themidnightson: "That's Edward Cullen." (Default)
[personal profile] themidnightson
Today was another one of those brilliant days.

Where he had to sit through their version of the monotonous high school hell counting hundredths of seconds.

(Which he had definitely sat through the end of telling himself he did not wonder why Bella kept tapping the pencil tip and eraser of her pencil, over her thin and pale finger, which clashed with her sweater choice, through the lecture on unicellular eukaryote microorganisms in the odd off tempo rhythm. It wasn't important. He shouldn't care. He didn't care. It was better that way.)

It was hours later when he arrived home.

The backpack was left in the closet on the way to the stairs.

He stopped at the top of the stairs searching out where his family members were and what they were doing.

Date: 2009-01-24 02:28 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (the children)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
He doesn't need to reiterate anything, and Carlisle can't think of anything more that needs saying right then, at that moment.

"It'll be fine."

The insinuation here is We've gotten through far worse than a bar at the end of the universe.

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themidnightson: "That's Edward Cullen." (Default)
Edward Cullen

July 2020

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