#cullen!reader

“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”

“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.

“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.

“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.

“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.

“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.

You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.

“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.

“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.

“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.

“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.

“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.

“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”

“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.

“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.

“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”

“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.

“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.

“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.

Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.

“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.

It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.

But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.

Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.

But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.

Since the arrival of the new potions assistant, Miss Cullen, Remus has been… Quite restless.

Something about her made his wolf particularly alert, uneasy. However, he couldn't pinpoint what actually made him tense. She seemed competent in potions, knew what she was doing, and was surprisingly great at giving directions. Which was a fortune, seeing that Slughorn lacked in that category.

Everyone seemed to adore her. Her insanely gorgeous looks– supernatural beauty, inhuman even– made guys and girls swoon altogether. The more intellectual students fell for her Victorian kind of speech, though. Her immense knowledge of infinite subjects. Everything you could think of, well… She knew it.

She also looked somewhat normal… Save for her unusual honey gaze and fair– verging on pale– complexion, that is. She had an eerie vibe around her, a veil of mystery and danger flowed at her every step, a bride proudly walking down the aisle on her wedding day. Having her piercing gaze on yourself… It felt like knives kissing your skin, drawing blood in their wake. Yet, her honey eyes were alluring. No matter how hard you tried, they always caught your attention, always pulled you in. And once you locked eyes with her… Looking away was beyond the bounds of possibility.

A single glance of hers should have triggered everyone's flight instinct. Ironically, it wasn't the case. The Hogwarts population seemed to hang on her every word, kissed the ground she walked on, students and professors both.

This situation bewildered Remus. Was he really the only one seeing her for what she was? A mortal danger, a siren. He kept on getting mixed signals from her; sometimes he felt she was to be trusted. The remaining times, however… His safety was compromised. Alerting the guys about his suspicions was also a lost cause. No matter how serious or grave his tone was. They, too, had fallen for her undeniable charm. And sadly, there was no way out.

Unless he could out her. Yes, he could seek out a proof, anything that confirmed his theory. He would read every book held in the library about monsters, mythical creatures, foreign legends; Because she was not human. That much was clear to him. He just needed to find out what she was.

From that point forward, he began to devote less time to his friends and more to conducting research in a secluded corner of the library, partially concealed by the shelves and the piles of dusty books that occupied every available space on his table.‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’, ‘The Book of Imaginary Beings’, ‘The Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures: The Ultimate A-Z of Fantastic Beings from Myth and Magic’ became his primary sources, and he was never seen without at least one of these books in hand.

It had become almost an obsession. He *had* to find out what she was. Definitely not a werewolf like him, he would have smelt it for sure. Not even a mermaid, because they couldn't walk on earth. A siren, perhaps? She was just as cunning and as deadly beautiful as described, but the same problem persisted; Didn't have legs and couldn't perform spells. The issue was that she seemed to execute perfect spells, and not even one being in the books was said to be able to have magic like wizards do. But she could. It complicated everything further.

To optimize time, he scanned the books with the information he had; pale skin, magnetic eyes, wizards’ abilities, inhuman beauty, bronze eyes. Nothing matched her description. He once had come across a chapter about vampires, and it partially fit what he knew about her, but then again there were one too many inconsistencies. She had no red eyes, she wasn't bald– unlike most vampires were depicted as– and then again, she could perform magic.

At some point, Remus dropped the research altogether, resigned and unmotivated to continue searching. It was a lost cause. The failure took a hard toll on him, and it worried his friends. Nor Sirius, James, or Peter had ever seen him so… Lifeless. Passionless. During the meals, they tried to engage him more in conversations, spit out jokes that once made him laugh out loud like a madman.

They tried everything. Sirius even dropped his shenanigans and sat down to study for real to get a reaction out of him. Peter stole a couple of his chocolate bars, James messed up his ironed socks to get a rise out of him. It didn't work. Nothing worked. Remus just… Stared straight ahead of him, apparently absorbed in his thoughts, eyes completely blank. His favourite books remained untouched on his desk, left to gather dust. So unlike him.

However, they noticed that in potions class, his usual spark was regained, no more lost into the endless oblivion of his mind. He was hyper attentive, eyes following Miss Cullen's every move like a hawk eyeing his prey. How she glided across the desks with her spine stiff like a board to correct eventual mistakes, how she could hear muttered conversations from students sitting all the way in the back of the class. How she always seemed to stop her wandering eyes on himself for a few seconds too long. He was careful to not lose even an imperceptible detail about her. His behaviour unsettled them greatly. His obsession with her had become unhealthy.

They came to the conclusion to confront him about it after the lesson ended, strong–headed on helping their friend out. They couldn't understand his reasons, Miss Cullen was nothing short of brilliant and professional. There was nothing to suspect about her.

Remus begged to differ, though. She strode over to him, honey gaze set on him and his cauldron, a slight smirk pulling on her lips as she stopped by his desk and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Pray, Mr. Lupin, everything alright? You are not, perchance, lagging behind in today's lesson, are you?”, she muttered in her sultry voice, hand grazing his arm to look over his notes.

Remus, already frowning at her unexpected approach, suddenly let out a sharp gasp, his whole face breaking in surprise. Merlin's balls, she was freezing. His widened eyes slowly looked up from her pale hand to her eyes, only to find them already staring right back at him, almost like she was challenging him.

Her body temperature seemed under zero, it was like touching a dead body. He hadn't accounted for this in his research, of course he couldn't find a match. He was so back in the game.

He gulped and inhaled deeply, as if he was trying to get back his composure, lost by a single fleeting touch of her hand. There was no time to be scared or hesitant, he needed to take action. She was right in front of him, looking pleased with herself for her little mind game and the effect it had on him, and he couldn't waste this opportunity to confront her directly. To let her know he was on her tail.

“Everything’s going smoothly, thanks for asking, Miss Cullen. However, I do have a question for you, since you've got so much knowledge”, he spoke up confidently, looking straight in her eyes, telling her he wasn’t by any means enchanted by her ways.

Her eyebrows shot up, and her lips curved in sheer amusement. “Well then, proceed with your inquiries. It’s a portion of my duties to resolve any doubts harboured by the students, no?”

He only smiled wider, taking great enjoyment at her veiled jabs, concealed by politeness. “Of course, of course… Do you know if monsters or fantastic beings can perform magic? Like us wizards?”

“It's for a DADA essay, you see”, he was quick to add.

She, obviously, had caught on to his intentions, and only after staring at him for a few seconds, chuckling under her breath incredulously, did she answer, a mischief spark lighting up her otherwise dull eyes.

“Indeed, it is so. Divers turned monsters may yet retain their ability for sorcery. A salient instance is afforded by werewolves. I daresay you are already well–acquainted with such creatures, am I not correct?”

Remus stood frozen in his seat, jaw, and fists clenched. So she knew. And his reaction only fuelled her amusement, it seemed. She shot him a last smile, returning to her full height and smoothing out her satin skirt in utmost calmness, as if she felt victorious of their little competition.

“You made a spelling mistake on line fifteen, word twelve, by the way”, and with that, she got back to her route with a pleased sneer painting her god–sculptured lips. While Remus was left seeing red in his seat, clenching his quill so hard it was a miracle it didn't break in half.

‘Sly bitch’ he repeated bitterly in his head, glaring daggers at her back, until Slughorn's voice called for the class to be dismissed, and his mates materialized in front of him, wearing worried frowns.

“Moony… What's happening to you mate?”, asked James, in a soft voice he didn't use even with Lily.

“Yeah, we're worried about your little obsession with Miss Cullen. I get it, she's smoking hot and incredibly fit and just so my type–”, continued Sirius, interrupted by Peter's eye roll and a muttered ‘we get it, mate’. To which Sirius couldn't help but reply with a nasty glare before looking back at Remus with a concerned frown.

“–But that is not your case”

Peter spoke up, “… why do you hate her so much? She did nothing wrong, did she?”

Remus just sighed exasperated, packing his things with more strength than needed, refusing to look at them. “If you guys would just listen to me for once, you'd understand that she's trying to fool us all. Actually, I'll tell you more. She's succeeding”

And with that, he stood up abruptly, speeding out the classroom without looking back.

“… He's near a full moon and we didn't notice?”, asked Sirius

James sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

There had to be somewhere. It'd be impossible for her to be some creature yet undiscovered. He grabbed a book from the highest pile on his library desk, skimming through it impatiently.

Not a mermaid, not a siren, not a merpeople– definitely not an aquatic creature. That left out land creatures. He opened the next chapter. Not a werewolf, not a centaur, not a dryad. He crossed out land creatures. Opened the ‘Night Creatures’ chapter. Not a banshee, not a succubi, not a ghoul.

Nothing.

She was nothing, according to this book.

And what can a frustrated seventeen year old boy do with a completely useless book? Throw it away, of course!

Perhaps it wasn't one of Remus' brightest ideas. Who goes with the lame learns to limp, right? ‘If you sleep with dogs, you'll wake up with fleas’, would be more fitting for Sirius. However, his mates all had a disgusting amount of luck following around them. And this time, bless Merlin and his balls, it rubbed off him too.

Books were scattered everywhere. On the desk, on the floor. But one in particular stood out among the chaos of pages: a brown book cover, old and ruined by time, covered in dust. The black title had partially faded, the only word he was able to make out was ‘Quileute’, whatever that meant. He picked it up from the ground, careful to handle it, removing the layer of dust with his hand.

All his frustration dissipated as he opened the ancient–looking book, coming face to face with the first page.

‘Collection of legends of the Native American tribe of the Quileutes’, it read. He never heard about them, never even read about their existence. However… He was already wasting his time reading all those nonsense books, why not waste a couple of minutes more to read this one?

He searched for the contents table.

Bayaq – Raven, T'ist'ilal – Thunderbird, Dask'iya, Q'wati, Apotamkin – the Cold Ones.

His eyes skimmed over the words, yawning loudly. He had been on the verge of giving up a second time, perhaps definitively. Yet, this book gave him a spark of hope. He didn't need to necessarily know why, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. Native American legends, as far as he knew, were numerous. And that meant that surely there would be her kind.

And so, he sat up straighter, cleaning the desk in front of him and brought the lamp closer. One by one, he read through each chapter with care and focus, starting from the first one written in the contents table.

‘Bayaq (the Raven), is a trickster figure, who sometimes aids the Quileute Tribe despite his reputation of greed, cleverness, laziness, arrogance, deceitfulness, and rudeness. In the legends, Bayaq often misbehaves, and gets in trouble for it. He brings light to people by creating the sun, moon, stars, or causes the tides, so people can harvest clams and other shellfish. To do this, he often transforms into a completely different shape.’

