Still In Bloom ↠ Twilight ✓

27 ; chicken soup on a tropical island

Here's the thing: Wallace could stay in Rio forever. 

With the crystal skies, sunlight warmed water and sticky moonlit nights underneath the stars, Wallace found himself more are peace in Rio than he had ever felt in Forks. Maybe it had to do with Forks not feeling much like home anymore.

 It only seemed that it'd be fitting that something would come along to end the happiness. 

Wallace startled awake to the sound of Bella's retching. His heart hammering inside of his chest as he sat upwards, heart heaving in his chest. Once he understood the origin of the sound, Wallace pushed the covers from his bed and made his way towards the bathroom, only to see that Edward was there. 

The vampire was holding brown strands of hair away from Bella's face as she coughed before wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, her pale legs shaking as she stood in nothing but a pair of sleep shorts. Even from a distance, Wallace could see the worry on Edward's face, etched there like a name on an epitaph. 

Wallace didn't know much about Edward's past before he had met Carlisle, but with the few times that Bella had mentioned it, Wallace was well aware that Edward's anxiety always ramped up whenever those closest to him showcased any type of illness. Not that Edward had to worry about any of his siblings, Esme, or Carlisle getting sick, but the fact that Wallace and Bella were susceptible to the occasional cold made the male nervous.  

"Does she need anything?" Wallace asked, aware that his voice was groggy from sleep. 

Edward looked at Bella and Wallace saw her shake her head. Edward just relayed the message, looking at Wallace from his place beside Bella and shaking his head. Wallace sighed softly, watching as Bella awkwardly shuffled around, revealing the visible pallor of her skin as she rubbed at her eyes. 

Once she was in bed, Bella tucked herself into the covers. Edward sliding into space beside her, and wrapping a secure arm around her midsection. Wallace studied them for a moment before he glanced at the clock on the side table. It was a quarter past eight and despite it being early, Wallace couldn't find it in himself to go back to bed.

Sneaking from the bedroom, even though he knew Edward could follow his heartbeat, Wallace made it to the kitchen. He studied the white furnishings of the cabinets, and then made his way towards a sterling silver fridge. Once he had it opened, Wallace studied the ingredients while scratching at a mole on his bare chest, yawning faintly to himself before grabbing the celery and carrots. 

For a moment as Wallace made his way to the pantry, grabbing the chicken stock and a box of noodles, he was reminded of the time that he had been sick and his mom had nursed him back to health. 

"Then you cut the chicken into little cubes," His mother intoned, narrating her actions as she slid a clump of pink chicken off the cutting board and into the awaiting pot of chicken stock.

Wallace, stationed on the counter by the stove, knocked his heel against the cabinets. He was chewing on a small bowl of cashews, a small sick-day snack that wouldn't ruin his dinner or upset his stomach. At six Wallace hadn't ever truly been very sick before enough to stay home, and despite his naturally surly disposition, was secretly pleased to have his mom's attention.

"This is your Gram-Gram's secret chicken noodle recipe," His mother cooed, sticking a ladle into the soup and stirring it around. She glanced at Wallace with dark blue eyes, eyelashes fanning her face and accenting the mole on the corner of her eyelid as she gave him a nostalgic smile.

Wallace, even at six, knew that his mom was sad every time she thought of her mom. The one mom that said she hadn't wanted to see Wallace's mom anymore when Daniel was born. So, in order to cheer her up, Wallace gave his mom a tiny smile, revealing his crooked front teeth.