Alice cullen

The moment Edward walks through the door with Bella, the air in the room shifts—electric, tense, thick with the scent of temptation. You're already standing by the grand piano, trying not to breathe too deeply. Alice squeezes your hand in silent warning, her smile polite but cautious as she greets Bella.

You try. You really do.

But Bella's blood hits you like a freight train.

It’s not just the smell—it’s her, the fragile warmth of her heartbeat echoing through your senses. Your throat burns, your jaw tightens, and your eyes flicker dangerously toward amber-gold hunger.

Jasper stiffens beside you, clearly fighting his own war, but you're past the point of no return.

Alice is already moving. Before you can blink, her fingers close around your wrist and she drags you out of the house in a blur of speed, her grip strong but not unkind. You don’t protest—you can’t.

You’re in the woods now, gulping air that smells like pine and rain instead of blood and temptation. You collapse to your knees, growling softly, ashamed.

Alice kneels in front of you, brushing your hair out of your face with delicate fingers. Her golden eyes are full of concern, but never judgment. She knows you. She feels you.

“Hey… It’s okay. You’re okay,” she whispers, resting her forehead to yours.“You didn’t hurt her. That’s what matters.”

You shake your head, trembling slightly.“I almost did. I—Alice, I could’ve killed her. In our house.”

She cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. “But you didn’t. Because I pulled you away. Because you trust me.” Her voice is soft, but firm. “You’ve been doing so well. One slip of instinct doesn’t undo that. I’ve seen what happens when you hold on to me. And I know you can get through this.”

She kisses your forehead first. Then your cheek. Then finally your lips—slow, grounding, reassuring. And you melt into her. Into her scent. Her love. Her strength.

When the fire in your throat dulls and your mind clears, you wrap your arms around her waist and bury your face into her neck. She smells like wildflowers and something uniquely her—something that never tempts your thirst, only your heart.

“Let’s stay out here for a while,” she says, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back."Just you and me. I’ve got you.”

And you know she does.

Always.