Miss Cullen had nothing to do with the Raven, he decided. As much as Remus swore he hated her, he could not say she was arrogant or lazy. And neither could she transform into various shapes. With a sigh, he opened the next chapter; T'ist'ilal – Thunderbird.

‘T'ist'ilal, or Thunderbird, is a vital figure to the Quileute Tribe. It's described to be an enormous bird, with equally huge wings, and with its strong claws, it can carry up to a whale. Its beating wings are said to create thunder and vicious storms.’

… Definitely not Miss Cullen.

‘Dask'iya, often called Basket Ogress, is a cannibal ogress who captures children in her basket and eats them in her home. Her figure is typically used to scare children and earn them away from bad behaviour.’

Remus let out a chuckle at reading that.

He pictured the Quileute children, trembling before the dangerous and vicious child–eating ogress.

His parents had told him something along the lines, too, when he was a toddler. He recalled the times when he'd stare at the dark forest from his window to catch a glimpse of the black, evil man lurking in the shadows, waiting just for little Remus to wander in the woods.

And while still laughing under his breath, absorbed in memories, he stilled and froze in his seat when the noise of a chair scratching on the floor reached his ears.

He waited for someone to appear from the dark shelves, sitting on the edge of his chair, breath caught in his throat.

He couldn't see anything, it was too dark to make out anything.

The only source of light in the whole library came from his lantern, and its beam only illuminated his desk.

He didn't dare to move a single muscle. His hands were gripping tightly the book, knuckles white from the force, a cold sweat running down his spine.

His mind was playing tricks on him, of course it was. He probably was imagining everything. There were no sounds. Over the library reigned a still silence, so still that he was certain it was all made up by his brain. He convinced himself of being alone, that it'd be impossible for anyone else to be there– not many would choose the library for their nightly rendezvous.

… But why was his heart thumping? Perhaps that was it. Just his too–loud heartbeat ringing in his mind. It could be mistaken very well for a chair being moved.

However, the sound that followed could not.

A quiet, sultry chuckle. A quiet, sultry chuckle that sounded too near.

He looked at his right, eyes squinting at the dark. Then, he grasped the lamp and pointed it towards the shelves. The dim yellow light didn't do much, but what he glimpsed was enough to make his blood freeze.

There she stood. Tall, still, and breathtaking. With the lamp’s glow casting shadows on her face, pitch black orbs piercing through him–

Wait. Black?

And before he could even start freaking out about it, she stepped into the light, timeless beauty that had to distract him from her deadliness blinding him. She was not wearing her usual little smirk. A frown was pulled into her lips.

He gulped soundly. “Not in a good mood, Miss Cullen?”, he deflected, his voice trembling. ‘Damn me’, he lectured himself.

She was silent for a few minutes, just… Observing him. Dissecting his soul piece by piece with only the intensity of her eyes. And after what felt like an eternity, she took some steps closer to him, circling his desk like a proud leopard would.

One of her hands moved to lay on the dark wood, fingers gliding across the edge of it with an excruciating gentleness that radiated off the opposite feeling. He was anxious. His thoughts had stopped running a mile per second, frozen by fear, pinned by her stare. His heart was however thumping so loudly he thought he was gonna drop dead at any moment. He was sure she could hear it. Could smell it.

She came to a stop right in front of him, the dusty piles of books acting as the only thing separating them. Leaning over the desk, she took a few more seconds to just look at him. Perhaps she was thriving on the sweet smell of his blatant fear.

“You're out past curfew, Remus”, she whispered in a low, sultry voice that scraped his brain in a way that made him want to recoil.

When she wasn't met with an answer, she paused for a second, and he saw her eyes dropping to the book he was grasping onto for his dear life. “I should have burned that book when I first found it”, she claimed.

“But you've found it, there's no point in getting rid of it now”, she reasoned with herself. “Might as well do you a favour and allow you to reach your long–awaited peace of mind”, she purred out.

Remus’ muscles hadn't shown any sign of bolting away yet.

The sight only pulled an amused chuckle out of her. “Not talking yet?”, she asked, head tilted slightly.

His fingers twitched around the old book.

“Very well”, she smiled. She looked around the dark corner, humming delightfully when she saw what she was searching for.

The eerie silence was abruptly broken by the sound of a big wooden chair being dragged. She was dragging a thick, black ironwood chair to the desk like it weighted nothing. As if a feather was heavier than the chair.

Once she had come back and placed the chair across from him, she took a seat, swinging a leg on top of the other, watching him with a mischievous glint in her oddly black eyes.

“Very well, Remus. Tell me what you've found”, she sighed amused, looking at him expectantly.

At this point, Remus knew he had to swallow his little girl fear and stand his ground. She was right in front of him. Challenging him once again, like she had previously done a few hours prior. Yet, this felt more… Intimate. Or perhaps it was that feeling of false sense of security she seemed to radiate. This game; the cat and mouse, the research they were playing… It was dangerous. He could get hurt– or worse– if he kept playing it. But the way she was looking at him at that moment… Bless Godric, it only spurred him further.

And so, he swallowed, hard, and took a deep breath, begging his heart to calm down. He glanced briefly at the book and looked back at her with a newfound courage. ‘Try to bring me down again’.

He opened the book at the page he had left off his reading, and tossed it to her. “I figured you weren't a well–known creature, so I ditched the standard Care of Magical Creatures book. I came across this one, but it seems to be just as useless”, he declared.

She watched him with great interest, laughing lowly. “Useless, you say?”, she asked incredulously. “Let's take a look…”, she mumbled while gently picking up the volume. She flicked through the yellowing pages, reading bits of each one, and stopped on a page.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her grin now wider than ever. “Are you sure of what you've said, Remus?”, she inquired, fighting the urge to burst out laughing in his face.

But at that, his eyebrows only furrowed. He mouthed a perplexed ‘what?’ before leaning towards, snatching the book from her grasp.

‘Apotamkin – the Cold Ones’, read the chapter title.

His jaw clenched. If only he had continued reading… Then with a huff, he frustratedly started skimming through the text, a few words catching his interest;

“Cold–skinned. Undead. Vampire. Drank blood. Enhanced strength. Immortal”

His breath caught in his throat.

An involuntary chuckle from her broke the spell. He cautiously– afraid, perhaps– glanced up at her, jaw and fingers clenched. “You're…”, he started, still shook to the core by the notion to finish the sentence.

“A vampire? Yes”, she grinned, comfortably seated on the wooden chair. “A Cold One, if you're meticulous”, she shrugged, her smirk only widening as the seconds ticked by.

“But where I'm from, my kind of vampires is the only one existing”, she added.

“… Why are you here?”, he asked, no hint of amusement in his voice, unlike her.

“To teach, naturally. Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to inform me of a vacant assistant’s post in potions at Hogwarts, which I accepted. Therefore… Here I am”

“You know damn well that's not what I meant”, he glared.

She sighed, and leant forward, resting her arms on the desk, black shining eyes hardening slightly. “Listen, Remus. I do not know what you think I am, but I am not a murderer”, she said slowly, her tone almost threatening.

“How can I trust you?”, he leaned forward too, staring right back at her.

“I haven't fed on a human in decades”, she said lowly. “And before you add some more bullshit, I pride myself on my diet. You won't find many vampires willingly renounce to human blood”

She stood up, turning around to head to the exit. “It'd be wise of you to return to your dorms, Remus”

“This doesn't mean I'll let you off the hook, Miss Cullen”, he also stood up, raising his voice.

“Didn't expect you to, Mr. Lupin”, she grinned before stepping away from the light, darkness enveloping her figure, until all that was left was a deafening silence.

In the following week, James, Sirius and Peter had taken notice of Remus' new behaviour towards Miss Cullen.

They didn't address it. Everything was back to normal. During the day, they pretended to pay attention to classes, and planned their pranks. During the night, they put their plans into action.

The Marauders were back in business. And Hogwarts was just about to witness it.

Their biggest prank. The riskiest they had ever come up with.

The plan was laid out. Sneaking out at dead of night, meeting up just outside the kitchens. A tiny vial of veritaserum– courtesy of Slughorn’s personal collection– was all they needed.

Sirius insisted on being the one to do it. And so, he poured the entire vial in the pumpkin juice the house elves had prepared beforehand.

They were grinning like idiots.

“Now we wait until breakfast tomorrow”, said wickedly James.

“And we'll watch a truth–chaos unfold right in front of us, sitting comfortably”, finished Peter with the same look.

And that's exactly what they did. They surprisingly got down to the Great Hall for breakfast on time– it never happened. It should have been a tell–tale for everyone that a Marauder–signed prank was about to happen.

One by one, everyone took sips of the corrected pumpkin juice. It was like watching a bowling match; with one single throw, the bowling pins clattered with great noise.

Everyone was spouting out secrets, confessions and whatever they wouldn't have had the balls to say if not under the effects of the truth–serum. The Great Hall had never been so loud.

“I slept with your boyfriend, Mark–!”

“I stole your jumper the other day, and I accidentally made a big hole in it! It wasn't Mr. Fluff’s fault–!”

“I lied when I told you I liked the pie you baked. It was utterly disgusting–!”

And the Marauders? They were laughing their asses off, high–fiving and slapping each other’s backs like they’d accomplished a Herculean labour. And the most hilarious fact above all, was that even the professors were victims of this prank.

And naturally, they had to take advantage of the situation. They strutted across the enormous room, headed to their number one professor; Minnie.

She was glaring at them, but no real anger was in her gaze. “You four! It's always you four!”

“That's us”, grinned Sirius, leaning on the desk.

“Listen, Minnie. We had a vital question for you”, started James while grinning like a fox.

“Yeah, a matter of life or death”, spoke up Peter.

“We're your favourites, right Minnie?”, finished Remus, staring at her expectantly.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and scoffed, like it was obvious. “What kind of question is that? You four are the reason behind my wrinkles!”, she stated. “But I do have to admit you are not all that bad… Even if you cause most of the problems around here”

At that, they burst out celebrating, chanting some ode to McGonagall.

“Heard that, Wormie? We're not bad!”, laughed out Sirius.

“Not baaaad!”, sang off–key James, side hugging a crazed out Remus.

However, he could feel a pair of watchful eyes on him… And he knew where to look. There they were. Those damned gold eyes. That damned grin. Was she always this amused?

James noticed that had gone silent, and found him staring once again at her. “You sure you don't fancy the prof, Moony?”, he teased lightly, which only made the werewolf roll his eyes.

James shrugged. “Just asking– Hey, I got a splendid idea”, he grinned wider.

“What idea, Prongs?”, asked Remus.

“Why don't we ask her some questions? It'd be so wicked!”, he explained. He was practically buzzing with mischief. And before Remus had even the chance to categorically turn James down, Sirius had jumped in the conversation, slinging his arms around their shoulders.

