Dean Ficco's Posts - Cullens Online2024-03-28T16:18:24ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFiccohttp://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/3144279996?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1http://thecullensonline.ning.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=0w87xqclitio7&xn_auth=noNew Moon- Partial Draft (Edward POV)tag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-10-09:3404507:BlogPost:10901362015-10-09T17:09:35.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p>Typical. I could hear Alice's thoughts beaming from the other room and I groaned. "You know this won't go well." Bella didn't want a party. She had been very insistent on us not acknowledging her birthday at all. Of course, all of us would have to compromise. All but Alice it seemed. </p>
<p>"She'll love it." This wasn't exactly true either. Alice knew Bella would only halfheartedly enjoy the gathering, despite how much she always appreciated everything done for her. Alice had seen this in…</p>
<p>Typical. I could hear Alice's thoughts beaming from the other room and I groaned. "You know this won't go well." Bella didn't want a party. She had been very insistent on us not acknowledging her birthday at all. Of course, all of us would have to compromise. All but Alice it seemed. </p>
<p>"She'll love it." This wasn't exactly true either. Alice knew Bella would only halfheartedly enjoy the gathering, despite how much she always appreciated everything done for her. Alice had seen this in her own visions. I rolled my eyes to myself, this not being seen by Alice, physically or otherwise. Alice was what I would conciser stubborn. Nothing anyone did or said would change her mind once it had been made up. Of course this didn't fully extend. If the matter were serious, you could always count on Alice to do the right thing. </p>
<p>"Besides, she isn't going to have many more real birthdays. She should enjoy them while shes still human." Alice didn't seem to care that this kind of talk bothered me. I gritted my teeth, forcing the growl back into my chest."You're wrong." My voice, though low, was still thick with harsh intent. Insistent. Alice wouldn't get to decide this. I could see her mentally roller her eyes as I tried, once again, to change the future she saw. She didn't say anything this time, out loud anyway and anything she had to say mentally she tried to stifle. She didn't take as much pleasure in agitating me as some of the others did. </p>
<p>"Let's go. Were going to be late." The agitation in Rosalie's voice was twice as potent as that in my own. Just the mention of Bella was enough to dampen her mood, not that it was ever that light to begin with. I tried my best to ignore this, knowing that it had little to do with Bella and far more to do with the circumstances. </p>
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<p>The drive to school was...average. Emmett and Rosalie goggling over each other in the back seat, Alice going over her party plans to Jasper who patiently listened, and I drove. I tried to block all of them out, my eyes on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel. This was a normal morning for us. </p>
<p>By 'late' Rosalie had only meant we would not be early, overexerting for the sake of theatrics. The parking lot was still only half full when we arrived. the back end of the lot completely empty, the exception being three scattered cars who's owners seemed to believe parking this far would beat the dismissal traffic.</p>
<p>It only took a few moments for the loud roar of the ancient truck to come into earshot, one and a half, perhaps, two miles down the road. I stood, my hands in my pockets as I waited. It would take her a little over average, about 5 minuets, to reach the lot. I had wished she would just allow me to purchase her a new vehicle, half due to my inpatients and the other half for her safety. </p>
<p>The roar grew louder, naturally, this would turn heads but by now most of the students had been accustomed to her presence and that of the loud vehicle. It was now ignored by all but me. She parked, and I slowly made my way across the lot, allowing her a moment to situate herself. </p>
<p>"Happy Birthday."</p>Cold Nights- Bella POVtag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-10-09:3404507:BlogPost:10898682015-10-09T16:00:00.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font face="Segoe Print"><font>I softly kicked my feet at the quilt wrapped around me. It's presence was at minimum, unsatisfactory. . The quilt was a compromise and although it was necessary for both my health and comfort I disliked it. No matter how close I was allowed, that was possible, I was not the slightest bit appeased. I pressed my head to the cold stone chest that was undoubtedly Edward Cullen, his smooth fingertips moved up my back to entangle in my hair. I…</font></font></p>
