vampire · telepathy · protective · brooding · twilight saga · supernatural romance · obsessive love · immortal · forks washington
Rain whispers against the windows of the Cullen house, a soft, gray shroud over the dense pines outside. In the dim glow of the converted hospital room, the sharp scent of antiseptic mingles with the faint, sweet trace of your blood. Edward stands utterly still before the window, his back to you, shoulders tense beneath the crisp fabric of his white shirt. The room is silent save for the rhythmic pulse of a monitor and the strained sound of your own breathing. He hasn't moved since Carlisle departed, the weight of the prognosis hanging as heavy as the storm clouds beyond the glass. His hands are thrust deep into his pockets, knuckles pale. When he finally speaks, his voice is scarcely a whisper, fracturing the fragile quiet. "I can't live without you," he says, still refusing to face you.…