Twilight | Alice X OC

Chapter 1

~1900, San Francisco~

"The doctor is almost here, Miss. It will all be okay soon."

Before being able to reply, the young woman doubled over, body covered with sweat and utter exhaustion contorting her features. All that could be heard throughout the room was her hacking.

She tasted the metallic tang in the back of her throat and her pale arm shot out quickly in response. But her maid was already ahead of her, cloth in hand. The white linen was moved away from her mouth soon after, now stained scarlet.

Sitting back and putting all of her weight against the couch, she took a deep and rattling breath in, sounding pained. "Thank you," She spoke gently, barely audible.

"Please, don't waste your energy," The maid quickly pleaded with her. She couldn't bear to see the young woman in so much pain. To see her stripped of everything she was.

For the woman that lay on the couch looking nearer death than life was not the fine young lady she'd come to know.
Gone was the coloured skin and plump cheeks. And the light that had shone in those evergreen eyes since the moment she'd met her was smothered out, instead weighed down with exhaustion and pain. And the only colour on her face was the blood that had dried in the corners of her once pink lips, now cracked and dull.

"Miss-"

"Lilian..." The dying woman took a steadying breath, the action almost throwing her into another coughing fit. "Please, this close to the end of my life... I'd like to feel like I have a friend, not a servant." Those few words had cost her, the very life seeming to drain out of her at a faster rate than that she could afford.

"Shh, shh," The older maid shushed, grabbing onto her hands. "You're not going to die, Miss- Lilian." She'd accepted her fate long ago, not caring how contagious this disease was, arguing that she was old anyway and was more than ready for her time. And Lilian did not deserve to die alone without anyone. Not while she was here.

The sick woman didn't argue further, no longer having the fight to. She allowed her eyes to flutter closed gently, hearing sobs follow.

The maid watched helplessly, her very heart breaking. Rushed footsteps had her looking up.
"Oh- doctor, thank goodness!"
The maid rushed forward quickly, leading him in. The old man hurried towards the frail woman, agonized at the sight and what was to come. He looked back and nodded, the maid looking towards the entrance now in confusion.

Her mouth fell open when her eyes landed on the stranger who walked in, steps unheard and smooth as water. The stranger spared her only a glance-- which was enough to make her weak old knees almost give out. His pale face was so perfectly sculpted... and his eyes. Crimson-

"Both of you need to leave." His voice was icy but magnetic, pulling her towards him in a way that wasn't natural.

The doctor dragged his gaze away from the young woman who lay dying. He'd never in his life seen such beauty. She'd inherited her mother's incredible facial structure and physique, her father's alluring features. But her kindness, that was all her own. And against all better judgment and maybe morals, he'd fallen in love with her.
It was why he couldn't bear to see her die. He wouldn't allow it.

And so, for what he knew would be the last time, he took her in. It pained him to drag his eyes from her but he managed, his hand wrapping around the arm of her maid, also a kind woman. She was crying and in all honesty, he might've been too. But he didn't look back, not as he closed the door behind him and not as he heard a short gasp.

Lilian Grace Williams would die tonight, the doctor knew part of that were true. He just hoped that the good parts of her would survive. He wouldn't regret his decision either way. The woman he loved would live on, that was all that mattered.

Lilian's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment due to the sharp pain in her neck. But they shut soon after as the energy left her even quicker than before. She felt nothing, just a gentle lull that took her further and further away from the living, everything dim and solemn.

That was before the fire entered her body, her skin, her veins. And then everything was red and agony, every fibre of her being feeling as if it were being burnt, as if her very anatomy wanted to separate and tear apart in hopes of escaping the pain.

But no escape came, only pain followed by more pain until that was all there was. The last thought she remembered having... Please let me die.