Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 to contemplate. So many sides to it, so many different meanings and levels. Not the same thing as love, but tied up in it inextricably.
Edward had no idea if Athena was attracted to him.
Would her mental silence somehow continue to get more and more frustrating until the vampire went mad? Or was there a limit that he would eventually reach? Edward tried to compare her physical responses to others, like the secretary and Jessica Stanley, but the comparison was inconclusive. The same markers-changes in heart rate and breathing patterns-could just as easily mean fear or shock or anxiety as they did interest.
It seemed unlikely that Athena could be entertaining the same kinds of thoughts that Jessica Stanley used to have. After all, Athena knew very well that there was something wrong with him, even if she didn't know what exactly it was. And yet...as he remembered those fantasies that used to repulse him, but remembered them with Athena in Jessica's place...
Edward was breathing more quickly, the fire clawing up and down his throat.
What if it had been Athena imagining him with his arms wrapped around her fragile body? Feeling Edward pull her tightly against his chest and then cupping his hand under her chin? Brushing the heavy curtain of her hair back from her blushing face? Tracing the shape of her full lips with his fingertips? Leaning his face closer to hers, where Edward could feel the heat of Athena's breath on his mouth.
Moving closer still...
But then the vampire flinched away from the daydream, knowing, as he had known when Jessica had imagined these things, what would happen if he got that close to her.
The attraction was an impossible dilemma because Edward was already too attracted to Athena in the worst way.
Did he want Athena to be attracted to him, as a woman to a man? That was the wrong question.
The right question was should Edward want Athena to be attracted to him that way, and the answer was no. Because he was not a human man, and that wasn't fair to her.
With every fiber of his being, he ached to be a normal man, so that he could hold her in his arms without risking her life. So that Edward could be free to spin his fantasies, fantasies that didn't end in with her blood on his hands, her blood glowing in his eyes.
The vampire's pursuit of her was indefensible. What kind of relationship could he offer her, when he couldn't risk touching her?
Edward hung his head in his icy hands. It was all the more confusing because he had never felt so human in his whole life-not even when he was human, as far as he could recall. This was entirely new to him. He had no parallels to draw, no comparisons to make.
