[Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?]

Set during Twilight, near the beginning of the book/movie

The splash of crimson against the marble white of her skin is so vivid that he can taste it. He can feel his teeth in her skin, the wash of warmth and sweetness fills his mouth and he swallows hard to keep from salivating. Drooling over a girl is one thing; drooling over her blood is quite another. He closes his eyes, forcing the image from his mind when he opens them again, her head is bowed, hair scooped up and away from the curve of her neck. His fingers dig into the laminate table top, the crack of wood making him jump. He doesn’t dare breathe, doesn’t need to breathe and yet his chest aches as if from a desperate need for oxygen.

She turns inward toward him, breath exhaling and he pushes himself to the edge of his chair, as far away from her as he can get without getting up to leave the room. He can’t focus because that image of her skin splashed with blood is back overriding every sense, every thought and every emotion. He’s quite there is something he should be paying attention to; something besides the thrum of Bella Swan’s blood beneath her skin.

It’s like a little hummingbird, fluttering there at her throat. The urge to reach out and crush that hummingbird sets his teeth on edge. And yet, for all the ways he wants to kill her and lap up her blood, he is also intrigued by her. She’s the one blank spot in the room, the book unread and he doesn’t like things unread, unexplored. The wish to consume her runs so much deeper than her blood and that desire threatens to swallow him whole, laying waste to everything he has built and become, branching out to decimate all of Carlisle’s efforts. Wanting her will be the death of them all but one shallow breath leaves him finding it hard to care.