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I didn’t like it. Not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too.
When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Carlisle has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn’t been denying my thirst for the last, well, too many years, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.
A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of
I didn’t want to leave, but it was necessary. It’s a bit easier to be around you when I’m not thirsty.