“That is the best idea you've ever come up with, mate”, he smirked. “Why, thanks mate”

They dragged him in front of her, standing between the two idiots, grinning like they had just won an award. Her smirk hadn't fallen yet, perhaps it widened at their sudden appearance.

“Good morning, guys”, she greeted in a smooth tone, her chin resting on her hands. “Having a great start of the day, I hope?”

“It's always a great day when I get to look at your gorgeous self, love”, flirted unabashedly Sirius, earning an eye roll from Remus and a chuckle from her.

“I'm fluttered, Mr. Black”, she answered. “Please. You can call me Sirius”

All she could do was laugh, clearly having a blast watching Sirius charming his way into her pants. And it strangely caused a knot to form in Remus' stomach. ‘I’m not jealous. She's a vampire, for Merlin's hairy balls’, he thought.

However, it wasn't enough for it to go away. On the contrary, the knot only tightened when he saw how Sirius was checking her out. He was so frustrated he could break something.

“How about you, Remus? Have you concluded your essay on the Dark Arts? I should be most delighted to lend you mine aid in your researches, should you have need of it”

Her voice had snapped him back to reality, and it felt like an ice–cold bucket falling over his head. Was she really teasing him after last week? How could she find the situation amusing? He was forced to swallow the frustration and– in the deepest part of his consciousness, he knew it– the jealousy who were currently stuck in his throat.

“Yeah– yeah, I finished it. Thanks for asking, though. It was really… Kind of you”, he forced out, glaring daggers at her mirthful golden orbs.

“Fret you not, this is the least I may offer. Yet, should you desire another pair of eyes to peruse it, do inform me, yes?”, she answered back, her sweet smile almost mocking him.

“I will”, was the only thing he could get to say without telling her how much of a bitch she was right now.

Though, that tension didn't go unnoticed by his friends. Of course not. They had him cornered as soon as they set foot in their dorm.

“She's mad about you, Moony. I'm telling you”, declared James with the confidence of a guy who could tell when a lady was interested.

“Mate– not that I disagree. She totally fancies Moony– but you're not in the position to say that so confidently. I mean, Lily has been rejecting you since first year–”, interjected Peter, voicing out the thoughts in Remus' mind. However, he had been cut off by James’ hand raising, as if with that action alone he could express all his offense.

“–That’s where I have to stop you, Wormtail. Lily is clearly in love with me– head over heels even! She's just trying to deny it ‘cause she knows how much I enjoy our bickering”, explained the bespectacled boy.

“Yeah, sure”, mumbled Peter rolling his eyes.

“Point is, Moony, she's into you”, spoke up Sirius. “As much as drop–dead gorgeous she is, she's all yours”

Remus huffed exasperated, giving them all a deadpan look. “Guys, I don't *fancy* her. I couldn't possibly do it! For one, she's a *professor*. And *two*, she's a fucking vamp–!”, he announced annoyed before realising he had blurted out too much.

James, Peter, and Sirius fell silent. And Remus would have normally blessed every saint out there for a moment of quiet. However, this was not the time.

“S– She’s a what…?”, whispered Peter, suddenly frozen on his spot, voice wavering like he had just seen a ghost.

James was the first to put two and two together, connecting every warning and attempt he had made to convince them to steer clear from you. “That's why you had it out to her”

Remus rolled his eyes, yet once again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to realise it now”

Sirius took a step closer, holding his hands up in surrender. “None of that, yeah? How could we know? You made it seem like she kills blokes for fun!”

Remus stared at him, incredulous. “I literally told you she was dangerous! I didn't know why yet, but I warned you! And for all we know, she could be doing just that!”

“Please. She offered to help you on your essay, Moony. How can a girl so sweet be killing hundreds behind everyone’s back? She looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly!, argued back Sirius.

“She needs blood to survive! Of course she kills!”, he yelled in exasperation. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. “Actually… She promised she hasn't been murdering anyone…”

“Wait. You guys have talked?”, piped up James.

He sighed. “Long story”, was all he said.

“… Still, she's into you”, mumbled Sirius, followed by a chorus of “yeah” and “definitely”

Remus shook his head, a smile creeping up his scarred face, looking fondly at his friends. “… You guys are unbelievable”

“– Mate, honestly. Have I ever lied to you?”, asked Sirius lounging on the armchair by the fireplace.

Remus glanced up at him from his book with a ‘are you serious?’ look.

“Okay, let's not go there. But I'm serious, man! I'm black serious”, he defended himself with the most innocent face. His joke didn't go unnoticed by James, sitting on the carpet with Peter playing a game of wizard's chess, who broke in a fit of loud laughter. “I'm black serious–!”, he choked out, barely even breathing.

“Har har, so funny, Pads. Not like you haven't been using that joke since first year”, mumbled Remus sarcastic, gone back to his reading with a huff.

“It's a classic,” he grinned before schooling back his expression into one of solemnity. “Just go there, Moony. Trust me”

Remus sighed and closed his book in irritation. “So, let me get this straight. Tonight– the designed day to focus solely on my reading– I should go to the Astronomy Tower– where it'll be freezing– to do what, exactly? At least give me a reason to do it!”

“Can't tell you, mate! It's a surprise! I can't spoil your surprise, it's like the number one rule of surprises!”, answered Sirius, backed up by some murmurs of agreement from Peter and James.

“I say you give it a chance, Rem. What's the worst that could happen?”, piped up Peter, frowning and flipping off James as he won yet another match.

Remus groaned loudly, his hands covering his face in despair. “I hate you all, hope you know that”, he said, his voice muffled by the palm of his hands.

“I'm going, okay? Are you satisfied?”, he groaned again, reluctantly standing up from the plushness of the sofa. He gave Sirius a last glare as he wrapped his shawl snugly around his shoulders, heading to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Gosh, I love you so much, Moony!”, snickered Sirius as he called out after him. As soon as he had set foot outside, Sirius's grin morphed to a smirk, sharing a victorious look with James and Peter.

“Part one of our mission accomplished”

For the entire duration of the walk to the Astronomy Tower, Remus had been complaining under his breath, hugging tighter his worn but well–loved shawl.

‘Fuck everyone. Why did I even agree? This is so stupid, I'm going back to my bed’, he thought while going up the creaky wooden stairs of the tower, teeth shaking and nose red.

When he reached the top, he had almost completed his transmutation to a werewolf–flavoured ice lolly. An irritated one. The tower was completely desolate! No fireworks going off, no marauder jumping out yelling ‘we got you!’. No nothing!. He hoped his friend had already started running, ‘cause he was certainly going to kill him after the stunt he pulled.

He let his head fall back, groaning frustratedly. “Fuck!”, he yelled out. He walked to the railings and grasped the cool metal, shoulders sagging and head falling towards. “I'm freezing my balls off out here…”, he mumbled, little white puffs of air coming out of his lips for the cold weather.

“I'd advise you to cover up more, in that case”, spoke up a smooth voice behind him, amusement clear in the tone.

“I should have done that, huh?”, chuckled him humourlessly, turning his head to the side, locking eyes with her. ‘Huh, gold again?’, he asked himself as he noted the hue of irises.

“I catch you out of bed after curfews way too many times, Remus. I ought to give you a detention one of these days”, she chuckled calmly, staring at the starry night above them.

“Why haven't you already?”, he asked, a small smile growing on his face despite the earlier frustration.

She shrugged, humming a melody he didn't recognise. “I like you, Remus Lupin”

He chuckled out loud, unguarded– the first genuine laugh in her presence. “You like me?”, he asked amused.

She nodded, while a small fond grin of her own was making its way onto her face. “My, of course. Lord knows how much you’ve entertained me with your little silly research”

“It was not silly!”, he argued wholeheartedly.

She laughed, the sound melodious to his ears. ‘Merlin, she's beautiful’, he caught himself thinking as he watched her laughing, her face lighted up with joy. A stark contrast to the cocky bravado she had around him.

“You're the first human to have ever challenged me so openly. Never in my 138 years”, she shook her head, chest rumbling with laughter.

He widened his eyes at the mention of her age. ‘Damn she an ultra granny’. “You’ve been around that long?”

Her laughter died down, fingers tightening slightly their hold on the railing as a nostalgic look came over her eyes. “Born on the eighteenth of June, 1839”, she sighed, memories of her human life resurfacing.

“I was a respectable noble lady. I had everything. Wealth, health, luxury, good friends. Yet, I was such a curious girl, back then. Perhaps, it'd be more accurate for me to say naive”

Remus had straightened, gaze stuck on her as she got lost in memories. He wouldn't have dared to stop her. He didn't know why. He didn't even know how they were having a civil conversation after all that happened between them. He was a werewolf, she a vampire. Two sides of a coin, never meant to stand beside each other, enjoying each other’s company.

“… And what happened, then?”, he asked softly.

Her smile took a nostalgic note, sighing as she reminisced in memories and feelings she had long buried under centuries of new experiences. “Well… I met a boy”, she grinned lightly, shooting him a look of complicity. “… And this boy had me tripping over my own feet in just one night”

She straightened her back, hands grazing the railings, looking at him with a light grin adorning her lips. “As I said, I was very naïve”

Then, just like that, that hint of a smile vanished.

“He was a vampire”, she confessed while staring in his eyes, looking back at her with just as much solemnity.

“That… Crush marked my death”, she said somberly. “I've never been like that ever since. Naïve, I mean”

“Watching decades, centuries pass in front of you, Remus… It changes your entire view on what surrounds you. You can no longer allow yourself to easily place your trust in just anyone. It is now a matter of kill or be killed. Survival. Bloodlust. Murders. So yes, it is a curse. I am cursed to be a murderer, a monster. And for what? Because I fell in love with the wrong man? Life is unfair. The sooner you learn that, the better it is”

Her words left him breathless. The crudeness, the honesty. It all was a blow to his heart. His own insecurities floating in the crisp night air like snowflakes. Monster… He knew what it felt like to feel one. He was a slave to the moon. And in a way, she was too. And that meant that in a way, they were alike.

“… You're not as heartless as I thought”, he admitted, voice a whisper in the starry cold night.

“Thank you, I guess”, she chuckled, glancing at him with a genuine spark of amusement, making a breathy laugh escape him too.

“So… Cullen?”, he asked, curious. She hummed, “what about it?”

“Is it…”, he left off the question, almost sheepish to ask her another question about the past she seemed to want to keep ten feet under her high heels soles.

“It's a cover–up second name. I'm part of a coven, even though it feels more like a family. Carlisle helped us– me and my brothers– to keep our humanity intact. He's like the father we have long lost”

“Tell me about them”, he egged softly.

“Carlisle and Esme are my parents. They're really caring, and selfless. Then there's Edward, he's really angsty. Jasper and Alice, they're soulmates, they complete each other. Where he's closed off, she's sunshine and bright”, she chuckles, shaking her head softly.

