Edward Cullen x Reader~𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔

ꋬ꒒ꅐꋬꐞꑄ ꍗꏂꏂꂚ ꋬ ꑄ꓄ꉻꋪꂵ

"A human, and a vampire, it's vile, it's natural." He spoke from his throne as the two girls had begun to shed you of your clothes. 

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that before." You snarled at him as you tried to cover yourself up, but they wouldn't have it. 

"It's against natural law, it's something that we have to deal with. A human can not be a vampire's mate." His voice boomed louder now as the girls pinned you down to the ground so you were looking up at the window ceiling, the rays from the sun blinding your eyes. 

"Just call me Juliet!" You joked as you called back to him but for a good minute, there wasn't responding as the two vampires poured some kind of liquids on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

"We have to discard one thing at a time, making the other's pay in suffrage. I don't understand, how one of us can be so... vile, how even a human can be so.... unnatural." He spoke then as you tried to shake your head. 

"You're unnatural." You hissed out at him as one of them stuck their hand over your mouth. 

"Love can kill." You heard his footsteps step down from his throne, as you could feel his coldness approach you. "You must pay for your love. Love isn't free, to for you." There was a sharp coldness against your left leg before you heard someone breathe, maybe it was you but you were unsure. 

That's when the slow sharp cutting pain ripped out through your body, as you felt the warm liquid begin to ooze from your leg. 

"ARE YOU INSANE!?" You shot up, as you snarled in his face, your leg was already creating a  pool of blood, but before he could say anything else he punched you back down to the ground, and you could feel the same liquid begin to ooze from your nose, as you winced of the constant stinging of your leg. 

"I thought you would have already assumed that." He flashed his grin as he climbed close to you, the sharp knife winding against your cheeks, the small sharp stings, shot through as if there was glass in your blood, as he licked the knife in between the cuts. 

he went down every inch of your skin, some large, some thin, after all, he didn't want you to bleed to death, he was preparing you. 

You laid in the pool of your own blood as you felt kike you were spinning in the air, your head was light, and you couldn't even lift a finger, the pain, and the numbness, and the warmness from your blood, creating a sense of paralysis within you, as all you could do was wait. 

The pale blue sky on a winter's day. 

The frigid wind brushed along the small, unique snowflakes as they danced. 

The sparkling snow, pilling up into soft pillows, as you laid, watching the pale clouds sweep their way above. 

Small ghosts were made with every breath as you took, as you watched the world go by you. 

The silence of the winter, or the laughter of the neighbor's kids next door, sledding down the hill. 

The whole world just looked different, slow, calm, quiet, and bright. Like nothing bad could happen, as if for once in life everything could just be ok. 

If only everything could just be ok. 

But it never is, is it? 

The storm comes. 

The winds blow harder. 

Pushing against you. 

Pushing against the house

Against the trees.

They fall. 

Leaving damage in the way

And the world

May never look the same.

It may only be peaceful, in that one memory, the one that often gets clouded by the screams and the cries, as the wind rages, the snow becomes gray, filled with dirt and tears, possibly blood as it piles high, locking everyone into a cage of their own. 

Some might be fine. 

Other's are caught in a death trap. 

One of which they could escape from, but will never truly be gone from it. 

The woosh of the wind that was once comforting was now damaging, like nails being hammered into the soft tissue of the brain, and with every hit, every sound, it bleeds, seeps out into your skull as everything becomes foggy, distant. 

And soon who you are, who you seemed like a distant memory, one that you long for, one that you can never get back as it slowly fades, becoming a faint sense, but never truly remembered. 

The trees create holes in your house, as they fall, their life-ending the moment they crack, before they crack and tumble, and the years they have seen, all fade away, as their life is over in an instant, only for their tragedy to become your mess. 

How to repatch the whole? 

How to deal with the damage to your house? 

Where to get the supplies, where to get the money?

To slowly prepare it to what it was. 

The leaves sweep in, the bark looks dark, and the snow piles in, gray, slushy, almost forgetting that it once was happy. 

Almost forgetting that it once was white, sparkling, calm, and quiet. 

Almost forgetting the little gray bunnies that would hop around leaving the smallest prints, their noses spotted with the little flakes before they melted under the warmth, only to be replaced by another. 

When ut was beautiful. 

But now it's just a mess. 

A mess you have been given no choice, but to deal with it. 

And you have no idea where to begin. 

No way to grasp what once was. 

You can't control the weather. 

You can only attempt to fix the damage. 

But what happened never goes away. 

It will always stay. 

We have no control over the weather.