𝕀'𝕞 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕨.

After arriving, after stopping him, after promising The Volturi what she had. Tracing a finger over the curve of Bella's wrist on his armrest, he knows there's more. There's always more. And when they get there, even more.

He's going home. Is it home? Home was never a place before. Forks. The place his, never more than silent, heart has had spasmodic dreams about for six months. And they'll all be there, flown down from Denali because he'll be there, too.





And they'll expect more than silence, too.