his game as well. If he could come clean, I would too. 

He looked at me, his eyes enigmatic.

"I don't know," he murmured. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." He grinned at me, suddenly amused.

"My mind doesn't work right. I'm a freak." The words bothered me more than they should — probably because his speculation had hit home. Being a Death Eater, people didn't want my help during the war. Suddenly, I wasn't one of them. Even when I had risk myself to change my allegiance. Suddenly, the mark on my left arm was burning.

"I hear voices in my mind and you're telling me that you're the freak," he laughed. "Don't worry, it's just a theory..." His face tightened. "Which brings us back to you."

I sighed. How to begin?

"Aren't we past all the evasions now?" he reminded me softly.

I looked away from his face for the first time, trying to find words. I happened to notice the speedometer.