my isabella:

             “But Gavroche seems like you’re trying a little too hard to pretend to be French. You could have said you were Pepé Le Pew, I’m sure she’s never heard that one before.”

                                    “There’s been a lot that happened today.”

   Bella sighed, not exactly wanting to explain fully, knowing it would most likely upset him, since most of the fights she had started. So instead of explaining every detail, Bella focused intently on her hands as she pushed her shield out, dropping it long enough for Edward to see her whole day.

From the fight with Ness about going to school, the two of them at a standstill because neither of them wanted to quit being stubborn for five seconds to just listen to each other. She showed him how Renesmee ran off after the fight, going god knows where and how she still wasn’t home. Her worries resurfaced when she thought about what might have happened, about where she could be now. Bella just hoped she was at the rez.

But Bella reluctantly switched from her fight with their daughter to the one with the Volturi guard in the forest. She let Edward see what she saw, stopping Jane from hunting on the town lines, only to result in an argument that left both vampires ready to rip each others heads off. The anger was coming back into her mind as she recalled the events, her body tense as both their words rang around in her head, and into his as well. She couldn’t keep her shield down much longer, a ringing in her ears that told her she was at her limits and quickly let it snap back to her, her mind her own once again.

          He entered her mind slowly and warily; it was foreign to him, yet it was something he craved––-to have access of the mind that rarely let him in.  A quick glance around; other than the scenes that were being played, it was rather barren. It was as if his wife’s shield was secreting the other components of her conscious. Fascinating, it was, and curious was what it made him be.

           Through his wife’s memories, he watched as he spoke to his daughter, although it wasn’t him at all, and felt the thoughts that floated admist as the scene occurred. Adamancy with a tinge of sorrow was the most prevalent emotion, but he wasn’t an empath.

       Promptly, the walls changed and the breeze felt different. Gold upon crimson—his mate’s memories did not do justice to portray the woman’s fairness, yet she was anything but fair. He could see it in her eyes how vile she truly was.

      He felt her trite; he felt her tension, but in a flash, the guard was gone and standing before him was his wife. ❛ Is Renesmee still out? ❜ A concerned tone laced his voice as he spoke, but it was unusually quiet and small.

                                       ❛ Why didn’t you call me, Bella? I’m your husband. ❜

about three things that i’m absolutely positive that you show know about me: my name is shannon, my pronouns are she/her, && i’ve been penning ed on/off for approximately six years! other things you should know about me? i'm twenty-one years old, and i'm currently residing in the pst timezone!

my eddie is different. regardless of whether i'm writing him in his vampire or human verses, i've decided to depict edward less like an old man and more like the seventeen-year-old boy he'll forever be. you can read why i've chosen to do this in edward's general biography if you're interested!