I Write Sins, Not Tragedies [An Emmett Cullen Love Story]

Chapter Five

I Write Sins, Not Tragedies 

Chapter Five: Fee Fye Fo Fum

This was no ordinary dream. I was standing here in the middle of a dark forest, facing the back of a vaguely familiar man; Emmett. He wasn't saying anything, but he was angry. That was only obvious by the shaking of his broad figure, and the faint lines around his the knuckles of his tightly clinched fist. There was a feeling inside me, and it wasn't fear. For some unexplainable reason, I moved forward, placing my hand onto his large arm in an effort to comfort him. This startled him, he wheeled on me; too fast for me to see. I was shocked by the movement, but it was the ravenous hunger in his red eyes that startled me awake. 

There was a sheen of sweat that covered my body, and I was still seeing those hungry red eyes floating around in the empty, dark spaces of the room. I wiped some of the wetness from my face with my shaking hands and sighed; "I need to get a grip." 

I took a moment to calm myself down, and looked around the room. The buttercream walls did let of a light glow in the dark, providing me with a bright enough focal point to awaken myself. I took a few steady breaths and slipped on my house shoes for a brief exit to the bathroom. 

I took a look in the mirror; my pale skin stuck out against the dark circles and my green-hazel eyes, it was especially stark against my nearly black hair that I wore at my collarbones in gentle (slightly frizzy) curls. I turned on the sink to the coldest temperature and cupped my hands capturing some of the water in them. Holding my breath, I splashed the water all over my face, jolting the remaining of my groggy body awake. I opened the medicine cabinet and to kill some time and distract myself, pulled out my toothbrush and began scrubbing away at my teeth. 

After I ran out of things to do in the bathroom, I emerged, heading downstairs for the study. This time, I had become used to awakening in the middle of the night, and wasn't stupid enough to try jumping the stairs.  

Edward was there, too, when I had reached the study; he was hovering over some sheet music with a pencil, inspired. He didn't even look up when he spoke; "Can't sleep?" 

I sighed and answered sarcastically. "Do I ever?" I strolled around the brown leather sectional and towards the furthest book shelf, in search of a good read. I had settled on the latest historical romance bestseller and threw myself onto the sofa, sitting cross legged in the corner next to Edward. 

I opened the book, and did make an effort to read, but my eyes refused to focus on the words. I sighed and looked up at Edward. "I've never heard you play." I noted, "Are you actually any good, or are you just one of those wannabe's?" 

Edward looked up, his classic crooked smile on his lips. When he spoke, he used the nickname he had derived from my middle name Louise. "Louie, do I strike you as the type who has to be a wannabe?" His voice was leaking with confidence. 

"Touché." I muttered. Edward did have an ease at everything he did. "Will you play something for me?" 

Edward beamed again, dazzling me. "I have something in the works; but you'll just have to wait like everyone else. You don't get an exclusive preview, Louie. You aren't that special." 

I stuck my tongue out at him like a defiant two-year-old.  

"Real mature." Edward laughed, his yellow eyes were alight with humor. "Isn't it your bed time?" He made a face, "Aww, did you have a bad dweam?" 

I slapped his arm irritably, and it really did hurt. "Shut-up, jackass." 

Edward was serious now, and when he spoke it was as if he knew what had been bothering my mind the last few days. "It isn't your fault, you know...about Emmett." 

I dejected my gaze and for once in a blue moon was silent; keeping my thoughts to myself. 

Edward did all the talking. "It wasn't anything personal; he didn't leave because of you." 

"Can we not talk about this, Edward, please?" I pleaded, "I really don't want to think about this anymore." For a moment, I felt nothing but heartbreak. 

Edward paused, and I could feel an air of sympathy and knowing between us. I was glad that he didn't say anything. Instead he placed a kiss on the top of my head, and stood up offering me his hand, inclining his head to the piano in the adjacent room with a wink. "Come on, I'll give you a preview." 

-x-x-x-x-x- 

Okay, this may make me sound like a creeper, but there are just sometimes I cannot swallow my own curiosity. So naturally when all of the Cullens had left me alone in the house the following day; I was going to explore around a little bit. I had been everywhere downstairs, in the basement, my room, and the bathroom; but I craved to know more. 

The attic was first; mostly because it was the single place in this house I was most afraid of (I am deathly afraid of spiders). It was dark and wooden, but clean. I was amazed at how many antiques and artifacts were kept in neat order; it reminded me of a museum. Seeing as I was so clumsy, I figured it was best to explore around a room that didn't have so many expensive breakables. 

Down the attic stairs, I decided to enter the first room I came to; it didn't have a bed, instead the walls were littered with shelves upon shelves of books and cd's and journals. There were stacks of handwritten journals all over the floors, and artwork on the walls. There was a lounge sofa and an armchair in the room. It was modern, yet cozy. 

The room that followed that one was a closet, it only held dressers and racks of women's clothes and shoes; the room that followed that was of the same sort, but for that of men. No doubt that was Alice's doing. 

Next was Carlisle's office. It was grand with lots of leather-bound books, mahogany shelves, and chocolate leather. There were photographs and paintings on the walls, but it had a very formal and executive feel to the place. I strolled along the shelves and read some titles of medical journals before I exited that room; heading for the next. 

Alice and Jasper's room was cozy and bright; it was kept neat and organized. It looked like it was rarely ever used. Rosalie's room and Carlisle and Esme's room followed in the same fashion. 

It was the furthest door down the hall, past mine. My heart gave a jolt and began racing at the excitement; this must have been his room, this was where he slept. My hand was shaking as I gripped the doorknob, turning it. I took my time pushing open the door. 

The room looked a lot like Edward's except that it had a full size bed in the middle. There weren't much music in the room; but there were tons of books, video games, and comic books of every variety. I could tell that he liked cars and manly stuff just by looking around. It was all very exciting to me; seeing where he lived, his man cave. 

There was a journal on the bedside table, and it was opened. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I walked over with every intention on seeing into the mind of the man I secretly admired. I could hear my heart beat in my ears, nervous and excited. Whatever was written was going to be in his pen, his own words. 

Just as I had bent down to pick the leather book up, I nearly jumped out of my skin at a silky, husky voice. It was angry. "What do you think you are doing?!" 

I wheeled around, and there was Emmett Cullen in the flesh.