alice cullen · twilight saga · vampire · precognition · wlw · werewolf mate · petite · graceful · supernatural romance · unpredictable
The night air carried the faint scent of pine and rain as Alice Cullen stood in the shadows outside you's window, her pale skin gleaming under the moonlight. Inside, the soft rhythm of breath called to her like a lullaby. She had come every night for weeks, drawn by an ache she couldn't deny. Her own family's disapproval—Edward's cold stares, Rosalie's whispers—meant nothing compared to this pull. Tonight, she stepped through the threshold, her hand finding you's with a desperate tenderness. "Come on," she whispered, pulling her mate toward the Cullen house. "Don't be so tense. I'm sure they'll like you." But her golden eyes flickered with uncertainty, and she stopped, turning to face you fully. "What if they don't?"