S E V E N

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Eleanor Martin's POV

The next morning, I awake in my bed sweating up a storm with no recollection at all of what happened last night. I groan and roughly shove the blankets off of my body only to realize that the air is almost as hot.

Stripping off the soaked clothes as I go, I approach the thermostat, seeing that it is nearly 80 degrees in here. I turn it down to a more comfortable 72 and go into the bathroom, desperately needing a cool shower.

"Christ on a stick," I mutter grumpily under my breath. "It's hotter than Hades in here. Drunk Eleanor is the worst."

I get into the shower, washing off the feeling of sticky sweat on my body, finally beginning to cool down. I take time to assess the rest of my situation, celebrating when I realize that I'm not hungover. What a blessing. I do have a sore throat though, and my stomach hurts in a way that tells me that I'm actually sick, not from the alcohol.

I decide that if I don't feel better by this afternoon, I'll go to the doctor's to be checked up on. I quickly get ready for the day, dressing warmly and putting on a small amount of makeup, brushing through my shoulder-length hair.

After laying around and feeling awful most of the day, I stop by the hospital, going into prompt care and filling out the required paperwork to be seen here. I get in and am seen by a kind man named Dr. Phillips. He gives me a prescription after I have tested positively for strep throat, but the pain has gone down quite a bit since this morning. With the prescription in my hand, I walk out into the hallway, approaching the front desk to see if there's anything I needed to follow up on.

I sign a few more things and settle up with insurance before turning towards the door. I hesitate before deciding to walk down the hallway towards Dr. Cullen's office, wondering if he was in today. I hesitate with my fist raised, ready to knock on his door.

"There was no harm done, Edward," I hear Carlisle's voice faintly through the wooden door and I feel as though I am intruding, so I start to back away until the next sentences catch my ears. "What should I have done? Left her in the cold to freeze to death? All I did was carry her inside turned the heat up and put her in bed. She didn't even wake up, so there's no way that she'd ever question it," my eyes slowly widen at his words. Surely he didn't mean me, but it would explain how I woke up with the thermostat blazingly hot and the bottle of whiskey still out on the deck table outside. "I hear someone, I'll have to call you back later. Bye."

I scramble, trying to figure out what to do. I quickly knock, so I won't just be standing here when he opens the door without notifying him to some capacity.

"I'm sorry, I honestly didn't mean to overhear your conversation," I ramble, trembling slightly when the door opens to reveal him. "It's just that... I didn't... I'm sorry."

I turn and begin quickly moving down the hallway, glancing back to see Carlisle standing next to his office door before turning around, running straight into someone's chest. I stagger back, about to apologize until I look up and see that Carlisle himself is the one I bumped into.

"Eleanor, can you please come into my office to talk about this?" He says, and I feel the panic that I've consistently felt around him rise like a tidal wave.

"My God," I begin to hyperventilate, looking back to see his office doorway now empty. "Please, I didn't mean to hear anything."

"Don't be afraid," He tells me, but his words make me even more uneasy. "I'll explain everything. I promise."

Before I can even think, my legs are following him as he walks into the room, his gentle grip on my wrist cold even through the material of my dark green sweater.

"You were in my house?!" I demand, trying to keep my voice down despite the rapid beating of my heart. "Forget that, how did you get from 10 feet behind me to right in front of me in less than a second?"

"Eleanor, please calm down," Carlisle attempts to placate me. "You're in no danger."

"Then why am I terrified every time I see you? Why do you make me feel threatened? Why do you feel like a predator?" I demand, pacing around the small space. "And now you've dragged me into your office against my will, so I deserve some answers!"

"I didn't want you to find out like this," he sighs, and I feel bad for a split second before I remember what is happening. "But I have to tell you now, don't I?" when I remain silent at his rhetorical question, he continues. "My family and I... We're not normal... We're not humans."

"What?"

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