Slow Drowning - Edward Cullen - (7)Hallucinations

A single piano key was pressed, letting it's smooth song echo throughout the silent home. It lingered in the air for a moment and wondered off into the quiet. A few seconds past and then, more keys followed, creating a soft melody.

It seemed that everyone inside the walls became deathly silent when the music began. Edward's composition was let to resonate off the walls without a single disruption, for the family was listening.

As his fingers gently grazed over the ivory, the sweet familiar melody of Bella's lullaby drifted. It drifted into something that even Edward was quite unsure of. Suddenly, his apprehension disappeared and he began to play from a distant memory. The notes became more and more deliberate with each second that past.

Then, the memory stopped. Edward became still, the tips of his long fingers resting on the piano keys. He furrowed his eyebrows and realized the song was never finished. The arrangement replayed softly in his mind.

All he could think about was Guinevere and a lifetime he'd forgotten.

A pair of ocher eyes curiously gazed at Edward from a distance, afraid to disturb his frantic scribbling. He would have had to know that she was there, but he didn't seem to care. Alice smiled when he pulled his face closer to the lined paper, seeming to be enthralled in the musical arrangement he was documenting.

She stayed motionless as Edward swiftly jerked up from the paper and stared at the keys. His mouth moved into a hard, straight line and he waited. Gently, his fingers picked up were they had left off only a small time before.

His fingers grazed over the black and white of the piano in a steady rhythm. It's slow, delicate melody hung in the air as Edward stared unseeingly ahead of him. His eyes clouded with visions of Guinevere. A girl he knew a lifetime ago. A girl that was incredibly human. She remained in a memory of his, that, until now, had faded.

He closed his eyes, hoping he could see her without interruption. In the back of his bluish eyelids, he saw her in perfect detail. There she was - standing in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by others. Guinevere's chocolate orbs were desolate as they searched. That is, until she caught his eye and the corners of her mouth turned upward into a charming smile. She had been looking for him.

She willingly let herself be pulled in by his watchful gaze, ignoring the others. Groups of sophisticated guests gossiped in hushed tones as she weaved in and out of them. Her gaze never faltered nor did her feet slow their pace.

Edward opened his eyes for a moment to memorize the rest of the notes and he shut them eagerly again. Guinevere was only feet away now. The soft light of the room shown heavenly upon the flushed skin of her beautiful cheeks and fair shoulders. His gaze wandered to her eyes. They looked incredibly innocent and alive, so unlike the ancient ones of recent. She smiled softly.

His hands continued their relentless pulse over the keys making an unbearably sweet song. It was her song. Edward raised one corner of his mouth into a crooked smile. He hoped she like it. "Edward." Her pink lips formed around his name unlike anyone else's ever had. Guinevere moved closer and the smell of her lilac perfume reached his nose. He breathed in heavily and started to grin, but without warning, the ballroom faded away. "Edward," she whispered again. He could feel her breath on his ear.

His eyes shot open and the music stopped. There, sitting inconceivably close to him on his piano bench, was Guinevere, still in her black ball gown. The light fell differently on her now. The warm sunlight filtered through the glass of the hazy windows and illuminated her delicate skin quietly.

Guinevere was still human. Edward could hear the beat of her heart. She pulled the corners of her mouth upward and watched him lovingly. Then, she leaned closer. Her warm lips brushed one cheek as her hand grazed his other. "Don’t come for me, Edward," she mumbled against his marble skin. When Guinevere pulled away, he reached for her. She laughed faintly. "Forget me."

"Gwen," Edward said, his velvet voice broken. His fingertips longed to feel her underneath them. He reached for her again, but she slipped away.

"Once … You said you'd die for me," Guinevere moved away, a simper playing on her pink lips. "but you must live for me too."

And then she was gone.

"Edward." A muffled voice came. "Edward," it repeated, this time far more clearly.

He blinked rapidly to see the hazy room become much more distinct and vibrant. Alice was standing in front of him, her honey eyes masked in worry. "Are you alright, Edward?"

His gaze flashed over the room for Guinevere. It was empty. They were alone.

He took a deep breath and averted his gaze back to his sister. "Fine. I'm fine," he answered, his voice grim. Edward knit his brow and closed the case around the significant keys. Next, he heard something much more alarming, much more horrifying than what Guinevere's memory told him to do, in Alice's thoughts. Edward diverted his gaze sharply to her pretty face. "We have to get Carlisle. Now."

"What happened?"

