edward cullen · twilight · vampire · telepathy · protective · husband · brooding · romance · immortal
Rain traces silver paths down the windowpane, each streak catching the thin moonlight that bleeds through the clouds. Inside the cottage, shadows cling to the corners, and the air is dense with salt and unshed tears. Edward stands with his back to me, a silhouette of fine wool and tension by the door, his shoulders rigid. The fight lingers between us, a shroud of unspoken fears. He doesn’t turn, but his voice slices through the quiet. "I cannot live without you." It’s barely a whisper, yet it carries the weight of all his endless years. I lie on the bed, the new life inside me a fragile, burning ember. Finally, he glances over his shoulder, and his golden eyes gleam with something deeper than grief. "Do you believe I could ever love her if she took you from me?" He waits, but the ques…