Clearer (J.HALE)

14

I don't know how long I was out for.

Long enough for Meg to worry, since I woke up in the Cullens' living room. I couldn't speak, though—my throat was too raw. I could barely rasp out a simple "yes" or "no" to Carlisle's questions as he checked me over, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, the usual. I couldn't really listen for a while, either. It was like I was underwater, or there was a bag over my head.

There were a few new faces in the room.

A blonde girl—catastrophically beautiful—with suspicious eyes and a huge, bear-like boy with dark curls and cherub cheeks, who seemed to be involved in some way. There was hardly a second that they weren't in physical contact of some kind, and from Carlisle's descriptions I suspected them to be Rosalie and Emmett. There was also a strikingly thin brunette with spiked, gelled hair who had such a surplus of energy she kept twitching. She flitted back and forth around the room, trying to busy herself and failing, and I couldn't keep up. She'd introduced herself to me as Alice, at some point. It suited her.

Jasper stood by the glass doors, impassive. The bronze-haired boy, Edward, was with him, and neither of them looked relaxed. Every time Edward looked at me, I felt like there was a fly buzzing around my head that I could never catch, no matter how much I swatted. Esme was nowhere to be seen, which I tried not to be put out by.

I was still cold. Not the same kind of cold as before—I'd never felt cold like that—but like I had no energy to heat myself. My muscles felt empty without that cold, though. Like I'd lost something.

"Here," Meg said, holding out a sandwich on a plate to me.

"I'm not hungry," I croaked.

"You need to get your blood sugar up."

"I'm not hungry."

I could feel it. The same feeling of that morning in Jacob's house. Everyone in the room knew something that I didn't. They were avoiding my eyes, busying themselves with quiet conversation and keeping their distance, trying to get me fed and prepared for whatever bombshell they were about to drop on me.

"Just a bit," Carlisle said. "For the baby."

I couldn't bring myself to scowl at him. Obvious manipulation, but it worked. I couldn't really taste it as I chewed, but I wasn't really paying attention anyway. I just went through the motions, opening and closing my jaw behind firmly pressed lips, swallowing once the food lost its solidness.

"When you're ready, can I talk to you in the study?"

I nodded and took another bite of the sandwich before abandoning it on the coffee table. I followed him out the room, the blanket hanging from my shoulders trailing on the floor behind me, and down the corridor. He opened the last door on the right, stepping into a small room with a desk in the centre, housing a computer and stacks of books and papers. Two of the walls were bookcases, full of volumes upon volumes of thick, academic literature, and there was a small window on the back wall behind the desk. I sat down in the chair opposite.

"Your vitals look okay," he said, sinking down into the desk chair and scratching the bridge of his nose. "I'll get you in for another ultrasound tomorrow, just in case."

I nodded, tight-lipped.

"How do you feel?"

"Bit shit, if I'm honest."

His lips inched toward a smile. "Not surprised."

I glanced sideways and swallowed, the saliva scratching down my oesophagus like a mouthful of gravel.