“Emmett and Rose. They're iconic. Emmett is the funniest guy I've ever met in my whole life. You should see him. Actually– Mr. Black reminds me of him. And Rose, she's protective of us all. Doesn't have a filter”

Remus’ lips almost automatically tugged up at seeing her fond expression. And when he caught himself in the middle of it, he realised it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If someone had told him he'd be looking at her with stars brighter than the ones above their heads, he'd have burst out laughing.

Suddenly, he understood that he'd grown to enjoy her company, grown to love her.

He once was repelled by her honey gaze, cold shivers running down his spine when it was set on him. Now he was entranced.

He used to disdain her ever–present smirk, that reflected how she always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone. As of tonight, her grin only spurred him to do better, be better. It had become a playful challenge between them, both battling to have the upper hand. Despite that, his all–time favourite had to be her smile. Her unguarded, genuine, fond smile. The one she wore when she talked about her family, when talking casually.

And when they parted ways– as she insisted he slept to be up and about for the following day’s lessons– he accepted his fate; Miss Cullen had eased her way to his heart. Unequivocally.

While she chuckled incredulously upon hers. A seventeen year old werewolf student managed to make her do the one thing she'd promised to ever do again; love.

Fate was peculiar. However, as someone had said, ‘Omnia vincit amor: et nos cedamus amori’.

Like Alice and Jasper, Y/n had not been turned by Carlisle but, to Bella’s surprise, was the first to join his coven. Well before Edward came into the picture. When asked about this, following Edward’s explanation of Carlisle’s origin to her the night she visited his home for the first time, Edward plainly stated with a look she couldn’t decipher, “You’d have to ask her, it’s not my story to tell.”

But Bella never could bring herself to ask. Y/n’s exterior was as cold as Rosalie’s. Guarded and reserved. Quiet to the point she hardly added input during times the Cullen’s faced conflict. Always glued to a corner, hidden from the shadows. One glare was enough to send goosebumps along Bella’s arm. Understanding it’d be better to either not know Y/n’s story all together or silently hope one of the Cullen’s would tell her. Since it was obvious the vampire was going to keep her secrets to herself. 

Well….she was hoping to. 

“We can’t watch it here,” Edward’s voice was serious. More serious than ever, causing confusion to etch Bella’s face, taking the DVD case from Edward with a frown. It was a movie she’d seen a handful of times, a classic and one she thoroughly enjoyed whenever it played on TV. The only reason she was suggesting it now for their weekly movie night was for an assignment her history teacher gave on the historical event it was based on considering the upcoming anniversary was the following week.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have a DVD player.”

“I do,” he rolls his eyes, yet still carries the serious strain of his tone “but we can’t watch that here. We’ll go to your place.”

Her frown deepened, a little annoyed with the vampire changing their plans considering she drove all the way out to his. “I don’t understand, Edward….why is it so much of a big deal to watch Titanic here.” 

Lightening fast, Edward held a hand up, freezing the two in their places while Bella watched him turn his head to face the open doorway. Tilting it slightly as though to strain his hearing. When it appeared whatever coast was clear, he let out a breath of relief before facing her again, noting her visible confusion. “I’ll explain everything once we get to your house. I promise just…” he pleads with his eyes, gently taking the DVD once again to tap at the title Titanic with his finger, “don’t mention this when we’re here or in front of my family.”

The entire drive was quiet. Save for the soft remedy of the radio. The music gave Bella the distraction she needed to not say anything about what took place in Edward’s bedroom until they reached her house. All the while she replayed the moment in her head, followed by how eerie the Cullen house became right after the famous ship’s name spilled from her lips.

Titanic.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” She did not hesitate the second they entered, hanging her coat on the hanger and moving past him to set up the DVD player. She heard his sigh, igniting her annoyance, “you promised me an explanation.”

She felt his presence behind her, then a second later Edward kneeled to her level and took the DVD once more.

“You once asked me about Y/n,” he began, eyes lowered to the ground, “What her story was and how she was the first to join Carlisle” Gold met brown, his gaze shifting upward, while holding the disk cover up. “This isn’t just a movie, Bella. Not to her.” Heart pounding, Bella felt the air catch in her throat, realizing his implication. 

It’s her life.

“You’re saying…” She glanced at the cover. The iconic image of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet as Jack and Rose. The love story that ended in tragedy. Bella’s heart skipped at Edward’s nod.

“She lived it.” The air caught in Bella’s throat as the words left his mouth. “Y/n was on Titanic the night it sank--where she was turned by a vampire who wanted access to her family’s fortune.” 

“Family’s fortune?” Bella was processing multiple things at once. 

She was getting Y/n’s backstory she’d been curious about for over a year. 

The vampire was aboard the famous ship which sank nearly a century prior.

Y/n apparently came from a wealthy family. 

It was a lot to take in. 

Edward placed the disk in the compartment, pressing the button to turn on the tv. “Her family were first-class passengers.” He began to explain, “Her father was the co-owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers and her mother was the daughter of a wealthy banker who happened to be a popular socialite among their class. Y/n was privately educated, and set to study literature at NYU.”

“Wow,” Bella exhaled, taking in the information. The screen had projected the main menu but neither were focused on it. 

Discovering Y/n wanted to pursue literature was no surprise. From the massive book collection in the Cullen’s library which Edward said belonged to her, to the phenomenal school papers Bella had read in their English class during their peer review sessions, she knew Y/n was a gifted writer and storyteller. She made the simplest of words feel powerful. Brought scenes to life in the reader’s mind. 

Then there was the tiny detail that Edward made a comment months back saying Y/n had published several books under pseudonyms.

He won’t admit it, but Bella’s fairly certain Y/n wrote one of the books on their summer reading list. The suspicion formed when she caught him sending his sister a knowing look after the sheet was passed out. When she looked at Y/n, Bella noticed her amused smirk, followed by a chuckle as she winked at her brother. 

“I-I don’t--,” she had trouble putting the words together, flushing red. “I can’t imagine….”

Edward nodded, understanding what she was trying to say. “Talking about our past is hard for all of us. But for Y/n, it doesn’t help that every history class talks about it.” He lifts up the DVD cover, “or that Hollywood continues to make shows and movies.” 

Bella wanted to ask more questions but understood it wasn’t the time. She knew if she wanted more information, she was going to have to gather the courage to ask Y/n herself. A task easier said than done when the vampire had barely warmed up to the human since implanting herself in their lives. 

They settled on the couch and pressed play, but Bella’s attention was far from the film. Her mind drifted to Y/n. Thinking about her as each scene played out to the point Bella started to picture Y/n in Rose’s place. It brought chills to her arms, shuddering as she couldn’t help but wonder what it was like in those final moments as the ship sank. 

When the movie ended, Bella said goodbye to Edward and began her assignment. Again, she was distracted. Feeling off as she searched online for sources about Titanic and watched video clips of survivors. 

Eventually, after contemplating for over an hour, Bella picked up the phone off the receiver and dialed the number. It rang three times before the familiar voice with a slight transatlantic accent spoke through. 

“I’ve been waiting for your call.” 

Bella silently cursed, face and neck turning red as she cleared her throat before replying, “Can you come over? I’d like to talk to you.” 

20 minutes later, Bella and Y/n sat across from each other in her kitchen. Notebook in front of her, cup of juice on the table and pencil in hand while Y/n’s were folded in her lap. To Bella’s surprise, the vampire knew exactly why she had called her, for Alice had seen it that morning and warned Y/n. 

‘So much for easing my way into this,’ Bella thought to herself. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” She nervously said, fiddling with the pencil in her hand. Y/n gave her a soft smile in hopes of easing the poor girl.

“Bella, if I didn’t want to do this I would have said so over the phone.” 

“I know but…” she cringes slightly, more embarrassed with herself than anything. “This is your history. And I feel like I invaded your privacy by making Edward tell me why we couldn’t watch the film at your house.”

“You didn’t make him tell you anything,” Y/n’s words shocked her, Bella tilting her head in confusion. “Edward made a promise, and you were ensuring he lived up to it. I can understand given the way he behaved and made you clueless as to what the issue was. Granted,” Y/n paused, shuffling in her seat, “I would have rather you simply came to me, but I realize my part in why you refrained all these months since you got together.” 

‘Avoiding you like the plague,’ as one would say.

Y/n put her folded hands on the table, nodding to the notebook. “How would you like to start?” 

Bella straightened in her chair, bringing the notebook closer as she opened it to remove the paper listing the assignment. She skimmed over it, brows pinched, “Um, it says I have the option to write an essay on media--documentaries, movies, tv specials--about the event. Research and write a biographical report on a famous passenger. Or….” her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, peering at Y/n over the paper. “Interview a survivor.” 

Y/n hummed, elbows propped on the table to rest her chin on her folded hands. “And which option are you leaning toward?” 

A frown made its way on Bella’s face, shrugging lightly as she placed the sheet back down. “Honestly I’m not sure. I’ve watched the movie and a couple documentaries. Read a memoir from a survivor and searched about a few passengers on the internet.”

“Well my advice,” Y/n mused, shifting her arms down so they were crossed but still leaning on the table. “Options one and two are your best bet. Unfortunately the last remaining survivor, besides myself,” she paused briefly with a strained smile, “lives all the way in England. She’s I believe 94, and was only two months old when she was aboard. Frankly I do not understand why our teacher would have that option on the assignment.” Leaning back in her chair she let out a sigh before giving the girl a knowing look. “But Bella, you and I both know you don’t really need my help on this assignment.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, making Bella’s pale face turn red as a tomato. Of course Y/n wasn’t going to buy her excuse of helping with homework. And there was no point in denying it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really know how to approach the subject.” 

“You could’ve just asked,” Y/n teased, but waved a hand dismissively and huffed. “Again. I’m to blame for why you didn’t.” Straightening her already perfect posture, Y/n tugged at the sleeve of her turtleneck and got serious. Taking a moment before speaking as though she were preparing herself. “You want to know my story and I’ll tell you, but you have to understand that it is not like how you see in the movies. My experience,” a faint look reached her eyes. “Was very different.”

Bella swallowed thickly, closing her notebook and pushing it away. Giving Y/n her full attention. “I understand.”

“What all did Edward tell you?”

“That you were on the Titanic when it sank. Your family came from wealth, and you were targeted by a vampire who snuck on who wanted access to that.” Bella saw the way Y/n’s breath hitched, stiffening but quickly recovered herself. Making the girl mentally curse herself for possibly overstepping. 

“Okay. That at least gives me some insight on where to begin.” Clearing her throat, Y/n reached into her satchel and removed a silver metal tin. It was in great condition despite evidently being from the 1910s. “Do you mind?” 

