These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and power,Which, as they kiss, consume.Romeo and Juliet Act Ⅱ, Scene Ⅵ PARTYI was Ninety nine point nine percent sure I was dreaming. Edwerd. Even though I was always thrilled to see him-conscious or otherwise-and even though I was almost positive that I was dreaming,And I was looking at my Grandma Marie. What was she doing here in my dream? What had she been up to in the past six year? I panicked as Grand didn’t know that I was in love with a vampire-nobody knew that-so how was I supposed to explain the fact that the –brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousand rainbow shards like he was made of crustal or diamond? Gran’s expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly, as if waiting for a scolding. I raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Edwerd’s waist and reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it . But where out fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass…There was no Gran.That was me. Me in a mirror. Me-ancient, creased, and withered .Edwerd stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.He pressed his ice, perfect lips against my wasted cheek“ Happy birthday “ He whispered. I was officially eighteen years old. I’d been dreading this day for months. All through the perfect summer-the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer anyone anywhere had ever had, and , the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic Peninsula-this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring. And now that it had hit, it was even worse than I’d feared it would be. I could feel it-I was older. Every day I got older, bit this was different, worse, quantifiable.
뉴문 Part 1
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and power,
Which, as they kiss, consume.
Romeo and Juliet Act Ⅱ, Scene Ⅵ
PARTY
I was Ninety nine point nine percent sure I was dreaming.
Edwerd. Even though I was always thrilled to see him-conscious or otherwise-and even though
I was almost positive that I was dreaming,
And I was looking at my Grandma Marie. What was she doing here in my dream? What had
she been up to in the past six year?
I panicked as Grand didn’t know that I was in love with a vampire-nobody knew that-so how
was I supposed to explain the fact that the –brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into
a thousand rainbow shards like he was made of crustal or diamond?
Gran’s expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly,
as if waiting for a scolding. I raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Edwerd’s waist and
reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it . But where out
fingers should have met, there was nothing but cold glass…There was no Gran.
That was me. Me in a mirror. Me-ancient, creased, and withered .
Edwerd stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.
He pressed his ice, perfect lips against my wasted cheek
“ Happy birthday “ He whispered.
I was officially eighteen years old. I’d been dreading this day for months.
All through the perfect summer-the happiest summer I had ever had, the happiest summer
anyone anywhere had ever had, and , the rainiest summer in the history of the Olympic
Peninsula-this bleak date had lurked in ambush, waiting to spring. And now that it had hit,
it was even worse than I’d feared it would be.
I could feel it-I was older. Every day I got older, bit this was different, worse, quantifiable.