violent delights.

03. was it really luck?

I didn't know what to expect from Edward as I readied for our next encounter, seeing that he seemed a bit frustrated with the last question I'd asked him. I couldn't help but blame myself for his behavior, wondering if perhaps I'd just kept the personal questions to myself, then maybe he wouldn't have left so abruptly. No. It wasn't my fault. How could it? It was only a simple question. But why did I feel the need to console him as if I was in the wrong? Why did I feel such a pull towards Edward Cullen?

I clenched my wheel, focusing more on the road rather than my invading thoughts. The road was a bit slippery from the snowfall from yesterday, so I was being extra careful on the road leading towards school. I had less of a struggle thanks to the snow chains my dad installed, but I'd rather put my thoughts away for now as a precaution.

Before getting out of my car, I looked to my left. Edward . He was standing by his silver Volvo with the company of his siblings. He glanced over at me, almost with a look of frustration and then continued a conversation with his darker haired sibling.

Not spotting any of my friends thus far, I unzipped the small pocket of my backpack and pulled out my wired headphones. Putting the buds into my ear, I let Paramore's "Decode" flood into my ears as I exited my car.

In the middle of the song, an odd sound appeared in my rearview, only for me to take out a bud to hear a high-pitched screech that became painfully loud.

I look up to see a van hurtling towards me. I couldn't move. Nothing seemed to be slowing down like it did in the films and I knew, within mere seconds, I would be crushed immediately.

Before I could close my eyes to brace the impact, Edward was in front of me, holding me, holding the car back with just one hand.

Now everything felt slow. I felt his cold hand burning my waist, my head throbbing from impact from my window, his eyes burning into my own, his gaze no longer filled with frustration, but fear, and perhaps worry? I studied his features once again, not a single flaw. His skin replicated glass, his eyes, almost glowing, and his lips as blushed as my own cheeks.

I looked down to his hand as it pushed the van, a large dent being left in place.

No words could leave my lips, only useless stutters.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Edward breathed out.

"Uh," I sighed, "I think so?" I didn't feel any other pain other than the one at the back of my head, which was better than being crushed to death.

I tried to stand, to which Edward released, but with my dazed state, I topple over, just for Edward to place a tighter grip around my waist.

"I think you hit your head pretty hard, Y/N."

Before I could respond, everyone was swarming around the car. Yelling out multiple ARE YOU OKAY?, WHAT HAPPENED?, and ARE YOU HURT?'s, and even Tyler peeked out his van, blood on his forehead, apologizing over and over.

I could see Edward's family in the back holding no expression of concern, but rather a look of disapproval, maybe even anger, but perhaps I'd read them wrong.

Amidst the chaos, six EMTs and two teachers were finally able to shift the van away from Edward and I, but how did Edward–? I shook it off for the time being, blaming adrenaline.

I saw two stretchers being brought in. Edward was able to refuse his, but as I tried to do the same, he'd told them I hit my head, traitor. This resulted in the EMT's forcing a neck brace onto me whilst they carried me onto a stretcher and wheeling me into the back of the ambulance. I've never felt more embarrassed, especially since I was fine, mostly.