The question confused Bella, who didn’t know how to respond until her gaze landed on the now open tin, revealing five pristine cigarettes on either side. “Oh,” her eyes widened in surprise. Not sure how to respond since this was new information to her. Instantly questions popped in her mind. ‘Can vampires even smoke?’ ‘Does anyone else in the Cullens smoke?’ ‘How does that work?’ 

Bella shrugged, “my dad smokes cigars in the living room at times. And my step-dad is a smoker so I don’t mind, help yourself. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Y/n plucked one from the tin, placing it between her lips before looking in her bag again to fish for her lighter. “You know, it pleases me that there are still some cigarettes from my time available. These are Camels,” she gestured at them with one hand while the other pulled out the lighter. It matched the tin. Silver, vintage, and in pristine condition. “I preferred Fatima’s back then, but these will have to do. I hate Malboro’s,” her thumb flicked the lighter open, the flame igniting. 

“Never tried them,” Bella commented with a small smile. Frankly she was quite stunned with how Y/n was speaking to her as though they had been friends for decades. Just telling her the favorite cigarettes she used to smoke gave a little insight into her past. 

Bella pictured the young woman on the terrace of a New York cafe, cigarette in hand with a martini in the other while gossiping to her friends of the latest scandals within their socialite circle. Pearls around her neck, diamonds on her ears. Standing in the powder room with said friends to reapply her rough lipstick and adjust whatever pillbox hat she chose to wear that day. 

Thinking of what Y/n’s life might have been before becoming a vampire saddened Bella. The possibilities, the opportunities. Would she have married and have children? Would she have gone on to do great things? 

“It doesn’t do anything to me, obviously.” Y/n explained, bringing the flame to the filter. The glow of it made her golden eyes brighten in color. Once lit, she flicked the lighter off and tossed it and the tin back into her satchel. Bella stared at Y/n with fascination as she inhaled deeply before tilting her head back to blow out a thick cloud of smoke. “But it makes me feel….human. I used to do it so much that having one in my hand became second nature. It was common for the times. Plus the taste of it reminds me of bitter coffee,” That distant look in her eyes returned, but was then replaced by annoyance, “Carlisle hates it--as does Esme but they tolerate it so long I do it on the terrace. Emmett and Rosalie will indulge me by partaking to get under their skin,” a light chuckle leaves her lips, taking another drag. “The others say nothing. As I said, it doesn’t affect us.”

Bella laughed under breath, “Honestly I can’t see Edward smoking.” Picturing it felt foreign, and Bella wondered if he had before turning. 

Y/n laughed with her. “I’ve tried tempting him, but he never breaks. Still tries to use the excuse that it is a bad habit.” Y/n scoffs, “believe me, I know. He just hates the smell of it--enhanced senses to blame for that.” Blowing smoke out, Y/n finished with, “Alright, enough of my bad habit.”

Y/n began to take Bella back to April 10th, 1912. To the day she and her family boarded Titanic to set sail to New York from Southampton, England. “Before they were the Los Angeles Dodgers, they were the Brooklyn Dodgers. And before that, they were the Brooklyn Superbas. My father co-founded and owned the team in 1883 as the Brooklyn Grays prior to all the name changes and eventual move. His father,” she took out a small antique ashtray from the satchel, tapping off the ash from the filter. “had accumulated wealth after hitting big during the Gold Rush. My father then used his part of the inheritance to go into business with Charles Byrne, Joseph Doyle, and Ferdinand Abell.”

Now it made sense for Bella why whenever the Cullen’s played baseball Y/n sported Dodger merchandise and would find her watching the team play on T.V during the season. She also was a fan of the Brooklyn Mets, but not as enthusiastic as she was with the Dodgers. Not to mention the intense rivalry with Edward for his love of the Chicago Cubs. 

“Now you know how my family’s fortune came to be,” Y/n waved the smoke she released away, “and as you can imagine, he was friends with some very rich, influential people in New York. The whole reason we were in England to begin with was to attend the wedding of one of those people. As for Titanic,” she swallowed the imaginary bile in her throat. “He wanted to have the ability to tell everyone that he and his family were amongst the ship's first passengers. To brag or whatever--I don’t really know. But it happened that the wedding took place around the time she was set to set sail to New York. Extending our trip to last three weeks instead of the two we planned. All because he managed to snag the tickets by talking to the right people at the right time…..”

“I do not understand why we couldn’t have left on the Lusitania last week,” Y/n complained as the car neared the boarding docks. Trying to peer out the window but was annoyed by the crowd of people taking up every inch of the pavements, making their journey last longer than planned. “We’ve taken the liner twice now--surely it would have been up to satisfaction. We’ve had no trouble traveling on it--why go through the hassle of staying a whole week longer just to be on this ship, father?”

Not looking up from the newspaper in his hands, Y/n’s father sighed and shook his head. Irritated by her complaining as she had yet to stop since he told her the news. “Because, daughter, this is no ordinary ship. The White Star Line has spent years crafting the perfect vessel for the sea and we are in an extraordinary position to be able to be amongst the first passengers aboard. How could you not be excited by that?”

Y/n secured her coat tighter around her shoulders, frowning while keeping her gaze on the scene outside. “Forgive me for not being comfortable at boarding a ship that is set to make its first voyage across the Atlantic.” 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Y/n. There is no need to be dramatic and consume yourself with worry. The White Star Line has assured Titanic passed every safety precaution and is unsinkable.” 

That did nothing to lift her unease, “Is that not what they said about the Tayleur? It sank three days into its maiden voyage?!” Her father grumbled, closing his paper to fold and place in his lap. 

“That was over fifty years ago. Times have changed. Technology has changed.” His hand waved dismissively, “That ship was doomed from the start despite what the papers make of it. Look, it would be foolish of them to not have learned from their mistakes. I’m telling you there is nothing to worry about.”

“But that feeling never left me,” Y/n put out the cigarette, blowing out the last bit of smoke. “Even after meeting the crew and the captain, there was an odd heaviness in my stomach. Telling me that something would happen. No matter what I did to distract myself--whether that be playing cards or chatting with other young girls my age aboard, thinking about my fiancé back in New York….it never left my mind.” 

Bella let out a gasp, eyes widening at the revelation, “Fiancé?” At the vampire’s nod, Bella felt her heartbreak. 

“Alexander Mason,” there was an airiness when Y/n exhaled, reminiscing at the memory of her lost love. “His father was a real estate mogul and big fan of the Dodgers. Our fathers met at a banquet, not long after they were invited to watch a game from our private viewing box and introduced us. Alex was a doll,” Another cigarette was lit, the woman shifting in her chair. “Handsome, intelligent. Beautiful eyes you could get lost in. Had a sharp tongue but a quick wit. I honestly wanted nothing to do with him,” Y/n chuckled at Bella’s gaped expression. “He talked my ear off that night.”

“And that was a bad thing?” Bella giggled.

“No,” Y/n defended, her own smile threatening to peek through. “It’s not a bad thing. It was just….odd. Took me off guard--especially because the conversation was centered around me. Which--,” her finger not holding the cigarette lifted up for emphasis, “most men in the 1900s of that class were not interested in the hobbies and interests of women. They desired a wife who would be a shiny doll to hang off their arm and keep the house in order.” The cigarette went between her lips. 

“I was not like that. I had dreams. Aspirations. I wanted to go to school, become a writer, and maybe see a little of the world before settling down.” The small, albeit sad, smile appeared. “He supported me--encouraged it actually. Then after several dates I was smitten. Alex was the first man to whisk me off my feet and make me believe there were truly good people out there. He was so sweet. So kind. Loving.” If her heart could beat, Y/n was sure it would have died on its own from being broken. “I knew I’d never find another like him. Which is why I said yes to marrying him after four months of courting. Under the condition we’d wait until I completed university--we were seventeen after all and the idea of marrying that young, despite it being common, unnerved me.”

“And he was okay with that?”

“He was. He agreed that it was too soon to get married, but he told me he’d rather refer to me as his fiancée than telling people we were going steady.” It was then Y/n peered down at her left hand. Bella followed her gaze, landing on the dainty diamond ring on the finger reserved for when one commits their life and love for another person until death do them part. Realizing what the ring was, and seeing how she never saw Y/n without it, Bella felt her eyes water. 

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

“It’s beautiful,” it truly was. Timeless and the type of ring that belonged on display in an antique museum. It suited Y/n.  

“Thank you,” she beamed, lifting her hand up to inspect it. “His words when he proposed was he saw the ring and it reminded him of the way my eyes sparkled when I laughed.” Y/n tightened her lips, emotion flooding her. “Little did he know the only time I genuinely laughed was with him. He was the reason for that sparkle.” 

A pregnant pause fell over the two. Y/n shuddering as she blinked away the tears that would never fall. God if there was one thing from her human days she wished she still had, it was the ability to cry. 

“What happened to him? If you don’t mind me asking,” Bella’s tone was gentle, hand nudging slightly forward as if to offer Y/n comfort. 

“He lived a long life,” Y/n resumed smoking, though the sadness never left her tone and her gaze remained on her ring. “I watched over him for many years--even after joining Carlisle. He can attest to the weekends I’d go missing and return with a tortured presence.” The heaviness in her chest heightened, she quickly reverted the story back to Titanic knowing at some point Bella would ask more about her relationship. 

“Anyways, we boarded Titanic the morning of April tenth and I kept to myself most of the time. If I wasn’t in my suite, I read in the lounge or sat on the deck drinking tea. Played cards with wives and daughters in first class. Chatted with the crew whenever I had questions.” Y/n inhaled sharply, eyes turning narrow. “It wasn’t just the ship I was worried about--Twas the main reason for my anxiety, yes, but there was a sense that I was being watched. You know the feeling?”

Bella nodded, heat rising to her pale cheeks as she thought back to the first weeks she lived in Forks and first met Edward. Even when she could not physically see him, the feeling she was being watched hovered over her. Then of course the incident with James, and now with Victoria still out there, Bella kept looking over her shoulder believing she’d catch a glimpse of red hair. “I know it quite well.” 

“Then you know it brings the hairs on the back of your neck up,” Y/n snarls, clutching her fists together. “And it is frustrating because you feel as though you are going crazy scanning your surroundings every second hoping to find the one responsible.” Unclenching she shook her head and took a deep drag of the cigarette. Letting the nicotine, a placebo to her, linger in her system before releasing. “The entire time on that ship I knew I was being watched. On the deck--in the lounge--in the ballroom, God, on my way to the powder room, I felt like a deer being hunted. My father dismissed my concerns, naturally, because I had no evidence of this faceless individual stalking me aboard. My mother, God rest her soul, at least listened and advised me to not wander on my own after nightfall.” 

“I’m assuming this faceless individual is the vampire who…” Bella trailed off nervously, her suspicions confirmed by the firm nod she received. “Who was he?” This time she got a scoff.

