AUGUST • C.CULLEN

eight

AUGUST
1918, CHICAGO

The warm light of the sun filters in through the shutters on the windows, dancing playfully across August's features. Carlisle sits next to him, out of the sun but holding his hand comfortingly while Edward sits across the table from both of them, shrowded in darkness.

"I had an old friend," August says, discomfort obvious on his face. "A witch." Carlisle squeezes his hand and the brunette sends his partner a thankful look. "She wanted to protect me from the dangers of this world- humans, vampires, werewolves... Ellie wanted to be sure that I could protect myself when the time came."

Edward's brow furrows, the shadows clinging to his form even as he leans forward. "So she made you a- a grass sword?"

"Must have." August shrugs. "At first it was just enhanced senses, a stronger connection to nature... We both thought her spell had failed, because that's just what happens as Nymphs age."

"So maybe she tried the spell again without telling you? Can you get in touch with her?"

"Edward." Carlisle hisses.

August's face crumbles slightly and his grip tightens on Carisle's hand. "She died four hundred and fifty-five years ago. There is no getting in touch with her."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

August sighs through his nose before he forces a smile, tightly clutching Carlisle's hand. "I'm over three thousand years old, Edward. I've endured plenty of loss." He doesn't want to speak of the way Ellie had made him feel, more emotional than he had wanted to be during this conversation.

"But she was different," Edward argues, "You said it yourself, you fell in love with her."

August tenses and returns his gaze from Carlisle's hand to meet Edward's eyes. "How do you know that?"

"What-? You, you said you didn't want to talk about how she made you feel- I'm sorry, I..."

"Edward."

The bronze-haired boy meets Carlisle's warm eyes.

"August never said that out loud."

Edward stands from his seat and runs his hands through his hair, wide-eyed and panicked. "What? But- but I heard it clear as day, I-"

"It's alright, Edward, it's okay." August's voice is low, soothing, and it calms Edward down greatly.

"Carlisle? Why don't you take Edward hunting. Help him calm down and explain what we know."

"Of course." Carlisle nods, gently squeezing August's hand and placing a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead. "Come along, Edward."

The two men, one panicked and the other calm as can be, leave August in the lounge area of their home, walking into the woods surrounding their home.

August gets to his feet and sighs, picking up the newspaper from the coffee table. His green eyes scan the page and stop on a bold section of writing.

' LOVE NATURE?

IN HOPES OF DISTRACTING US ALL FROM THE INFLUENZA THAT IS CURRENTLY PLAGUING OUR FINE CITY, THE WISTERIA SOCIETY IS HOSTING AN EVENING EVENT TODAY TO SHOWCASE A VARIETY OF WONDERFULLY GROWN FLORA. CHAMPAGNE AND APPETISERS WILL BE PROVIDED. EVENT ENDS 7PM.
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