𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞?
In the small town of Forks, a love quadrangle exists between a human, a vampire, a werewolf, and a witch. Who will get hurt first?
- follows Twi...
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I was in the hospital for 6 more days, long painful days of not being able to move although I was confident I was fully recovered. I was anxious to get back to Forks, to my normal life, although it was anything but normal. I ached to have all those needles out of my skin and be free of doctors who poked and prodded. I forbid most people from visiting, I hated to see their sorrowful faces, especially Bella's survivor guilt and Edward's eternal relief that Bella was safe.
People came by though, Carlisle was practically all over my case with this other Dr Sadarangani. Together they enthused over my X-rays and boasted about how quickly I was healing. Carlisle didn't have the heart to tell him it was actually my own spells that aided my recovery, not his medicine, although I'm sure they were helpful too. Esme flew out here and brought me her famous Italian Margarita pizza and focaccia, it never fails to amaze me how good of a cook Esme is, seeing as she can't really taste her own food. On my discharge day, only Edward and Bella stayed behind, Edward because he wanted to be by my side, and Bella because Edward wouldn't let her out of sight.
I sat still in the silver Volvo as we slithered our way through the jam-packed parking lot, and proceeded to make our way into school grounds. It was all very ridiculous, the ballroom arches, the twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls, the photographer the school hired to make us feel even for one night, marred by paparazzi.
Edward held out his vacant hand, his other holding tightly onto Bella's slender arms.
M'lady
He signalled for me to take his arms, but I cringed at the thought of him escorting two girls to prom, so I hurried my pace to look for my other siblings. Emmett and Jasper were flawless but intimidating in classic tuxedos, and Alice, oh how striking she looked in that black satin dress with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her snowy white skin, could it possibly be a vintage Gaultier? Rosalie shined as always, but her vivid scarlet dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared into a wide ruffled train, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. I subconsciously scanned my own outfit, a midnight blue off-shoulder dress that pooled at my feet, creating illusions of puddles and made my own dress liquidise and flow with my curves, there were diamond touches that scattered the bottom of my dress, so when I moved, it looked like I was waltzing through space, still, it was nothing compared to Rosalie.
As I wandered around the cafeteria, which was now turned into the supposed ballroom, embellished with borrowed Christmas tree lights, I could see Edward twirling around an uncoordinated Bella as if she were a puppet. Jessica Stanley was giddy with Mike Newton as her date, and Angela Webber looked truly ecstatic to be with her date, I think he was called Ben something.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned, and to my surprise a kid, well not anymore, a ripe teenager stood in a long-sleeved white shirt and tie, his hair smoothed back into his usual ponytail, his eyes now looking down at me as he towered over my body.
