SM owns Twilight. I'm just twisting her characters.

To the observer nothing seems out of place. There is music, merriment, dancing, flirting.

The untrained eye wouldn't spot the blond man standing outside the French doors, bathed in seasoned ennui.

His back to the ballroom, he seems to look for something. Anything.

Finding nothing, he moves back towards the crowd. "Might as well mingle", he thinks.

Suddenly, a cacophony of blinding color,sound, taste.

His weary lips form the one word he never thought to pronounce again...