The Rose and the Thorn: Ch. 2

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Edward clenched his eyes shut and sank to the ground in shock. What was that thing? Where did that bright flash of white light come from? Oh, it hurt!

Gradually and blinking frequently, he opened his now watering eyes and tried to focus on the girl that the flash had come from, but all he saw were pink and green dots.

"Are you a vampire or something?" He heard her ask. "Is that why you can't step into the light?"

What's a vampire? Edward thought, but more importantly, Who are you? What do you want?

Taking a deep breath, he straightened and stood up. She had said she wasn't afraid of him, and that she wouldn't hurt him. They had all said that. They had all meant well...

Unable to control his hands as they snipped erratically at his sides, he took one hesitant step forward, then another, and another, until he was out of the shade and made visible by the afternoon sun streaming in through the hole in the roof.

Suffice it to say, her reaction, or lack thereof, was unexpected. She didn't gasp or scream or even ask him what had happened to him.

"He...he never finished me," was his reply to an unasked question.

"What?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

Edward pursed his lips, answering only with the blinking of his fathomless ebony eyes. He had thought she'd asked him a question, but he'd only been hearing things. He began to feel a slight flush arise in his pallid cheeks as he realized what he'd done.

The girl, to his pleasant surprise, didn't seem to think it a big deal at all.

"So...you must be who trims the bushes out front," she said, her dark eyes moving down to look at his scissorhands.

Edward wanted to shove them behind his back, so ashamed was he of the hateful things. They could create beautiful things, and they made him special. He knew that, but ultimately, all they gave him was trouble, and he would do anything in his power to trade them in for a pair of real, flesh-and-bone hands, just like everyone else had. Unfortunately, he was powerless.

He managed a small nod in reply. He didn't want the girl to ask him questions, or even speak to him. All he wanted was to look at her, so long had it been since he'd seen a human being up-close. He just wanted to study her eyes, her hair, her clothing, all black, like his. But her face, though pale, was without scars. She looked beautiful. She looked like...no. Not really. Though there was something about her expression, the innocence, the fire...yes. She definitely reminded him of Her.

"Are...you okay?" she asked him, becoming concerned about the sorrow, the longing she saw in his glittering black eyes.

Those words...Her words...from so long ago.

"Yes." He couldn't stop staring at her. He knew it was wrong to gape at people, his father had taught him so, but he couldn't help it. She was so beautiful, and human, and so close. He wished he could just reach out and...

"So, you live here?" she asked, taking a step back, not quite convinced of the answer he'd given her. He'd gotten even paler, if that were possible, and he looked as if he were about to faint. She wanted to look away. The emotion in his eyes made her want to cry. It was so raw, so pure and honest. What was it that made him feel this way? Why was he looking at her like this? No, not looking at her. Looking into her, peering deep within the wells of her soul and seeking something. Seeking something he would not find.

"Well...uh..." she wasn't quite sure what to say. Maybe he didn't speak much English. Maybe she should ask him. Yes, that's it.

"I do."

"Great. You...you got a name?"

"Edward."

"Lydia." He'd almost expected her to say 'Kim' but wasn't too visibly disappointed when she didn't.

Etiquette told him that he should extend a hand and say "Pleased to meet you, Lydia." But he didn't have a hand, not like the people in the book did, and though he wanted to say something, anything to break the awkward silence, he found it quite impossible to do so.

Lydia smiled, if only slightly and seemed to read his mind. "I'd shake your hand, but that could get messy." Edward's feelings would have been hurt had he not know that it was all in fun. She didn't know how much not being normal bothered him. She didn't have to.

He smiled back.

"So yeah, uh, we're moving in. Oh shit! We're moving in!?" Her expression changed suddenly as if something had just hit her upside the head, and in a way, it had. She'd forgotten all about their moving into the house. How could they live here if he did? How could he live here if they'd said no one had for decades? It didn't add up.

Edward just stared at her, his eyes speaking for him.

"We...we can't just take over your house...you do live here, right?" He nodded. He didn't understand what she was talking about. "Well I have to tell them! You have to tell them. I mean..." she made a noise of exasperation and turned away from him, heading across the room and back down the stairs.

Her flight in the opposite direction snapped Edward out of his trance.

"Wait!" he called quietly, raising a hand as if reaching to her, though he knew he could never touch her. "Don't leave. You just got here."

"I'm not leaving...I just have to tell them that someone all ready lives here. You have to come with me so that they believe me."

"I...don't understand." Lydia turned back to face him. She was confused, herself.

"Ok...I'm here with my parents. Well, my dad and my step-mom. We bought this house. We're planning on fixing it up so that its fit for living in, and then we're moving in. Or at least that's what we were going to do before I realized that someone already lives here. Jesus, how could they have sold the freaking house if it already belongs to somebody??"

"I don't have a social security number," Edward recited what the man at the bank had told him as clearly as if it had been said, yesterday. "I might as well not exist."

Lydia looked at him almost as if she'd been struck a blow to the chest.

"Who are you?" she found herself asking before she'd even remembered telling her lips to move.

"Nobody."