Alice's kind face became still as she concentrated. "I saw Guinevere killing one of the Volturi guards. Felix, I think." She shook her head. "But it keeps changing. How she kills him. Whether it's in the middle of the town square or in the castle surrounded by the others. I think she's wondering what would be the surest way."

"Surest way?"

"To get caught," Edward answered the Doctor's question, his beautiful face full of anger. "She wants them to know it was her so they'll kill her."

Carlisle's gaze was switched to the dark grey clouds outside of his window. "Do you know when?"

"I'm not sure exactly when, but I know it's soon. She'll want it that way."

"So there's no chance getting there before …?"

"No," Alice answered. "We'll have to get there before the Volturi makes their decision."

"Felix has been in the guard for quite some time. The Volturi won't like it in the least bit when they find out he's dead. There's no chance they'll keep her alive." Carlisle turned to his son. "I'm not sure if there's anything we can do."

Edward's face suddenly twisted violently. His fists balled up at his sides and he shouted angrily, "We have to try!"

The music drifted away and the Cullen home faded before her eyes. Guinevere was once again alone and very much immortal. She squeezed her eyes shut and yearned to touch Edward again. Her fingers tingled in the remembrance of the resent feeling. She knew it would never happen again.

After tonight, her fate would be changed. After tonight, her life was no longer in her hands. The likelihood of living forever would be incredibly small and most desirably insignificant.

Though it broke her heart to know that the comfort she found in Edward would never again be felt, she took solace in the idea that the world would be a better place without her. Even if it meant that she would cease to see the beautiful face of her love and hear the sound of his velvet voice.

Even if it meant destroying her life.

Edward would go on living without her. He would be happy and in love with another. She would be pleasantly consoled by this in her hell.

It was a fool proof plan.

But that didn't mean she still couldn't grieve until then. Guinevere pressed herself against her solitary window. Through the dusty glass, she saw a world outside that she would never know. She let her fingers run down the cool surface craving for the life she had been ripped from. Turning around, her gaze wandered aimlessly. She slid down the cold stone wall down onto the floor.

Her time was winding down.

And all Guinevere could or wanted to think about was Edward.

She imagined what life would be like if the Spanish influenza hadn't spread throughout Chicago and killed half of its residents. Would they have been married? Guinevere caught her breath. Just the idea of it made light of her dreary load.

Looking down at her hands, she rubbed the finger where Edward would have placed his mother's wedding ring. After a moment she sighed and thought of the rest of their life. They might have moved out into the country, away from all the noise of the city. Away from her insufferable mother and the restrictions of high society. A place where they could just … be.

Would they have a family? She hoped so. Guinevere smiled at the thought. She was sure he would have made a great father and for that one moment she humored the idea of her being a good mother.

Closing her eyes, she saw a beautiful scene. She let herself be taken away by the warm summer wind.

The sun fell over the rolling hills of the countryside and thawed her cold skin. The light breeze played with her curls, moving them around her round face. Without warning, Guinevere felt a wonderful, missed sensation. A warm mouth touched her cheek. Swiftly, she turned her face to the left. There, Edward sat next to her on a whitewashed porch step.

His handsome face was illuminated in the glorious light of the day, flushing his cheeks and brightening his emerald eyes. Guinevere outstretched her arm and ran her fingers through his bronze hair. He looked older, she noted. Her fingers trailed down to his jaw, his hot skin burning her bitter fingertips.

His jaw line was much more defined and less childish. The strong cheekbones she was acquired to adoring, were slightly covered in light facial hair. Around his still bright and young eyes, were the beginnings of lines interrupting his smooth skin.

He was so beautiful, even now.

Edward watched her, his orbs hinting worry. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," she answered, a smile creeping up her pink lips. "Everything's perfect."

"Good." Edward grinned. The lines around his eyes deepened and he reached for her hand. Their fingers entwined.

Happy laughter was heard in the midst of the restful silence a few moments later. Guinevere reluctantly averted her gaze from her love to see a pair of children. They were running around the front yard joyfully, their smiles reaching the heart of their mother.

A girl with copper hair around the tender age of six stopped abruptly and grinned up at them. She waved, her body shaking slightly with childish enthusiasm. Guinevere returned the sentiment and felt a piece of her hair being pulled behind her ear. "You know," Edward whispered, his breath tickling her neck. "Elizabeth looks more and more like you with every sunrise."

Guinevere's gaze kept on the child. She had her eyes, her dark brown eyes. "She does, doesn't' she?"

Edward nodded. "You're both beautiful."

"Come on Liz!" a little boy shouted at the top of his lungs. He also had bright bronze hair that fell a little into his green orbs, which were lively and content. He was definitely Edward's son.

