Tumblr pic inspiration from Vican (you can find the photos on my author's page)
Characters: Edward & Bella
Beta'd by Shalu and Ninapolitan
Rating: M (for language)
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SMeyer
It's the first day of check-in to the dorms at the small, private college on the East Coast that Edward Cullen attended when he wished he was anywherebut there. His best friend and roommate had been kicked out at the end of the last school year, and Edward was not in the mood to act cheerful amidst the surge of happily returning students, acting like nothing happened. He was extremely irritated that James' position was quickly given away as if his last few years of carving new ground with paint and canvas never happened. No one seemed to care that what he had been doing was amazing work.
Fucking assholes and their God damn money, thinking they could dictate what art should be when they've never picked up a brush a day in their life.
Most of the students would only want to know why James was not coming back and inundate him with a stream of annoying questions. He didn't want to face any of thosepeople yet.
Fucking leeches with no soul.
Edward stormed out of his dorm room, unable to take the continuing laughter, and headed for his car. He needed a drive on the back roads, where none of the cops would hassle him. He needed to feel the wind sailing past him, giving him the feeling of flying, far, far away from this school that was quickly turning into another circle of hell.
Bertha would have to be his sanctuary now that James was gone. She understood him with a mere touch on the wheel, giving him the ability to transcend to another realm. She started up quickly, giving a roar in greeting to his foot on her pedal, agreeing with his need to fly.
As he backed out and drove through the parking lot towards the exit, he noticed that James' parking space was now occupied by his successor. He thought about continuing onto the road, but he withheld, knowing this may be his last chance to get a good look at who his competition was going to be…and felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
All the violent resentment that he had built in his head about the new student coming to take his best friend's place in one of the country's most prestigious fine arts programs, died.
Covered in clothes that had seen better days, she swung a green bag onto her shoulder before shutting the passenger door of her Mini. She wasn't typical of the girls of the area, but there was something inviting about the pale curve of her shoulder and the swirl of warm sepia hair floating around her delicate features that sparked his artistic interest.
The familiar twinge he got in his right hand when he was ready to start another painting clawed up his arm like mad, demanding he turn the car around and walk- no, run, for his studio to try to capture some semblance of her essence. The last time he had this severe of a need to put brush to canvas was, well…never.
Who was this girl?