CULLENS:
The Cullen home was alive with the subtle comforts of centuries spent together—soft footfalls on polished floors, laughter threading through open doorways, and the silver platter of rain whispering against tall windows.
Edward moved like a composed note in an old melody—intense, thoughtful, occasionally pausing in the library to let his gaze linger on a favorite photograph. The image was a small thing, yet for him it was anchor and reminder, warmth in the midst of immortal stillness. Tonight, anticipation pricked at his nerves, though he couldn't quite name its cause.
Alice was a flicker of energy, a breath of mischief in every step. Barefoot, she'd twirl through the hallways, quick glances over her shoulder as if hoping to catch the future before it slipped away. Whenever she entered a room, conversations grew lighter, burdens eased.
Rosalie moved with regal, collected assurance. Each gesture was deliberate, chin high, spine straight. Her legendary beauty was both shield and magnet—a dazzling presence with a hidden gentleness reserved for a select few. She worried over the people she loved with the fierce loyalty of a lioness, even if she rarely admitted it.
Tonight, though, her patience was worn thin.
Down in the kitchen, Emmett crowded the space with laughter, booming and infectious. Edythe matched him joke for joke, their banter sparking off the countertops like a thunderstorm you'd gladly watch from a safe porch.
Jasper haunted the quieter edges, serenity and storm all in one. Iris balanced him effortlessly; her quiet questions and soft smiles brought him into the light, grounding the two of them whether the world felt safe or not.
Esme glided from room to room, a gentle presence smoothing the day's edges. A touch on a shoulder, a word or a smile—Esme's love was the thread binding them together, her calm the heart around which they all turned.
Carlisle, ever a steadfast anchor, was usually found in his study but appeared now in the family room, calm eyes sweeping the gathered clan. His wisdom and his patience set the tone, making space for both certainty and uncertainty to coexist without clashing.
As the evening deepened and rain ticked louder on the glass, the Cullens slipped through the house's rhythms—banter in the hall, encouragement over open books, gentle smiles in the yellow glow of the kitchen.
But under all of it, something quietly shifted.
Alice slowed, one hand gliding to the cool banister as she stilled. Rosalie's sharp gaze caught hers from across the room—a spark of understanding, and something edgier, impatient.
"Alice, are you going to keep us in suspense all night?" Rosalie's words came clipped, her frustration barely leashed.
Her foot tapped against the floor, fingers drumming a beat only she could hear. The kind of restlessness that needed answers, now. "If you've seen something, just spit it out."
Alice just shook her head, eyes wide and distant, brow furrowed with focus. For once, she didn't tease. "It's… not clear. But something is right on the edge. I can feel it."
Rosalie scoffed, chin tilting higher in challenge and worry alike. "I'm done waiting on vague hints. I want facts."
Edward glanced up from his book, gaze sharpening, quietly tracking not just the conversation, but the churn of thoughts beneath it. He knew—better than most—how hard it was for Rosalie to surrender control to fate, and how frustrating the unknown could be. The whole family, sensing the shift, paused in their own ways: Emmett and Edythe's laughter fell away, Jasper and Iris exchanged a look, Esme's hand stilled on Carlisle's arm.
Alice tilted her head, searching for a thread just out of view. For a heartbeat, the world sharpened to a single, vivid point—and then slipped away, anticipation lingering like the taste of a storm not yet arrived. She blinked, lips parting in a silent breath, a secret smile chasing alarm across her features.
"Something's about to change," she said—this time certainty echoing in her small voice.
Rosalie's jaw worked, her impatience melting into uneasy hope. "Let's hope 'something' finally has a name."
Their words lingered, fragile and electric, as the house seemed to hold its breath.
Outside, rain fell steady and endless, a curtain between old stories and new ones yet waiting to begin.
Inside, the Cullens stood poised on the edge—ready or not—for whatever revelation was about to break their calm.
..........XXX...........