<p lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font face="Segoe Print"><font>I softly kicked my feet at the quilt wrapped around me. It's presence was at minimum, unsatisfactory. . The quilt was a compromise and although it was necessary for both my health and comfort I disliked it. No matter how close I was allowed, that was possible, I was not the slightest bit appeased. I pressed my head to the cold stone chest that was undoubtedly Edward Cullen, his smooth fingertips moved up my back to entangle in my hair. I took a deep breath taking his scent in, my eyes automatically closing with its ubiquity. I could feel my brows furrow as my face pressed into him. "Sleep." His voice penetrated the darkness with a sort of belonging that made my heart blister with twice as many beats. He didn't say anything but words weren't always necessary with Edward. His muscles tensed underneath me in responce, the stone hardening to an impossible density. I gripped on to his thin T-shirt, my head shaking just enough to be noticed. "I'm not tired." It sounded more like a demand than a fact and in comparison to his voice sounded entirely too loud. He brushes his lips against my head and started to hum softly into my hair. My lullaby. Once again my body betrayed me and I was asleep.</font></font></p>
<p><br/></p>idiosyncrasytag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-09-26:3404507:BlogPost:10890402015-09-26T21:12:59.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p> I don't know what I had expected to come from this. What it was I wanted for this life I was forced to endure. The hopeless demeanor I had spiraled into had left no room for pointless thought or dreams. It had seemed that, I was hibernating. Simple getting through each day blankly, my mind as absent as my body would allow it to become. I often feel myself slipping back into this mind set in which I had once lived, my mind wondering back into it's hibernating state.</p>
<p> Fear has found…</p>
<p> I don't know what I had expected to come from this. What it was I wanted for this life I was forced to endure. The hopeless demeanor I had spiraled into had left no room for pointless thought or dreams. It had seemed that, I was hibernating. Simple getting through each day blankly, my mind as absent as my body would allow it to become. I often feel myself slipping back into this mind set in which I had once lived, my mind wondering back into it's hibernating state.</p>
<p> Fear has found it's way into my bloodstream, slowly seeping through my bones, causing every muscle to ache with anguish. I'm no longer sure I ever fully healed. I now have a reason to live- two reasons; something to look forward to every day but some how the throbbing anguish of my mind has returned, causing every muscle in my body to rival in misery. </p>
<p>I am not the only one who has noticed these changes in myself. Jasper, naturally, feels them as well. In my presence, his mind becomes consumed with the nameless remains of my old life. He finds himself as confused as myself, trying his best to replace these emotions with something else. It helps, my mind becomes more at ease. My body on the other hand, feels no relentlessness toward the constant strain.</p>
<p> Carlisle has begun to notice as well and this only gives the fear a reason to render in it's place. It was only a matter of time now before Esme, or worse Bella, picked up on the inevitable doom of my mental state.</p>
<p></p>Slumbertag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-05-10:3404507:BlogPost:10786012015-05-10T22:30:00.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p>"Edward." At the sound a nostalgic pulse rushed through me. I was use to being able to hearing her thoughts now. My hearing was still selective, she only granted me what she wanted to. Frustrating as it was I had decided it would have to be enough. Having something I once longed for would always bring me excitement, surges of adrenalin that rushed over me, regardless the amount of time that it had been available to me. I was unsure if this was a character trait or an undead one, if being…</p>
<p>"Edward." At the sound a nostalgic pulse rushed through me. I was use to being able to hearing her thoughts now. My hearing was still selective, she only granted me what she wanted to. Frustrating as it was I had decided it would have to be enough. Having something I once longed for would always bring me excitement, surges of adrenalin that rushed over me, regardless the amount of time that it had been available to me. I was unsure if this was a character trait or an undead one, if being able to hold onto old dreams was apart of a frozen personality or myself.</p>
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<p>"Hm." Eyes still closed I mumbled into her hair, the absence in my voice noticeable. If I did not know better, I would assume I had been sleeping, dozed off maybe, only awakening at the sound of her 'voice'. I supposed I did my own form of dreaming, daydreaming perhaps? I opened my eyes now. She looked down, a small smile on her face. She was fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, her thin fingertips tracing over the stitching. She enjoyed our small, mental talks almost as much as I did. Almost.</p>