His name was William. Her son's name was William.

"Now, Will looks exactly like you. He's going to be a heartbreaker some day," Gwen commented with a smirk, her eyes switching from one youth to the other. "just like you were."

Edward laughed. "I was never a heartbreaker."

"Now you're lying," she countered, raising her eyebrows.

His face became serious and his hand grazed her smooth, pink cheek. "I never broke your heart."

Guinevere smiled at the irony. He did break her heart, just not in this life. Not on purpose of course, but just the same. Edward lifted her chin towards him, looking for an answer. She pulled herself closer. "No, you haven't."

Touching his cheek against hers, he said so quietly that no one but his wife could hear, "I love you so much." He kissed her softly on the lips and held her face to his. "I could never live without you."

Her breath caught in her throat and she answered no louder than a weak whisper, "I love you too." Guinevere wrapped her arms around him and clutched him to her, so afraid to let go. So afraid her dream would end. She closed her eyes, her head comfortably resting in the crook of his neck and she breathed him in. Her lungs filled with his scent.

Edward let his hands gingerly run across her back in a soothing rhythm. "There is something wrong," he demanded, his voice saddened. Tilting his head downwards, he pressed his cheek against hers once again.

She sighed against his soft skin. "I just - I wish this didn't have to end."

He smiled knowingly and caressed the exposed side of her face. While she found herself immersed in his touch, she felt him suddenly go rigid. Every muscle in his body became tense and he stopped breathing.

"Edward, what …?" Guinevere began, following his averted line of sight. A feral growl ripped from her throat when she saw a figure crossing her yard, separating her children, whose faces were overwhelmed in horror.

"Gwen." Edward clutched her hand tightly.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The guard glanced around, unseeingly. Then, his eyes flashed to hers. His expression was amused.

The countryside began to fade before her eyes and quickly, the large tree in the side yard, the green grass, and her children disappeared while the dark stones of the castle replaced them. Guinevere snapped her attention to her love, hoping he hadn't gone along with them.

"Gwen," Edward whispered again, still faithfully beside her. When she looked at him, she saw his face still lit with the summer sunlight. His eyes became frantic. "We may not be able to have this life, with our children, but we can have another." He flashed a glance at Felix. "We can have our forever still."

"No," she choked out. Shaking her head, she tried to concentrate on him. Guinevere tried to keep Edward with her and forget the reality that night brought. "We can't."

Edward grabbed her face between his hands with urgency. "Yes, we can. Guinevere. Please. Wait for me."

"Kent," the harsh voice of the Volturi member came. "Get up."

Guinevere ignored him and focused on the lines of Edward's face. "Please," he said again, the tip of his nose running across hers. He inhaled her scent. "I'm coming."

"I said," Felix took hold of her arm harshly and pulled her to her feet. "get up."

She flicked her gaze toward Felix, her eyes becoming dark with danger. Her face twisted in agitation and rage.

"Gwen," Edward voiced. "Don't do this."

Felix became entertained. A sly smile played on his lips. "Not very friendly, are we?"

A low growl sounded from her throat and she felt something grab at her fist. She looked quickly behind her and saw Edward's worried face. "Don't," he whispered.

After a moment, he started to fade. She watched him desperately, her unneeded breaths becoming short. Then, he was gone. Guinevere turned back to Felix. "Was there something you wanted?" Her voice came out very defeated and her stance became passive.

Felix ignored her and a strange look washed over his chalky face. He said, "You really were the perfect choice. Strong, smart, beautiful," He grazed his fingers over her cheek. He felt nothing like Edward. She cringed away. "even when you were dying."

Noticing her reaction, Felix explained. "Chicago 1918. What a wonderful time. So many people dying," he mused. "You see I wasn't looking for a companion, but I thought it might be interesting to see what you did. If you had no one there to tell you the rules. If you had no one there to stop you from massacring half of the city. You were an experiment, if you will." Felix smiled.

Guinevere's expression became less composed, showing little of the horror she felt inside. "You changed me?"

"Yes."

"And you left me to become a monster?"

"You were a bit of a disappointment, really." Subsequently, he assured her, "You were quite amusing in the beginning. Killing practically every low life you saw. Lurking in the shadows of alleys." He laughed. "Your technique was quite impressive. But then," His delight disappeared. "you gained a conscience. It was most … inconvenient."

"Inconvenient?!" She was outraged. Her fists clenched at her sides, while her jaw became tight. She struggled to restrain herself, but she would.

Edward would win - for now.