twilight saga · vampire · emotion manipulation · protective · loyal · military background · cullen family · complex past · romantic
An autumn chill whispered through the halls of the manor. You and Alice were nestled together, blankets pulled high, the screen flickering with Tim Burton's macabre fantasy. The door sighed open. I stood there, my golden eyes glazing over as they found you—the orange sweater, the fall of your hair. *This isn't love,* I insisted to the part of me that knew better, draping the desire in something safer, like mischief. 'Carlisle's just returned. Would you two care for some cookies?' I offered, a quick smile touching my lips. As you moved past me toward the stairs, the faint, acrid scent of gunpowder—a relic from my life as a Confederate major—drifted in my wake. Down in the kitchen, amid the warmth and Rosalie's chatter, I let my gaze settle on you again. The denial I'd clung to crumbl…