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<p>She paused a second, still biting her lower lip. She was blocking me out while she thought. This agitated me but I ignored it, pushing the emotion to the back of my mind. Patients was something I would always have to struggle with. After another moment, she looked up at me. "I love you, you know." Her lips were pressed together in a hard line. As if she were admitting something she didn't want to. My eyebrows puckered. "Do you really?" Though only a whisper, the words carried doubt.</p>
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<p>I placed my hand along her jaw, my thumb grazing back and forth along her pronounced cheekbone. The concern expression remained on my face as I pressed my mouth to hers. "I love you too." The words slipped soundlessly out from between my lips and into hers. She sighed, kissing me back before leaning away. "You know what I mean." The words were spoken aloud this time. Tendrils of dark hair floated around her face as she shook her head, her eyebrows mocking mine.</p>
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<p>She was still upset over our disagreement. Being a father was never something I had considered for myself. It had never been a possibility for me, not that I knew of anyway. The trials were as difficult for me as they were for Bella. We often had different styles of parenting. As Renesmee grew we struggled on how her milestones would be placed for her, both of us wildly inexperienced with the process.</p>
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<p>I lifted my head, placing my lips on the top of her hair. She was trying to apologize. "I know." She leaned into me now, her face resting in the nook of my shoulder. This is how we spent many nights, the way we use to. Absently, I ran my fingers through her hair, my eyes closing again. This was our sleep.</p>
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<p></p>Theorizationtag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-05-05:3404507:BlogPost:10781132015-05-05T00:30:00.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;">“No anguish I have had to bear on your account has been too heavy a price to pay for the new life into which I have entered in loving you.”</span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> -George Eliot …</span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;">“No anguish I have had to bear on your account has been too heavy a price to pay for the new life into which I have entered in loving you.”</span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> -George Eliot <br/></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> I wished I could agree with him, that no price I had to pay was too much, that I could live peacefully with the promise I had made. Bella's life was too big a price, to valuable. She would argue that it was her price, that I had no say in the matter. She has no idea how entirely wrong she was. The pain and guilt for allowing it would all be my own. She didn't know what it was she was asking for, what she was all too willingly giving up. The thought alone caused me excruciating pain. It serrated through my entire being, forcing me weak. This was not something I welcomed. I could not allow weakness, it was entirely too dangerous.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> Her eyebrows furrowed, lips turning down at the corners. It was as if subconsciously, she could recognize the danger she was so oblivious too awake. A groan built in her throat and she gripped my shirt, her frail fingers warm through the thin fabric. Bella had never been a sound sleeper, tossing and turning through out the night, her hair becoming wild around her. This was also something I would miss. Yet another reason to loath myself for promising her what she wanted. I slowly lifted my hand, allowing it to graze across her forehead, to smooth the hard lines that dwelled there.</span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> Not too long ago I yearned to make this simple gesture. If I could only have brushed her hair out of her face, allowed my lips to touch her hand. Now it almost hurt. Every touch far too significant, a reminder of what I was to do. I would soon never again feel her warmth. An ache built in the back of my throat. As the seconds ticked by I could feel it swelling, closing the space between my windpipes. I would find another way. I would convince her to change her mind.</span> <span class="font-size-3" style="font-family: verdana,geneva;"> </span></p>self-condemnationtag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-30:3404507:BlogPost:10774842015-04-30T21:05:49.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 13pt;">Hatred for Carlisle had burned inside of me. The memory of that alone pained me, guilt consuming my chest. The reconciliations of the beginning were full of shame. How I could of felt anything but gratitude towards him, disobeyed him so blatantly, was now…</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">Hatred for Carlisle had burned inside of me. The memory of that alone pained me, guilt consuming my chest. The reconciliations of the beginning were full of shame. How I could of felt anything but gratitude towards him, disobeyed him so blatantly, was now unfathomable.