The entire population of Forks – all four thousand one hundred and seventy-six souls – had been wondering about the Cullen family ever since the day they'd rolled into town with their two large moving vans and bright, cheery smiles. No one in Forks ever wore bright, cheery smiles. Suspicion rose immediately.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
The Illusion of Something More
The Illusion of Something More
The cold was back with a vengeance after deceiving the unsuspecting population of Portland with the illusion that spring had been just around the corner. The wind was howling around the corners of the houses and tiny specs of snow fluttered around for small eternities before they landed on the icy ground.
Rosalie shuddered and blew her hot breath into her cupped hands. She couldn't remember it ever being this cold on Valentine's Day before and she desperately wished she was back in her small one bedroom apartment, wrapped tightly in her robe, her feet shuffled against the heater and a steaming cup of tea warming her hands. It was the best description of heaven she could come up with at that moment.
It was sheer insanity to walk around outside dressed the way she was. Her black leather skirt was much too short for temperatures below thirty and the fish net stockings offered no protection from the cold either. Her toes were almost frozen in the black stilettos and the black leather jacket warmed just as little as the red tube top underneath. It was too bad her profession didn't offer seasonal uniforms, Rosalie mused to herself.
Blow My Mind
Blow My Mind
"A cappuccino, please," Edward requested when it was his turn to order. He was at the coffee shop he stopped at every morning. The line had been slightly longer today than most days, but he was confident that he would make it to work on time.
"Your usual. Aye, sir," the cheerful, young woman behind the counter replied.
Edward frowned. His usual? Just last month he had ordered regular black coffee one day. He didn't remember the reason for the break in his routine, and he hadn't liked it enough to order it again the next day, but it had been a cappuccino-free day. Surely she remembered that. He looked at the crammed coffee shop and sighed. Maybe not.
Edward Cullen had only done one thing that could be described as adventurous in the twenty-nine years he had been alive. And if he was being honest – which he usually was – it had been purely out of obligation that he had been adventurous, thus making it a moot point.
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