Before The Storm | J. Hale & A. Cullen

1.3

After Michael finished toweling off his damp hair, he headed into the closet in search of some clothes. He pulled on a pair of boxers, but he instantly hesitated as he looked at all of the clothes in the closet. The majority of the clothes were designer and were brightly colored. Michael usually wore plain and simple clothes, so his fashion sense was very limited. After deciding to look for comfortable clothes, he settled on wearing some black jeans, a tight-fitted white short-sleeve, and grabbed a black baseball cap from one of the shelves.

He put his watch on his left wrist as he walked down the stairs. His leather bracelet was clasped around his other wrist as per usual. His legs automatically carried him to the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl, Michael took a bite from it as he walked down the hallway to the back of the house. He came to a stop by the open windows, breathing in the fresh air as he basked in the sunlight. He stood there for a while as he enjoyed the view. Finishing the apple, he turned and walked back to the kitchen to throw away the apple core. As he went to leave, his path was cut off by the female with light blonde hair. Her arms were folded over her chest, her expression closed off.

“Can we talk?” She asked before picking an envelope up off the counter and walking out through the back door after she received a nod.

Michael -- although, mildly confused -- followed after the retreating blonde. His gaze kept drifting down to the envelope she held in her hands. After a minute of walking, Rosalie finally came to a stop and turned to face the curious brunet. She stared at him for a moment in silence before finally extending the envelope out to him.

He frowned as he noted the broken seal. He sent her a glance, only for her to shrug her shoulders. He flipped the letter over in his hands as he looked back down at it. He visibly perked up as he saw the handwriting his name was written in.

Before he could open the letter, Rosalie snatched it back from him.

“Can I trust you, Michael?” she asked. She continued before he could answer. “I want to. I honestly do, but I need more than blind trust. I will give you the letter, if you tell me how the Volturi know you. I've noticed the ring, but I'm not sure if anyone else has."

Michael’s body sagged so suddenly that Rosalie’s expression briefly betrayed herself to show her shock before she could cover it up. Within seconds, his demeanor changed to casual and relaxed. Turning on his heels, Michael approached the nearest tree and pulled himself up to sit on one of the thick, lower branches. He gestured to a nearby branch for Rosalie to sit as well.

“Come and sit, then. I suppose I could pick up where Jasper left off. You’re lucky you’re kind of blackmailing me right now, otherwise, you wouldn’t know any of what I’m about to tell you. I wanted to tell Jasper --or even Isabella-- before I told anyone else.”

Although hesitant, Rosalie moved to sit across from the brunet. She was curious about how often his personality seemed to switch. At times, he seemed like a completely different person. Running her hand through her hair, she tied it up into a messy bun as Michael began to speak again.

“I’m sure he told you about the war, and about my sister's death. After her death, I tracked down Prince Benjamin --the ruler of us Walkers-- for guidance. Eventually, the Prince decided to get in contact with Marcus, Aro, and Caius. My orders were to stay with them; to serve them until I remembered what life was worth. Believe it or not, the Volturi taught me to love again.

“I couldn’t stand any of them, at first. When I wasn’t completing tasks for Aro, I was locked away in my chambers or the library. Unbelievably, Jane was my first actual friend there. It was like Monster vs. Monster. We both knew what the other was capable of, and we weren’t scared of it. We pushed each other often to our limits. We spared a lot. Sometimes physically. Other times, though, it was her gift against mine. We fought past when my blood was drawn. After the first time I bled in front of her and Alec, they became fascinated with it. My blood doesn’t spark their thirst. Plus, they had never seen or heard of black blood before. Daywalker blood is poisonous to Nightwalkers -- the poison is what changes the pigment of our blood -- but I told them that I wasn’t sure if it would be the same for them since you’re kind don’t usually know about or interact with us daywalkers.”

He trailed off for a moment, deciding what all he wanted to give away. Taking off the bracelet clasped around his wrist, Michael bared it to Rosalie. Pale marks were visible on his wrist; a diagonal cut with what looked to be the imprint of fangs surrounding it.

“We were all curious about what would have happened if a Bitten did drink from a Daywalker. Jane volunteered to do it. I cut a shallow laceration into my wrist, and she tried the blood. We waited for a little while after that. We wanted to make sure that it wasn’t affecting her before we did anything else. I became curious as to whether or not the venom your kind possesses would affect me. Since my blood didn’t affect Jane, we thought that there was a possibility it would be the same the other way around. She bit down on my wrist and injected me with some of her venom. It didn’t burn, not the way I’ve been told it is supposed to… I don’t really know how to actually describe it. It felt a little tingly at first. Almost like waves of energy were moving throughout my body. My senses became stronger and I felt alive for the first time since Nikki died.

“That’s why on the field, both she and Alec bit me. They gave me some of their venom because they knew that I would crave the feeling it gives me if they reignited the bond. It was a tactic to try to seay me back to their side. Jane kind of already apologized for that, but that's not relevant. We found out after a while of them taking my blood and giving me their venom, that a bond was formed. Their venom and my blood made us physically stronger and faster. We could push ourselves past our previous limits without effort. I enjoyed it. Like, a lot. I kind of miss it. But after some time, I began to realize that it wasn't something I wanted. Not from them, anyway."

Michael trailed off as he blankly stared at the ground. His body was unmoving, his shoulders hardly raising with every breath. His gaze flickered up to Rosalie as she hopped off the tree. He took her hand when she offered it, dropping down out of the tree.

“Raphael said in the letter that they wanted to know when you'd be back. It's the 21st century, so I don't know why they couldn't have just texted you.”

She rolled her eyes at Michaels vague shrug, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands.

"Who is Raphael, by the way? There wasn't much to go off of in the letter."

Michael remained quiet for a few seconds as he thought through his answer.

"The only family I have left."

Rosalie nodded her head, accepting that answer. She turned on her heels, starting to walk back to the house. She pulled the letter out of her pocket, holding it over the back of her shoulder for Michael to grab as he followed along after. He did so as she spoke one last time.

“Now, c’mon. Emmett actually wanted me to get you so we could talk about classic cars and models. He likes the ‘69 Charger you have out front. He's been wanting a similar model, so he wants your opinion.”