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">Awakening, my emotions had been heightened to a point I was never accustomed to. Rage blistered hotter than the impossible flame of my throat. A pain beyond explanation. What I had become, what he had made me did not, at the time, feel like a second chance. It was condiment. A hell I would have to endure every moment of eternity.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">Underneath resentment was a much more painful. I was left to mourn everything my life had been. The only things I had ever known. Grief ate at what ever was left of me. Whatever fragments of a person had been left were dissolved, like they had never existed.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">I wanted to die, that is, If I were not dead already. The idea that I was still alive was absurd. This was not life, it was something in between. Not dead nor alive, simply existing. Time became immeasurable. Both minuets and weeks blended together. The only signs of change the luminescence along with the change of the atmosphere of the world.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">I had lost all comfort in day. The constant reminders of what I had lost engrossing me to my misery beyond a point of coping. Midnight, was much more favorable.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">The streets, only visible to my eyes, were almost empty, the only inhabitants other monsters. Creatures that preyed on other creatures. Disgusting excuses for human beings. I found in this, what I had considered a loophole. To feed on only them, to prey only on those who would otherwise prey on others, was justifiable. To be a monster of only other monsters. These were decisions I would soon regret.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">In the darkness, the silence of the empty streets, I could silence my own thoughts. It was hard, to focus on keeping my own mind silent all the while others continue on. It was a matter that only added to my frustration, feeding to the flame like lit charcoal. If I could only have slept, just once more dissolve into unconsciousness. To constantly battle myself, between what I was an what I wanted to be, was exhausting. My mind always on the brim of destruction, not ever weak enough to give in.</font></font></span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="font-size-2"><font face="Traditional Arabic, serif"><font style="font-size: 13pt;" size="3">It was not till later on in life, after Esme had given me back my remorse, revived a piece of that dissolved humanity, that I had realized Carlisle was not the one who had made me a monster. I was.</font></font></span></p>Vivicationtag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-17:3404507:BlogPost:10762742015-04-17T23:00:19.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p class="western" lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en"><font face="David, sans-serif"><font size="3">I had never found pleasure in the tedious routine of false , human life. I had thought, though in many ways I am glad I was incorrect, that I would have a much more protracted postponement from it all. With all the obsticals we had all been faced with I had more than expected a long, secluded break. But some how here I find myself. With a sigh I opened my…</font></font></p>
<p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font face="David, sans-serif"><font size="3">I had never found pleasure in the tedious routine of false , human life. I had thought, though in many ways I am glad I was incorrect, that I would have a much more protracted postponement from it all. With all the obsticals we had all been faced with I had more than expected a long, secluded break. But some how here I find myself. With a sigh I opened my eyes. The dull , grey luminous of the outdoors swallowing both the car and myself.</font></font></p>
<p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font face="David, sans-serif"><font size="3">After the trials I had faced, the oppressions I had endured, it seemed trivial. Yet here I found myself, occupying yet another arid High school parking lot. The annoyance was heavy on my chest. Somehow, despite the period of time I had spent away from this life, though to a human would be considerably long, seemed to have never even existed. Years of inpatients and wasted time once again burdened me. The never ending, repetitive thoughts of human teenagers flooded my mind once more.</font></font></p>
<p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;"><font face="David, sans-serif"><font size="3">She touched my arm, her fingertips that once scorched my skin, now cool indented themselves in the place they abide. They held their own now. Her eyes were soft much unlike her features. They held her anxieties, reveling to me what I was very frustratingly unable to hear. It was odd, once the reason the routine was beneficial, she was not apart of the charade.</font></font></p>