“To this day I’m unsure if the name he gave me was in fact his real one. Hours prior to the sinking he introduced himself to me--Called himself Arthur Deveroux. Said he was an investment broker out of London.” The sneer returned on her visage. “And that he was on his way to New York to do business with Rockerfeller. I’d never heard of him, and to this day the name Arthur Deveroux is not on the list of first class passengers aboard Titanic. He was a stowaway,” Y/n explained with a grimace. “Snuck on minutes before the ship departed Southampton and imposed as a member of London’s elite. In reality, Arthur--or whatever his true name was--was a man who’s greatest power was the ability to deceive.”

A chill ran down Bella’s spine. Enough to make her shift in her seat. It wasn’t hard to picture the kind of man Arthur was based on the fury laced in the vampire’s tone. And as Y/n relayed the story of the night she met her creator, Bella felt as though she were there with her. 

“What did you say your name was again?” Y/n’s brows pinched, observing the man with skepticism as she removed her hand from his after he’d taken it to kiss her knuckles. Just before he approached her at the table where she had been retrieving a plate of custard for her mother, that inkling of being watched had pooled in her stomach. Sending off alarm bells when she turned to find a beautiful man appearing not much older than her with the most unusual eye color. 

Red. Deep like the rouge lipstick she wore. The sight of them made her take a cautious step back. 

“Arthur Deveroux, madam.” Never had she heard a voice like him. Smooth and echoey. Unique and the type one would hear singing on the radio. Or beckoning prey out to sea. 

“Arthur,” Y/n repeated, scanning his physique which was donned in a crisp suit. Matching the men around them present for dinner. “You’re from England I assume? What brings you to New York?”

“Business. My company hopes to collaborate with Mr. Rockerfeller.”

“Fascinating,” she wasn’t really. Many men attempted to get their hooks into the millionaire and turned up short. Y/n thanked the waiter handing her a martini, taking a sip while eyeing Arthur, who declined the waiter’s offer of making him a drink. “How come I have not seen you before tonight, Mr. Deveroux? Are you not one to mingle?”

His chuckle sounded like wind chimes. “I’m afraid not. I tend to stick to the walls during these gatherings and observe. The people here are far too ostentatious for my liking.” If he’d been anyone else Y/n would laugh. Agreeing with the statement. But something about Arthur screamed that he was hiding something.

“Well, do enjoy yourself these last days Mr. Deveroux.” She began to excuse herself, sneaking a glance to her table to find her parents watching the scene. “I hope New York is up to your standards.” 

The smirk that appeared sent goosebumps along Y/n’s arm. And not the good kind she’d get when Alex looked at her. Everything about the expression was eerie. As though Arthur was calculating an idea--and Y/n was at the center of it.

“I believe you might be right, Y/n. I think New York is going to be everything I envisioned.” Taking her hand once more, Arthur’s smirk never left as he felt her shudder at the touch. Cold lips pressing to her knuckles. “Perhaps we’ll see each other there.” Before she had the chance to reply, Arthur backed away slowly then turned on his heel. Striding toward the exit amongst a sea of guests, and Y/n let out the sigh of relief she’d been holding. 

When he disappeared from her view, Y/n realized she’d never given him her name.

As it came time to recall the final minutes of her humanity, Y/n was on her fourth cigarette and the golden color of her eyes had dimmed. Bella’s heart skipped and she swore to herself knowing Y/n heard it. The last thing she wanted was to dishearten the young woman further. 

“I’d got separated from my parents during the initial chaos,” her voice was barely over a murmur. Gaze fixated on the surface of the table. “Titanic had just struck the iceberg and the impact woke me up. My parents went to the deck for information and I was trying to find them when I was suddenly pulled into a storage closet by a force so strong I remember it knocking me off my feet. Dragging me into the darkness. I couldn’t see and the grip on me prevented me from moving--I let out a scream but then a hand covered my mouth causing me to freeze. That’s when I heard his voice.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Y/n.” his icy mouth caressed the side of her ear. Y/n whimpered against the rock solid hand holding her still. “I’d hoped to continue our conversation in New York, but it appears this ship will not be arriving. Now I have to improvise, but rest assured….this will only hurt for a little while.” And before Y/n could react, a pinch on her neck turned to a searing, excruciating pain that exploded in every cell in her body as Arthur sank his teeth into her skin. 

Ensuring Y/n L/n was listed among those lost at sea when Titanic greeted the bottom of the Atlantic on the early morning of April 15th, 1912. Her name missing from the list of survivors recovered on the RMS Carpathia. To the world, the beautiful young socialite died along with the thousands Titanic took with her. Never knowing she was reborn into a creature of the night, destined to walk the Earth for eternity as a living reminder of the ship of dreams that was believed to never meet her end. 

“By the time I awoke Titanic was all but a memory. A blur. He kept me in that closet for most of the transformation as the ship took on water. Slowly descending further and further into the icy waters of the Atlantic,” Y/n finished the last of her cigarette, putting the nub out and curling her hands into her elbows. “I heard everything. The screams. The cries. Women and children saying goodbye to their fathers. The violins from the band who refused to stop playing.” The melody filled her ears, bringing Y/n back in time. “I focused on the music. Ironically enough, it brought comfort despite the chaos unfolding and served as a distraction for the torment I was going through. Mentally and physically.”

Bella wiped away a tear with a sniff but she remained quiet.

“When the upper deck flooded, that's when Arthur moved us. Edward might have told you before that when a vampire bites a human, the amount of time it takes for the venom to course through all depends on where they bite them.” Bella nodded slowly, remembering the conversation from when she first went to the Cullen’s home and he told her that Carlisle suffered for days during the transformation because he was bitten on the hand. For Y/n, Arthur bit her neck. Closer to the heart and therefore it would only take hours. 

“I was nearing the end--and he knew that, but it was minutes before the ship would submerge and he did not want us to get stuck. He gathered me up, hauled me over his shoulder and made our escape. To everyone on board scrambling to stay afloat it looked like a man carrying his lover to safety. What they didn’t see, however,” Y/n paused briefly to gather her emotions. “Was Arthur throwing us off the railing on the opposite side and swimming away. For miles and miles in absolute darkness. Until we finally reached the shore.”

Bella pictured a newly turned Y/n dragged from the waters onto the sands of New York. Returning home as planned, but without a beating heart and newfound thirst for blood. Scared. Confused. One minute she’s aboard a sinking ship, the next she’s on land. Life stolen by a man with sinister intentions. Depriving her of the future with Alex she dreamed of. 

“What happened next?” Bella carefully asked. 

Y/n’s expression remained dejected, offering a light shrug. “Arthur kept me hidden for days. Forcing me to feed on innocent humans. The RMS Carpathia would be arriving in New York and he needed to confirm if my parents had survived so he could blackmail me into stealing my inheritance.” Pushing away from the table, Y/n gathered the ashtray and discarded the remains into the trash. Running it under the faucet before wiping it dry with a paper towel.

“What the bastard didn’t anticipate,” she said with a tone Bella couldn’t decipher, but it sent a wave of unease through her. “Was the level of rage I experienced when I finally got a hold of my mind. It’s easy for creators to manipulate newborn vampires, but they have to be precise and hope that the person does not remember what preceded the bite. Unfortunately for Arthur, I remembered everything.” Y/n returned to the table, tossing the ashtray in her satchel and Bella saw the darkened expression that had encased her. “And once I realized what he’d done to me…let’s just say Arthur should’ve thought twice about taking on a newborn vampire for the first time.”

Bella didn’t have to hear the words to know what Y/n was implying. Gulping as she muttered, “You destroyed him. Like Edward did to James.”

Their eyes locked, and Bella felt her breath hitch by the blankness in Y/n’s. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” there was no hesitation. How could Bella blame her for wanting revenge on the man who stole her life. Y/n deserved her revenge and from the sound of it, Arthur had never turned anyone prior to her. Leaving him unqualified for the intensity a newborn experiences adjusting to their new life. 

Y/n would’ve been stronger. Faster. Combine that with rage and the taste for vengeance and Arthur was no match for her. 

“Carlisle found me three months later--in July of 1912,” Y/n wrapped up the story, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve before moving to play with her ring. “I knew immediately he was like me, but his eyes were different and I wanted--needed--to know what my future was like. Considering I didn’t really give Arthur the chance to explain,” A sheepish look came over her. “Carlisle had this aura, and I knew I could trust him.” A soft chuckle escapes her, “It’s funny, you know, my intuition never failed me when I was human. It was so strong even then and becoming this only enhanced it. Just look at how the entire time on Titanic I could not shake the feeling it wouldn’t reach America. Then Arthur….Carlisle believes it to be my gift and If I’m being honest I didn’t believe it myself until decades later.” 

Bella instantly became curious, “What made you think otherwise?”

Y/n tensed, and the crushing expression replaced the somber one. Folded hands going in her lap, but her thumb still stroked the ring. “Remember how I said I used to watch over Alex?” Bella nodded slowly, chest tightening at the implication, followed by confirmation. “Well I always felt,” her left hand went to the part of her chest where her heart lay. Unmoving. “In here, beckoning me to be near him. That I needed to see him--even if it was for a split second. And so, for seventy years--,” Bella’s mouth parted with glistening eyes. Y/n mirrored her, but unlike Bella the tears wouldn’t fall. “I would go to him. Observing from afar of course I could never…get close.” Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, placing her hand back in her lap. “There were times he saw me.”

A gasp left Bella before she could stop it. “He did?”

“Yes,” Y/n murmur was more of a whimper, and Bella let the first tear fall. “I knew it was wrong, but I’d let our gaze lock. Then the second he blinked or turned I bolted. I know,” she huffed, “It was selfish of me. I hated myself because I was quite literally a ghost haunting him. But God I just needed to see his eyes--they were always my favorite thing about him.” 

Y/n cleared her throat loudly, rubbing her arms as she gathered herself. She knew telling Bella about Alex her years watching over him would come to this moment, but nothing could prepare her for the pain surfacing within her. 

“The uh--the last time I saw Alex was on his deathbed,” her eyes were closed but she heard Bella’s reaction. From the stutter of her heart to the sharp inhale. “In the days leading up everything felt off. I knew he was sick--he’d been for awhile, but I hoped he’d pull through like the other scares. This was different.” Her hand went back to her chest. “My intuition never failed me,” she let out a watery laugh, “and this time…it was warning the inevitable. Then Alice gave a look I’ll never forget, and I knew I needed to get to him as fast as I could.”

Bella couldn’t even imagine, just envisioning it made her heart sink into her stomach and throat dry up. Before she could ask the million dollar question, Y/n answered for her. “I got to say goodbye. It’s what Alex deserved. After everything I put him through he deserved to have closure.”

