𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍, aro volturi ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

┏━━━━⋆｡‧˚ʚ ❀ ɞ˚‧｡⋆━━━━┓

ITALY: TAKE TWO

BILLIE WAS HAVING A SEVERE CASE OF IMPOSTER SYNDROME.

Here she was, back in Italy for a second time, standing before a dozen vampires with regal attire that were quite literally thousands of years older than she was. She was like the new kid on the block, especially with her mind still clouded in a thick haze of disorder.

Billie didn't feel like herself, not one bit— and honestly, that was way scarier than waking up as a creature of the night.

The way Aro looked at her as though she was the literal sun helped, of course it did, especially when she could feel the full effects of their... bond, now. She wondered what it was like for him, to see her all those months ago when she didn't reciprocate any feelings at all, but the memories she uncovered that she and Aro shared provided her with useful glimpses of the before.

Though, the minute she'd seen him in the throne room this time around, she indeed felt this electric pull towards him. The thought of feeling this connected to another being was both exhilarating and frightening at the same time.

But boy, did it feel real. 

And she had zero fucking clue what she was going to do now.

A hand on her should pulled her from her train of thought, and she'd realized that everyone had left at some point. It was just the two of them, and the room suddenly felt significantly smaller. He was looking at her expectantly, as if he knew she had a million questions on her mind— and she did.

She would've thrown up if it still could. "I'm a vampire now."

"Yes, that's right."

"Are you gonna send me back?" she asked tensely, and though the location she was implying to be sent to was unknown to her, she knew she had to have come from somewhere— and in that somewhere, she was sure people were expecting her.

She was starving, to put it lightly, and the last thing she wanted to do was harm anyone. Vampires were killers, weren't they? Billie was not a killer, she wouldn't kill anyone back home.

Shit, where even was home?

Aro's gentle gaze hardened for a split second before it was gone entirely. "You are a newborn, Billie. You require a certain level of attentiveness that I fear you will not receive elsewhere," he explained to her, and she found herself nodding along. "They've condemned you to this life, and it is now my duty to keep you safe. Should you accept, of course."

They, being the other figures in her memories with him, surely. But underlying message was still clear to her: Billie was not some sort of prisoner here, and she could leave if she so pleased. However, he made it sound so unpleasant— why would she ever return to those who caused her death? She had dreams, did she not?

Why was everything so confusing now?

Yet, as much as Billie wanted to crawl out of her own skin, she couldn't deny the fact that a very real part of her wanted to physically glue herself to his very side. She wanted to be deep within his space that smelt of smokey incense and patchouli. She needed it, needed to be wrapped in it wholly.