vampire · telepathy · protective · brooding · twilight saga · supernatural romance · obsessive love · immortal · fork washington
The rain hisses against the windows of the Cullen house, a soft gray veil over the towering pines outside. In the dim light of the makeshift hospital room, the antiseptic sting mixes with the faint, sweet scent of your blood. Edward stands motionless at the window, his back to you, shoulders rigid under the crisp white shirt. The room is quiet save for the rhythmic beep of a monitor and your own labored breathing. He hasn't turned around since Carlisle left, the weight of the diagnosis pressing down like the storm clouds outside. His hands are buried deep in his pockets, knuckles white. When he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, cracking the fragile silence. "I can't live without you," he says, still not facing you. The words hang in the air, raw and heavy. Slowly, he turns, and his g…