“Why did you never…?”

“Turn him?”

“Yeah,” Bella frowned, immediately regretting the question upon Y/n’s look of torment. 

“Same reason why Edward has yet to turn you,” it was harsh and Y/n knew it. But Bella needed a wake up call, if she could be the one to deliver then so be it. Yet at the same time, Y/n finds it aggravating that Edward would put this much effort into a relationship with Bella to not turn her. With Alex, Y/n never pursued him and kept her distance for a reason. Yes, she tortured herself by constantly checking on him, but at least she committed to it. 

A flash of hurt was evident on Bella, but she recovered as Y/n continued, “Alex lived a long life. Maybe not always happy, but he went on to do great things. He became an engineer, and dedicated his career to advancing ships for cross-Atlantic travel. Because he never wanted another disaster like Titanic to happen again,” a small smile curled up on her lips, a proud look in her eyes. “Eventually he married a nice woman, had a daughter, and three grandkids. Turning him would’ve taken that all away.”

Despite feeling broken-hearted for Y/n, Bella understood her reasoning, even though she herself desires becoming a vampire to be with Edward. Unlike Y/n, who sacrificed her chance at having her love with her to give him the ability to live a full life. 

“Did you,” she bit her lip, leaning her elbows on the table after wiping a stray tear. “Did you at least get to talk to him? Before he died?”

Y/n was silent. Gaze drawn down to her lap where it focused on the diamond ring. And while her undead heart broke for the man she’d never see tending to his garden or placing fresh flowers on her ‘grave,’ ever again, Y/n smiled at knowing he was in a better place. 

“I did.”

“I-I knew--I always knew,” the old man croaked in anguish as tears welled in his beautiful eyes that still held the color and sparkle they did when he was a seventeen-year-old boy. Now covered with wrinkles to match his withered skin and silver hair. He laid in a hospital attached to different machines, heart monitor picking up in pace at the rapid beat due to the emotions consuming him. But no matter his appearance, he was still the sweet, darling, Alexander Mason Y/n fell in love with all those years ago. “I-I saw you--after Carpathia docked I scoured the area for you.”

“I know you did,” Y/n whispered with agony. Grabbing his hands gently, making him gasp by how cold they were but he clutched them like a lifeline. Holding them to his chest because he feared that if he let go she’d disappear. 

“They told me you were lost at sea,” the first tear fell, and Y/n felt a sob in the back of her throat. “They said you sank to the bottom and would never be recovered. They--they told me I was making it up--but I knew you were out there. I saw you.” He shook his head as more tears cascaded down his cheeks like a never ending waterfall. “I saw you at my graduation. At the cemetery when my mother died. At the docks when I left for France--when I was in France.” Y/n shuddered at the memory surfacing. 

America had entered World War I and despite Alex coming from wealth where he easily could’ve dodged the draft, he enlisted and spent the year in Europe fighting. And the entire time Alex carried a photograph of Y/n in his pocket close to his heart. Removing it when he was about to go on the frontlines to take one last look at her face and press a kiss to the image. Men in his battalion often asked about the lady Alex held in his pocket, and each time they were met with shock and regret when he revealed she was on Titanic when it sank. 

That was the longest time Y/n had been away from Carlisle. He advised her not to go as she did not know any of his friends that lived in Europe, but Y/n refused to be an ocean apart from Alex. Especially when there was the high chance he may never return home. No, she needed to be close to him. To ensure he was safe. Eventually when the war ended, and Alex was back in New York, Y/n tracked down Carlisle in Chicago. Discovering that during her departure he turned a 17-year-old boy dying of Spanish Influenza. 

“I was there,” she breathed, confirming his statements as she stroked his hand and wrist. Aged skin contrasting with hers frozen in time. It pained her to see him like this. Pained her to have gone decades as a shadow in his life. Observing from afar while never drawing close. 

“You were there,” He repeated with awe, the memories of each occurrence flooding his mind. She wasn’t a figment of his imagination, conjured by his grief. She was real. “At the docks.” Y/n nodded. “At the hotel opening.” Another nod, this time slower. “At my wedding.”

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. Her head dropped between her shoulders, leaning forward to press her forehead against their conjoined hands. The tearless sob released, echoing along the walls and hitting her straight in the chest. Her undead heart breaking into pieces. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I am so so sorry. Please forgive me--I couldn’t come to you no--no matter how much my soul begged for me to put an end to the suffering.” 

“What happened out there, my darling?” He brought her attention back to him. Not wanting to go another second without looking at her face. The beautiful face he fell in love with as a boy. The face that haunted his dreams. That he swore he saw on a crowded street and when he looked out his window on every birthday and anniversary that passed. The face he thought of when fighting for is life in France--praying he’ll see when he was called to the heavens. 

Now that face was in front of him after decades of mourning. When people called him crazy for always believing Y/n to be alive and forced to hide away. “You’re still as beautiful as the day I lost you.” One hand let go of hers to caress her cheek, wrinkled thumb stroking the area below her eyes. “Except your eyes have changed. They’re not the color they were when you left New York.” His hand rested on top of hers, still perched on his chest right by his heart. “But nonetheless, still beautiful.” 

Y/n swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words to say but none of them seemed appropriate. “You remember all those stories of creatures in the night we used to read about that our parents said were incongruous?” His nod was slow, but attentive. 

“Like Dracula?”

“Yes,” Y/n choked out a laugh, “Like Dracula. Turns out all those stories are not fairy tales.” His sharp intake filled her ears.

“Are you saying…?” This time Y/n was the one to nod. “Good Heavens. You--you are a--.” She shook her head roughly, not wanting to hear him say the word. 

“I’m not the same I was when I left for England all those years ago. There are things--dark things, that exist in the world, and unfortunately I’m one of those.”

Alex rescinded her words, “No. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true, darling.”

“You might have different eyes, but you’ll always be my Y/n. You’ve been my guardian angel all these years. Any--anytime I felt lost, you were there. Anytime I-I felt like I was forgetting your face, there it was in the distance.” 

Y/n let out a pained sound, but it was so soft Alex couldn’t hear it. His words struck her. Like lightning hitting a tree. How could he still have devotion to her after all the suffering she put him through. 

“You still wear it?” He brought her attention to their hands, where his frail finger traced the ring. “After all this time?”

Y/n stared at him with absolute love, “I’ve never once taken it off.” Bringing his hand to hers, she kissed his weathered skin. “And I never will.” For a moment they just sat there. Staring at each other while the beep of the monitor filled the room. Getting slower and slower to the point Y/n felt herself starting to crumble. “I’m breaking all the rules coming here,” she eventually said, wanting to hear his voice until the inevitable arrived. 

“Rules?”

“Things in this life are not so different from yours. There are rules to follow and the reason why I had to stay away from you. It would’ve put you in danger--and I couldn’t let that happen.” Alice assured Y/n her visit with Alex would remain hidden from the Volturi, but part of her still worried. Thankfully her intuition wasn’t screaming at her, otherwise the situation would be different. 

“Will you get in trouble if you’re caught?”

“Yes. But I don’t want you worrying about that. Alright?”

“Does anyone know you’re here?” The fact Alex was concerned made her smile. 

“The man who took me in does--and the family he and I found along the way.” One of her hands came up to brush away a silver hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “He found me shortly after I…became this. He knows I would've moved mountains and fought my way through anyone who got in my way to prevent me from being here with you.”

Alex sighed, eyes fluttering shut as they fought against the sleep his body desperately craved. Y/n saw it too, and the look of anguish overcoming her made Alex understand why she waited until now to make an appearance. 

“This is it, isn’t it.” Not a question, a statement. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, scooting closer so she was sitting beside his torso rather than his legs. Leaning into his space as he kept her palms pressed to his slowing heart.

His smile was gentle, “I guess I should find some solace. Dying with the last thing I’ll see being the love of my life I lost a lifetime ago.” Another groan left her. “I always regretted not coming with you to England. That damn Yale interview.”

“I’m grateful you didn’t,” she defended, tone serious as though appalled by his confession. “Had you who’s to say we would’ve made it on a lifeboat. And if they refused to let you on, I would’ve leaped off.” The chances of him surviving would’ve been slim. The lifeboats took women and children first and therefore the majority of those who died aboard Titanic were men. Including Y/n’s father. “You would’ve never done the amazing things you accomplished, Alex. You would’ve never got your Nobel Prize--or had your family.” 

A sigh left him, knowing she was right, and another wave of tears fell as he whispered, “I would’ve joined you.” He would’ve become a vampire for her. Traded in his future of living to remain unmoving in time with her. 

It devastated her. “I know you would have,” her bottom lip trembled, “But Alex, you deserved to live. You deserved to do all those great things. You’ve embedded your name in history--thanks to you, there hasn’t been a commercial passenger ship to sink in seventy years.”

Alex let out a snuffle, “I didn’t want--I didn’t want anyone to experience the pain I did. Losing you that way…I never recovered, Y/n.” 

Now that destroyed her. Worse than she ever imagined. Y/n audibly reacted as the pain tightened and exploded in her chest. “Oh, Alex.”

“You’ll stay, right?” The monitor decreased in pace. Alex used what little strength his heart had left to stay alive to treasure the last moments the universe afforded him with Y/n. His time was coming, and he was ready, but he needed to see her face, hear her voice, and feel her touch, one last time. “You’ll be right here.”

Y/n leaned forward, holding her weight up but still keeping her body close to his. “I am not going anywhere,” She vowed, lacing their fingers together, pressing them into his chest so she could feel the light thump of his heart. “I’ll be right here every second.”

And Y/n did. She sat there, holding his hands until they went limp. The beeping decreased. Alex’s breathing turned into soft pants, eyes fluttering as the darkness beckoned him. The last thing he felt was cold lips pressed to his forehead, and the melody of her voice in her ears sending him off to the Heavens, “I love you, Alexander Mason, I will love you until the end of time. And when the day comes, I’ll meet you at the docks.” 

April 14th, 2012 

The Cullens stood together in silence as the cool wind breeze passed them and clouds drizzled light rain above. The smell of salt from the sea filled their senses, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, causing the boats docked to lightly sway. 

Bella, now possessing golden eyes and skin so pale and cold, leaned into Edward’s side while brushing a hand down their daughter’s hair. Like her family, she remained silent as she watched her sister-in-law stand alone at the edge of the docking port. Staring ahead into the deep, quiet ocean. 

In the middle of the night one hundred years prior and 1,300 miles away, the ship of dreams known as Titanic sank to the bottom of the Atlantic. Carrying 2,240 souls on her maiden voyage to New York, only 706 made it to their destination. The rest were lost to the sea. 