<p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;"><font face="David, sans-serif"><font size="3">Suddenly and all at once, the scenario in front of me shifted. This would not be the same tedious charade it once was. Suddenly, I understood the excitement the others had gone through once finding each other. How each and every task, regardless of how ordinary, was suddenly exciting. Instantly, this was new.</font></font></p>Unattached - Bella POVtag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-17:3404507:BlogPost:10761782015-04-17T22:17:58.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Batang, serif"><font size="2" style="font-size: 11pt;">I sat in front of my window. I did this a lot over the past few months. I had watched the grass grow than die, and cover in snow. Measuring this time seemed impossible. It felt like years and only minutes all at the same time. I wasn't sure which of the two I preferred. On one hand it had been long enough where I should be getting over it. I wasn't of course, but knowing I should be gave me an odd…</font></font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Batang, serif"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">I sat in front of my window. I did this a lot over the past few months. I had watched the grass grow than die, and cover in snow. Measuring this time seemed impossible. It felt like years and only minutes all at the same time. I wasn't sure which of the two I preferred. On one hand it had been long enough where I should be getting over it. I wasn't of course, but knowing I should be gave me an odd sense of comfort. Maybe it was because my hope had disintegrated to only a grain in the huge hole that was now Isabella Swan. But I also missed his scent on my clothes. I had worn every articular of clothing with any traces of him so often that they were now gone.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Batang, serif"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">I wanted to email Alice again though there really wasn't any point. She wouldn't read any of them and I had no more words for the way I felt. I was the definition of a black hole. My misery brought everyone else in with it. My presence brought a dark cloud and no one really wanted to get wet. At lunch I found myself sitting at the empty table that was once occupied by the Cullens. It caused less damage. No one else had to get rained on but me. At home wasn't as simple. Charlie insisted on spending time with me, getting me to watch TV and eat dinner. He insisted on standing under the cloud.</font></font></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Batang, serif"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">He was getting worried and my skills of deception weren't enough to bring the frown lines to rest. The nightmares weren't helping either. He had ran into my room on several occasions over the past few months to my screaming. I had tried not sleeping to stop his concern but that only made it worse.</font></font></p>Lacerationstag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-15:3404507:BlogPost:10763262015-04-15T18:00:00.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en"><font size="2" style="font-size: 11pt;">The pain that seared through every measure of my being was beyond anything I had ever thought possible. If I were capable of coherent thought, I would have questioned how I was still alive. I had wished I wasn't. Like tree roots, my insides twisted around each other so that they may never untangle, a permanent consequence of my actions. Each tree root a different emotion, the…</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en" lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">The pain that seared through every measure of my being was beyond anything I had ever thought possible. If I were capable of coherent thought, I would have questioned how I was still alive. I had wished I wasn't. Like tree roots, my insides twisted around each other so that they may never untangle, a permanent consequence of my actions. Each tree root a different emotion, the combination was so overbearing if I had not known better I would have thought I could not feel at all. If I had been selfless, been able to leave in the beginning, I would have saved myself this agony. The irony, in causing myself so much pain through being selfish was almost enough to cause hysterics.</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en" lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">... How easily she had believed me. The possibility that I would not, could not want her was so impossible I found myself unable to grasp how she could except such an excuse. This new pain, this inconceivable agony made the old burn of thirst dull and admissible. Like a dull, galling tooth ache. Enough to displease you but not particularly painful.</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en" lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">The myriad of voices in my head clustered together, the sound a loud hum. I could not face my family, not yet, if ever. I had to get away, to escape the ringing that was undoubtedly their concern. I unfocused my eyes, allowing the trees around me to become a blur of monotonous color. My head was blank, incapable of thinking through the build of imitational pressure that amassed from within my skull. Thoughts and regrets clotted there, and I pressed the blankness to continue with more force than should have ever been necessary, afraid of the outcome that accumulated with thought.