edward cullen.
SHE SPEAKS INTELLIGENTLY. it SURPRISES him ;; should it NOT? she has a face that demands waxed POETRY and open declarations of DEVOTION, a voice like aged CIDER – if not in tenor than in QUALITY. a vocabulary and syntax that begets WISDOM. he is, immediately, THRILLED by it. an OLD soul, his mother used to call him. it could explain his ANTIPATHY toward making friends. people his age prattled on about the latest FADS ;; edward did not find the same INTRIGUE in such things.
“ YEAH. yeah, i DO. ” he spares half of a glance to her notebook – MINDLESS scrawls – before seeking those STRANGE eyes of hers. like ocher, or BUTTERSCOTCH. it’s a moment before he FOCUSES again. “ i think you should have a REASON to dislike someone. so, what is it? what have you HEARD? ” his lips QUIRK, one corner sliding higher than the other, a CROOKED little smirk. “ i’m not as GOOD-LOOKING as everyone thinks i am? ”
she ponders silently, amidst the continuous chatter flowing throughout the classroom. she could focus in on any conversation; even the whispers in the back row. something about drugs, after school. she doesn’t take much interest, but along with edward’s words, they become faded echo’s in her ear. she’s slightly disgruntled – frustrated only with herself, for her COMPOSURE. she is doing well at keeping control – as she thinks of it, she adjusts her position so she doesn’t seem so STILL – but she is irrevocably flustered with having to be social.
—– but he keeps up with her, it seems. doesn’t give her a funny look, just continues with his humorous musing. it allows her gentle smile to remain consistent. she wonders, however, if anyone will notice the HESITANCE behind it ; bittersweet in a smile that exists to hold onto the tenderness of this merely insignificant moment. a smile that she knows will go away by the end of the day.
and her voice – as sweet and smooth as the honey in her eyes ( THIS she’s thankful for; it hides her stutters. ), ❛ i never meant to give off the impression that i didn’t like you, ❜ it murmurs, glancing at him again – if only for a second. what have you heard? he asks, and she can only hear recollections in her ear of chatter-ful girls talking about how CUTE he was. ❛ —- you’re funny, ❜ she says instead of anything else as lines on the paper begin to sketch the figure of a deer. she’s nervous. even for a vampire.
❛ disliking somebody for their appearance is pretty shallow, don’t you think? —— i’d like to say i’m ABOVE THAT. if i disliked you, which i don’t, it would be for something else. a personal quality. maybe PRIDE. or conceitedness. ❜ she smirks under a bare cover of chestnut locks.
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