Y/n L/n may have survived the sinking, but she died aboard Titanic. As the ‘unsinkable’ vessel took on water, her heart stopped. Never to beat again. Becoming frozen like the waters consuming them, she went on to outlive the 706 survivors rescued on the RMS Carpathia. The last one leaving the docks forever in 2009. 

Flowers in her hand, with the same face that boarded Titanic, Y/n approached the edge of the dock. The wind breezed past her, stronger this time but she remained afoot. Crouching down so her knees hovered over the wood. And when she leaned over to stare at the water, the reflection of that 17-year-old passenger stared back at her. 

With a shuddered breath, Y/n gently lowered the bouquet, watching as the current grasped the flowers, allowing them to drift away in the direction Titanic would have traveled when she reached her final destination. 

Golden eyes followed the flowers as they grew smaller and smaller in the distance until Y/n barely made out the color. When it was gone from her vision, she tilted her head up to the sky, smiling at the sight of the sun breathing through the dense clouds. 

They’d have to go indoors eventually, but Y/n rejoiced in the feeling that the universe was sending her a sign. They might be gone, but they are never forgotten. The people we love are always watching over us. Sometimes it’ll feel like a gentle touch to the shoulder. Or comes as a whisper. Or in a crowded room you might find their face. 

However it may come, they are always there. 

And as Y/n began to stand, wind picking up once more, she felt the caress of a hand on her shoulder, a gentle murmur filling her ears. 

“_Well...this it, our new home. Does it please you amor mio?

_Yes of course, Demetri. This is a bit like my home in Forks but smaller also cuter but don’t tell mom that!

_Your secret is safe with me. We could go into the living room and tell ourselves our story?

_Yeah sounds good to me.”

The living room was a perfect mix of cosy and modernity, they sat in the sofa, closer than two new friends but considering their bond they couldn’t help it. Y/N started her story first: she told him shes was twenty, she was dying of a brain cancer: her tumor couldn’t be took off and her body couldn’t handle it anymore. Then she told him how Carlisle found her a week before her death, bringing Esme the next day and the woman fell in love with the girl, with a bit of convincing Carlisle decided to change Y/N and told her everything a day before her death, he still gave her a choice while it’s was terrifying she didn’t wanted t die so she accepted. She told him her struggle with the animal diet because she loved them and adored nature, she skipped her stay with the Denali and finally finish with what she felt on the battleground (there wasn’t a battle but you know where u meant) 

“_I felt this pull towards your side of the field, it was like my un-beating heart was beating again, Edward directly snapped his head towards me but I choose to ignore at that moment. Then after the whole thing I met your eyes, it was the best thing that ever happen in my short vampiric life, I felt like I was blushing and had a high school crush again. You’re like my ideal man, you look a bit intimidating but I think your just a teddy bear that I want to cuddle, so yeah that’s my story!”

Demetri also told her everything: the little he remembered from his past life in Greek, Amun bitting and his life with him, how he discover his tracking gift and was recruited by the Volturi, he didn’t told her every details of his missions because it was a bit gruesome for her innocent mind, he came off clean about his reputation of the Casanova of the Volturi and assured that he’ll only be with her now because she’s his mate. He finished like her with the first time he saw her.

“_At first I thought the pull was my gift telling me something was wrong, because I tried to find my mate before but obviously it isn’t working on you. I didn’t concentrate on it much during the discussion but when Master Aro told that you were my mate I was shocked. After millenniums of waiting and believing I’ll always be alone, I finally found you and oh mio dio I wasn’t disappointed. You looked like a little angel, your eyes are two golden stars and I lost myself in them, your smile is gentle and soft, it make me want to kiss your lips forever, and I might be tall but I like that you’re smaller than me I could put you in my pocket. Your aura is just so warm, soft and gentle that might be my favorite thing about you. Living here with is gonna be the best thing of my long life and I already know it.”

"So needy," You tease him. He merely smiles and begins to sway with you in the living room. He hums the tune to one of your favorite songs. "You really think she'll like the food?"

"She'll love it," Carlisle assures, kissing your head. "And she'll love you," He adds, knowing the root o your anxiety. You smile bashfully and snuggle into his chest.

You weren't the most social Cullen. You grew up in an era where if you didn't have the perfect body you were constantly looked out, talked down too, and judged. You grew up on the chubbier, thicker side. Now, you're frozen with this body.

Carlisle adores your curves while you have a love hate relationship with them. Some days you soak up Carlisle's love while loving yourself but there's also days where you still absorb off of your husbands lovingness but it's harder (sometimes impossible) to love yourself. Carlisle, the light of your life, takes your mood swings in stride and loves you all the more for them.

However, with your mental struggle over your appearance you tend to avoid the public. You were shamed so much growing up and you weren't familiar with this new world. You were terrified it would still happen if you went into town or the city depending on where you all lived.

You knew your family accepted and loved you. You knew you had nothing to be ashamed of with them and you could be yourself. You were most comfortable at home.

That didn't mean that you locked yourself in your house. You still went around people, you just didn't like it. The only time you would leave would be if your children needed you, your husband needed you, or you wanted to surprise Carlisle at work.

Now there's a human coming to your home. A human that's important to your son therefore important to you.

"You're the heart of the family, baby," Carlisle whispers, threading his fingers through your hair. "She'll adore you like the rest of us,"

"Stop," You whisper, hiding in the crook of his neck as if you were blushing. He chuckles and holds you tighter.

A few hours later you and the family began to cook for Bella. Alice took Jasper out to feed and Rosalie continued to voice her objects about everything. Just another day in the Cullen home.

"Rosalie, try to smile, you're too beautiful to pout," You say from behind the counter. Rosalie gives you a sarcastic grin. "There ya go," You wink at her. Try as she might, a real smile began to break through her cold exterior. It doesn't last long as they smell Bella enter the house.

"It'll be fine," Carlisle whispers from beside you. You shoot him a nervous grin. A few minutes later and Bella enters the kitchen with Edward.

"Bella!" You greet. "We're making Italiano for you,"

"This is Y/n," Edward introduces you. You grin broadly, in an attempt to hide your anxieties, and before Edward could continue you're cutting him off.

"You can call me Papa, the rest of them do," You shrug your shoulders. "Or Y/n, whichever you prefer," You quickly add at the end. Carlisle lowers his head and grins. He finds you semi-ramble cute.

"You've given us an excuse to use the kitchen for the first time," Carlisle says. Bella looks around nervously.

"I hope you're hungry," You speak up.

"Oh, absolutely," Bella nods.

"She already ate," Edward deadpans. You try not to let your face fall. Bella sends him a quick glare.

"Perfect," Rosalie snaps, breaking the bowl in her hands. You turn everything off and walk into Carlisle's awaiting arms.

"I just assumed - because you don't ear, you know..." Bella stumbles over her words.

"It's alright," You promise her. "it's been a long time since any of us had cooked, probably wouldn't have been edible anyways," You joke trying to ease the tension. Carlisle's arms subtly tighten.

"Ignore her, I do," Edward mutters, glancing at Rose. You give him a scolding look knowing he was intentionally antagonizing his sister.

"Yes, let's keep pretending this isn't dangerous for all of us," Rosalie growls.

"I would never, ever tell anyone," Bella assures the family.

"She knows that," Carlisle assures her.

"The problem is, you two have gone public no, so..." Emmett mutters, trying to back up his wife.

"Emmett," You whisper, not wanting to get into this right now but Rosalie has other plans.

"No, she should know. The entire family will be implicated if this ends badly,"

"Badly?... Oh, badly... Like, where I become the meal,"

"Oh, sweetheart," You whisper, smiling at her. A few moments later, Jasper and Alice come in. The conversation continues for a few more awkward minutes before Edward pulls Bella away.

"That went well," Carlisle mutters, grinning. You turn and kiss his lips before looking at Rosalie.

"Clean this up, missy," You point to the mess. She frowns.

"Papa," She whines a bit.

"You make the mess, you clean it up," You parent. Emmett snickers at her and she glares at him. Carlisle pulls you out of the kitchen and up to your shared room. "She seems nice," You say, making a beeline to your bookshelf.

"She does," Carlisle agrees. "She'll be good for Edward,"

"I hope it works out," You mutter, trying to find a good read to unwind. However, you're mind was still reeling with all the possibilities that could happen with Bella being in the family.

"It'll be fine," Carlisle tells you. "Now, come here," He says pulling you back to him. "I got you something,"

"When did you have time to go buy me something? We've been together all day," You wonder.

"Darling, I was gone for an entire two hours while you were cleaning," Carlisle tells you.

"Oh," You mutter feeling sheepish. "Sorry," Carlisle shakes his head and kisses your shoulder. "What'd ya get me?"

"Close your eyes," He whispers. You whine and he pinches your side. You squirm but close your eyes. He moves away from behind you. You hear him walk around before coming back in front of you. "I saw this while I was in town and thought of you,"

"I can't imagine what it is, you buy everything that reminds you of me, I probably already have it," You tease. Carlisle lightly chuckles.

"Open your eyes and look,"

You do as told. In your hands it a painted canvas from a local artist. You take in it's beauty and uniqueness. Your mind is instantly racing with different places to display it. Shall you keep it to yourself in your room? Or hang it for the whole family?

"Do you like it?" Carlisle questions.

"It's gorgeous," You promise, looking up to him. "I love it," You quickly press a kiss to his lips before speeding around to get something to hang it up. "How about there?" You ask, looking at the painting hanging on the wall adjacent to the TV.

"Perfect," He whispers, staring at you.

"You're a hopeless romantic," You tell him, smiling shyly.

"Just for you," He says, returning to your side.

Life with Bella was never dull. Surviving James and Victoria was a cake walk compared to dealing with the Volturi. Somehow, through it all, you managed to stick together and come out on the other side.

"Handsome," Carlisle compliments. You spin around while adjusting your cufflinks.

Today's Graduation day. One of the days on the list of 'Days I leave the house'.

"You ready?" He asks you.

You take a deep, unneeded breath, and nod. He grabs your hand and gently pulls you to his chest. Your eyes close as his lips press to your forehead.

"I'm right here, I'll always be right here," He whispers. "Come on," Carlisle pulls you to the car where you and the family drive to the school.

Wherever the Cullen's went there was always attention on them. It's the only thing you don't like. You wished people would just mind their own business.

"Who's that?"

"Is that Doctor Cullen's husband?"

"I thought he had a wife?"

"I guess not every Cullen is perfect looking,"

"Beat it, skanks," Rosalie hisses viciously. The teenagers scramble away and the gossip begins to die down. You send her a playfully scolding look before giving her a fatherly kiss on the head.

"Come on, let's find a seat," Carlisle pulls you to the door. He opens it for you, winking as you walked past him. Your children go line up with the others while you take a seat with Carlisle.

Your husband sets a hand on your thigh and gives it a squeeze. You smile and kiss his cheek.

"I love you," He whispers.