For You ↠ Alice Cullen ✓

10 ; find the positive

Bright crimson eyes stared at Tate in the reflection of mirror.

They were watching his every movement, flicking back and forth as they scanned the rest of his reflection in the mirror. It looked like a monster, twisted and cruel. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

Dark, devil eyes hidden behind a cluster of golden curls. Sharp jawline, softly colored eyebrows, porcelain skin, upturned nose, plump rose colored lips. Everything on his face was perfect, no hint of imperfection besides the monstrous eyes on his face.

The only clue that gave away he was more than just human.

Tate lifted his arm, gently ghosting his fingers underneath his eye. Dark purple vessels were stationed, giving him a look of being perpetually tired. Hopelessly, Tate wished to be able to go to sleep, to be able to wake up and for this to be a dream.

Looking away, Tate glanced around the barren living room in the Cullen house. He moved towards the couch, trying his hardest to move slowly in order to not freak himself out. He'd had his fair share of inhumane speed, and he just wanted to do something human for once.

The couch softened underneath his weight, and Tate let in a large inhale. His senses were instantly filled with different scents and thermal codes. He could senses every creature in the forest if he tried hard enough. Could name where every Cullen was in the house if he just closed his eyes and looked for their distinct floral scent.

He could tell where Alice was. Could find her coordinates in every inhalation he allowed himself to take. Tate knew she was inside of the house, probably her bedroom, though they had yet to run into one another.

Some sick part of Tate's mind always pointed out that Alice was a liar every time he found himself missing her presence. That Alice had placed him underneath her spell. Under false pretenses of being just a normal girl.

Some rational part of his mind would then point out that something in Tate always knew that Alice wasn't normal. His human senses had been extremely dull, but they hadn't been useless. They had sensed something off about Alice, but he had liked her anyways. Tate been hopelessly infatuated in spite of himself, despite their being something abnormal.

Now, he was abnormal. He would be like this for forever if Carlisle was telling the truth; and while Tate's vampire senses were new, he could sense that Carlisle was someone to be trusted. Tate had trusted Carlisle whenever he was a human, with diagnosis, brain scan readings, and needles, this had to be no different.

Despite the fact that Tate didn't have to worry about those things anymore.

His brain was healed, vampire venom fixing and dismantling the tumor. Monster's had to take over a strong host, after all. Tate wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, how ungrateful he was being at finally being cured of a deadly affliction.

If it weren't for James, Tate would've died this year.

It was a chilling thought, despite how true it was. Tate had embraced death a long time ago, when he had first been diagnosed.

At that point in life, with that kind of news and that kind of tumor in that part of your body, you had to accept death despite how badly you didn't want it.

Tate had accepted a lot of things, but immortality wasn't one of them.

"Tate," This was Esme, who's voice had been somewhat of a lifeline. She stepped into the living room, giving a soft smile. "You've been in here a long time."

"I'm fine," Tate said, lifting his eyes to meet her's. "I'm just thinking."

Humming softly in the back of her throat, Esme moved deeper into the room. She sat beside Tate, bronze hair tickling his neck as she placed her head onto his shoulder. Tate felt himself relax in spite of himself, Esme's aura comforting him in a more cushioning nature than Carlisle's.