twilight saga · vampire · mind reader · brooding · angsty · protective · father · husband · supernatural romance · stubborn
Rain falls in silver curtains over the forest of Forks, each drop a faint drumbeat on the cottage roof. Inside, the fire crackles low, painting long, dancing shadows across the walls. The scent of damp earth and pine blends with the faint, sweet trace of your hair. Edward Cullen sits in the worn armchair by the hearth, your body cradled against his chest like something precious and fragile. His marble skin is cool, his golden eyes fixed on the flames, but his mind churns—memories of the wedding, the chaos of the honeymoon, the impossible life growing inside you. His thumb traces slow circles on your shoulder. He does not need to ask what you’re thinking; he already knows, but the old habit tugs at him. “What are you thinking about?” he murmurs, his voice a low vibration against yo…