― All it takes is the warm caress of serenity for an irreparable hate to tear and break. His tragedy was set in play. Her soul threatened to burn.
❛❛ NEW MOON ― BREAKING DAWN ❞
note: long chapters, some canon divergence, aged-up characters! (not slo...
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I can't sleep.
The bed had layer after layer of thick comforters. The room emitted a slow hum of cold, artificial air, and I kept staring at the horizontal vent beside the door, hoping nothing as little as a rat would come at me, certainly not one with red eyes and blond hair. I twisted and turned every which way, groaning at the soft pillows, wishing for the numbing dream, a semblance of rest even for a moment. I'm so desperate for sleep that I hide under the sheets so the warm light doesn't remind me that I'm three floors underneath Volterra, with vampires lurking at the corner. Do they even sleep? Not a wink of relief?
I miss my bed. I miss the rez. I miss Jackson knocking on my door with a six-pack of warm, bitter beer when I couldn't sleep.
I've already cried myself to the point of hollow. No tears would come out anymore. I can't think about anything else for one more second.
I shot up the bed and gave up. I walked around the lavish thing and stood on the chilly floor, wandering aimlessly until I reached the door and twisted the knob. I peeked my head out, against the warning echoing in my mind, using my bandaged hand to keep the door open while I waited for a single sound to echo in the empty hall. Nothing.
It's eerie quiet.
I couldn't stay any longer in that room so I went out, looking left to right, ultimately deciding to head straight to the left from where I thought we came in, but it led to an open room with what looked like a gallery. There were three lush chairs circled a glass table, gold flourishing its wide stand. A fireplace stood in the middle, but it didn't really look like it served any use at all. It was as decorative as the swords and steel armor, and when I looked up, I gaped in awe at the ceilings filled with paintings of clouds, angels, and the morbid beauty of blood and chaos. I was in another world, miles away from where I came from.
Alice meant what she said by royalty. They exist as kings of their kind, feared by their people, guards willing to sacrifice their souls for them.
Where do I begin to trust a man who knows he's above all else, even his own will?
I sat in the burgundy armchair to the far left with the best view of the ceiling, tracing through every prominent stroke and splash of color. I could look at it all day.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" I jolted from the voice that came behind me. It was Aro, looking up just the same with the dreamy look in his eyes. He was far more expressive than Caius, but I could see through his vacant smile more than I wanted to. "A masterpiece gifted to us by a special man. He captured the world perfectly. Beauty, liberty, the ever-loving chaos, and the luscious nature of blood." He pranced towards the other chair, his back in a precise straight while he studied my face. "These halls have long been embraced by our own stillness. But today, I walked amidst the beat of your heart humming through every wall. I have you to thank for the melody."
