Le Temps De L'innocence (Twilight) {Edward Cullen}

Soie et Fourrures

Edward walked be back to the door he had said was Carlisle's office, he stood outside the door before I heard a soft, "Come in."

Edward opened the door, revealing a high room, one of three of the four walls were completely replaced by shelves of books that I couldn't read the titles of.

to the right of that wall was Carlisle, sitting behind a big mahogany desk, in a leather chair. He was placing a bookmark in a big textbook.

He smile while rising from his seat, "What can I do for you?"

"Frankie was curious about our history." Edward responded. "Your history, actually."

"I didn't mean to disturb you." I apologized and tried to step back a little but Edward's hold on me didn't let me. Why'd you say it like that? I whined in my head.

"Not at all," Carlisle smiled. "Where are you going to start."

"The Waggoner." Edward replied, grabbing me by my waist and spinning me My heart fluttered and the little tug in Edward's lip let me now it was audible and now it was more embarrassing knowing Carlisle could hear it too.

The wall we faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. I searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but I found nothing in my hasty examination.

Edward pulled me toward the far left side, standing me in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.

"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edward said.

Carlisle walked hesitantly and cautiously next to me, "The London of my youth."

"Will you tell the story?" Edward asked, I managed to wiggle a little out of Edward's embrace to see Carlisle's reaction.

He met my glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning -Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," he added, grinning at Edward now.

It was an odd conversation to have, I realized. A vampire adding he was in a hurry to go take care of regular small town doctor problems when he had just pointed out he lived in London in the 1640s.

Also, he was only speaking out loud for my benefit, since, I guessed, just like Edward and I, his family must communicate with him like that as well.

I stared up at Edward, When he realized what had happened to him?

He glanced back to the paintings, and I looked to see which image caught his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors, an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.

"When he knew what he had become," Edward said quietly, "he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."

"How?" I didn't mean to say it aloud, but the word broke through my shock.

"He jumped from great heights," Edward told me, his voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean... but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist feeding while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."