About Time (Demetri/OC){UNDER EDITING}

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Stephanie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga and its characters, however I own the plot line and my OCs.

So I wrote this story a while ago and recently got some messages to finish it and now I've re-read it and I've fallen in love with this story all over again and so I'm going to revamp it, if you'll pardon the pun. I'm going to add chapters and make it better as I have improved with over the years - I wrote this three years ago aha. So please if you're new enjoy! And if you're an old reader who has comeback then please sit back and enjoy the rewrite which will hopefully delight you all :)

Thank you so much for reading and please do comment and vote xx

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I sat reading on our sofa, the fire gently flickering in the fireplace. Italy wasn't cold, but I just loved the colour and finesse of the flames as they crackled. So beautiful and yet so dangerous. 

High heels clattered down the stairs. "I'm just going out, alright?" My American best friend Becky never failed to amaze me. She swung through the door way, short black cocktail dress clinging to her athletic frame, sparkly, black high heels the source of the noise. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, turning the page of my book. I already knew, but still...

"Party," she laughed, bruntette braid swaying as she beamed, packing her clutch.

"Be careful," I sighed. I wasn't a party person, the bright lights and loud noises, not to mention the drunken hooligans, really didn't appeal to me. I preferred staying indoors and reading romance novels. Or was I just hopeless at having a social life? Introverted and mumbling my way through school, college and university, through life in general. Even through my current job as a cafe worker until I found a use for my English degree, my true calling - a temporary gig which I'd had for two years now. I loved the cafe, but I could be doing more, much more. 

Becky on the other hand... She was out until midnight partying and always coming back, well... High. Although I'm pretty sure it wasn't on drugs, maybe it was just on life. It seemed as if she never slept. She was never tired, always on the go, never in one place for too long. The woman was a party animal that was for sure. 

"What're you reading?" Becky eyed the book in my hands, slipping her clutch over her shoulder.

"Oh, just The Fault in our Stars." I flipped the cover over for her to see - a familiar sight. It was always lying around the cottage, pages ruined by me folding them over. I know, I know, folding pages... I'm such a monster. 

"For what? The hundredth time?" She laughed - pulling on a red leather jacket - the sound like that of tinkling bells.

"Sixteenth actually," I muttered, folding over the page and slowly letting it fall closed.

But as usual she heard me, pale features pulling into a smile. "You're so grumpy."

"You're so happy," I laughed.

She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. "You should try being happy too. Come to the party." She sounded like she was ordering me rather than asking, her brown eyes intimidating.

"I'm good." Now what was happening in my book?

A cold hand touched my shoulder. She was always cold, strange being the warm person that she was. "Just be careful, Hannah."