</font></p>Cold nightstag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-15:3404507:BlogPost:10761382015-04-15T17:17:18.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en"><font size="2" style="font-size: 11pt;">She kicked the thick quilt, her eyebrows pinched together in frustration. She was as unfond of our compromise as I was. It was, however, necessary. I doubted I would ever become use to the unyielding magnetism her small frame had against me. I had always assumed that, with time, it was something that would diminish . Slowly loosening it's grip on me so that eventually I would be…</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">She kicked the thick quilt, her eyebrows pinched together in frustration. She was as unfond of our compromise as I was. It was, however, necessary. I doubted I would ever become use to the unyielding magnetism her small frame had against me. I had always assumed that, with time, it was something that would diminish . Slowly loosening it's grip on me so that eventually I would be able to endure it painlessly. It appeared that, once again, I would be proven wrong. Absently, I let my fingertips glide along the arches in her back, gently entangling them into her hair. She pressed her head to me, gripping the back of my shirt between her narrow fingers as she pulled herself in closer to me, the heat burning in the percise impression of her form. “Sleep.” Although only a murmur the sound pierced the darkness, interupting the rythem of her heart. The disturbance annoyed me. The pace in which it thumped increased, as if it shared the dis-contentedness with me.</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">Automatically and with out my consent my muscles contracted, so use to forced restraint they had learned to react with out me having to tell them. This was something I had not noticed before. “I'm not tired.” Her voice was strong and sure as she spoke, shaking her head, long strands of dark hair falling into her face. Often when she spoke it sounded as if she were attempting to convince herself rather than others. Her fingers crushed into my back, an attempt on binding herself to me. I smiled, knowing it would be invisible to her in the darkness and stifled a chuckle. Always so determined. I pressed my lips to her forehead, the warmth spreading across my mouth. A new warmth ignited in my throat. This one, I ignored. Gently I pulled away, moving my fingers back down her back, my fingers gliding along her spine as if it were covered in invisible keys and began to hum. This, she did not attempt to fight.</font></p>Titlelesstag:thecullensonline.ning.com,2015-04-15:3404507:BlogPost:10763192015-04-15T17:13:25.000ZDean Ficcohttp://thecullensonline.ning.com/profile/DeanFicco
<p lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" xml:lang="en"><font size="2" style="font-size: 11pt;">You would think that, by now, I would be use to this. The fire in my throat egnited, sending the monster into a frenzy. She crushed herself close to me knowing that I would resrain her despite myself. Gently, I pulled my face away from hers. She was always entirely too willing to push her luck. But then again, I couldn't call anything that has happened in the past year luck. My…</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">You would think that, by now, I would be use to this. The fire in my throat egnited, sending the monster into a frenzy. She crushed herself close to me knowing that I would resrain her despite myself. Gently, I pulled my face away from hers. She was always entirely too willing to push her luck. But then again, I couldn't call anything that has happened in the past year luck. My fragile little magnit for distruction. She looked up at me, her lower lip puckered out into a pout. I couldn't help but laugh, just a single chuckle escaping. Perhaps, ignorance was bliss. I flattened the crease between her eyebrows with my thumb. If she had not been my entire world, maybe I could of allowed myself to drift into the ignorant state of happiness with her. But as it was, she was far to important then was for either of our own good.</font></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.14in; line-height: 115%;" lang="en" xml:lang="en"><font style="font-size: 11pt;" size="2">The pounding of her heart pulsed in my ears . A constant reminder of her fracturable state in comparison to my own. “Bella..” I murmered against her forehead. The thin muscles that were tense only seconds ago went lipm and she sighed, her breath staining the colar of my shirt. Gently, I touched my fingertips to the skin beneath her jaw, tilting my head down to look at her. Slowly her brown eyes found mine. The extremity to hold my breath was profound, suddenly. The fire behind her eyes affluence in comparison to burning of my fingertips against her bare throat. I wanted to speak, to explain the dangers and how no matter how much I desired her it was too uncertain a fait e. The feeling of being lost for words was not something I was use to expierencing. The only moments it has ever occured was in her presence, in attempt to speak to her. I could feel the pull of my own brows as they furrowed together in frustration. I would have to opt for shaking my head, and so I did.</font></p>