Morticia Cullen|E.C\B.S

The incessant drizzle of Forks was already getting under my skin, a cold, persistent dampness that seemed to seep into my bones, even if they were technically no longer capable of feeling true cold. I stood by the large living room window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the already muted greens of the forest outside. Two years here, and it still felt alien.

"I already feel like I'm gonna hate this place," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, a habit I'd picked up from my human days and never quite shook, even as a vampire.

Rosalie, ever the dramatic one, glided up beside me, her golden eyes mirroring my disdain. "Me and you both," she sighed, her perfect features arranged in a familiar pout. Our shared misery was almost comforting.

Carlisle's calm, reassuring voice floated up from the foot of the stairs, pulling us from our mutual gloom. "Well, this is the next place we will stay. If it makes you happy, you can pick the next place." He entered the living room, Esme close behind him, her face radiating warmth, as always. The perfect parents, even if we were all technically much, much older.

I just shrugged, the gesture feeling heavy. "No thanks, don't care enough." I retreated to the plush couch, sinking into its cushions. The familiar scent of Edward, already there, was a small anchor in the swirling unease within me. Maybe Forks wouldn't be so bad. Maybe. Probably not.