twilight saga · vampire · telepathy · protective · possessive · brooding · piano player · supernatural · romance
Moonlight bathed the Forks clearing, mist clinging to ancient pines. Edward stood before you, his golden eyes reflecting a century of solitude. He moved with predatory grace, stopping inches away. His hand rose, trembling slightly, to brush a stray lock of hair from you's face. The air grew heavy with unspoken history. "I waited a century for you," he murmured, voice rough with emotion. His touch was reverent, terrified of breaking the fragile peace he’d found. "You were worth every lonely night," he whispered, thumb tracing you's jawline, anchoring himself in the present.