I can still make the whole place shimmer (with the skin of a killer Bella)

Ch. 2 Buffallo Billing a deer and chalymida afflicted mountain lions

Angelica sat primly atop a bed in her dark room. She was dressed in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a lacy maroon top that sat snugly on her chest, having long ago discarded her school clothes. The walls glowed in the flickering light of a candle, tucked precariously away at her desk, the flame occasionally flickering a bit too closely to the pile of notes balanced beside it. The vanilla of the candle clashed with the sharp smell of nail polish, stinging her nostrils as the bottle twisted open with a click. The color, milky and opaque, swished around in the glass container as Angelica dipped the small brush in. A small cosmetic bag sat beside her, wrinkling the silky bed sheets.

The bag was stacked close to full with varying shades of red, pink and white. A small package of nail stickers, mainly flowers, was tucked in at the side. It had been a gift from Rosalie last christmas.

" Let them eat cake, she says just like Marie Antoinette ."

Music blasted loudly through the cushioned headphones that sat atop the girl's head. The sounds of ABBA and the occasional Queen song filtered through the dull buzz of electricity that clung to the house.

She'd long ago trained herself to focus in on what she desired to hear, tuning out anything she had deemed to be irrelevant. Tonight, she was filtering out the conversations of her siblings, debating where they would be getting their meal for the night. Her ipod rested delicately on her silky duvet.

She held out her hand, admiring the first coat of smooth polish that sat atop her nails.

Edward had said it was cruel of her to mask "weapons" with innocent colors and delicate designs whenever she gave herself a manicure. Angelica thought he was reaching. To refer to her fingernails as 'weapons' was inherently stupid, and to insinuate that nail polish was anything other than a decoration was the definition of overthinking.

The moonlight, diluted by the everpresent clouds, poured in through the floor to ceiling window that was tucked in beside her bed. She'd been in her room ever since she'd gotten back to school, only darting down when Esme had called her name and had handed her a drink. The gray sky of the day had been overtaken by the navy darkness of night three hours ago.

A half finished friendship bracelet lay beside her knees, waiting for the polish to dry so it could be completed. Five others were stacked beside it, products of her boredom. She couldn't bring herself to do her schoolwork. It seemed so useless. How many times had she answered those same equations?

" Caviar and cigarettes, well versed in etiquette ..." She hummed mindlessly. " She's a killer-"

Something grazed her shoulder.

"Jesus Fuck!" She jolted at the touch.

The bottle of top coat she'd been holding nearly landed face down on her bed. A pale hand grabbed it just in time, darting forward so quickly the lines of where the fingers met the palm seemed to blur. Angelica tugged her headphones off hurriedly, looking up at her 'attacker' with a frown.

Carlisle bore both the nail polish container in his hand and an unimpressed look on his face.

Shit.

"Language please, Angelica." He chided, glancing at the nail brush she was still clinging to. "You didn't spill any on your sheets?"

She shook her head. "You snuck up on me." Angelica said accusatorially.

"I knocked on the door about five times and called your name." Carlisle set the bottle down on the bedside table. There was a small clink as the glass met the dark oak wood. "You shouldn't zone out so much."