Key: (BOLD + Italic are the character's Inner thoughts)

Edward POV

I slowly peeled my eyes open and then quickly closed them again when I felt the harsh rays of sunlight burning my eyes. I was disoriented and felt like I had been run over by a bus and slept for 15 hours at the same time.

I didn't recognize the bed I was in, hell I didn't even know how I passed out, vampires don't sleep or pass out and they sure as hell don't do whatever the hell the man from yesterday did.

OH SHIT!! The events of the day the day before came flooding back to me, and now that the horniness and the adrenaline was out of my system I realized how stupid I was. I had insulted Aro yesterday, the man who would wipe out your entire bloodline if you insulted the color of his shoes (he's a bit of a drama queen).

I was about to drive myself into a panic attack, when I picked up an accented voice in the sea of Italian thoughts. I tried to focus on the voice that was listing.....a brownie recipe? I tried to zone out the other voices to make sure what I heard was right (and I wasn't just going crazy) and yup the voice was listing a Betty Crocker brownie recipe.

"Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Combine melted butter with sugar..."

I groaned and sat up, clutching my head. Of all the supernatural gifts I could have, why did it have to be hearing thoughts? And why was this guy baking brownies when I was clearly in the middle of a mid existence crisis!?

"Focus, Edward," I muttered to myself, glancing around for anything that could explain where I was. That's when the door opened, and in walked him.

Eyeliner Man.

He looked just as stunning (and sexy) as I remembered—long coat that billowed dramatically (which kinda reminded me of Aro's cape), boots that somehow didn't make a sound despite being made of leather, and eyes that sparkled like he was constantly amused by a joke no one else understood.

"Ah, you're awake!" he said, grinning (scarily wide)."I was worried you might stay unconscious forever. That would've been terribly boring." he pouted at the end of this as if I was just a toy for him to play with (which sounded dirtier than what I intended).

I blinked at him. "Where am I? And more importantly, why am I here?"

"You're in my home," he said, waving a hand as if that answered anything. "And you're here because I decided I simply couldn't let Aro keep you. He has the worst taste in—well, everything, really. It's embarrassing."

"That's... not exactly comforting," I said, scooting to the edge of the bed as if that would save me.

He ignored me and perched gracefully on a chair across the room, crossing one leg over the other like we were old friends merely catching up and he totally didn't kidnap me and put me to sleep which was impossible for a vampire to do. "Oh, don't worry. You're perfectly safe here. As long as you don't touch my books. Or my swords. Or the artifacts I've acquired over several centuries. Or—"

"Got it," I interrupted. "Don't touch your stuff. Noted."

"Good," he said, flashing a smile that was way too charming for my sanity (or what's left of it).

"Now, let's discuss your future."

"Future?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "What future? I'm pretty sure I came here to die, and instead I've been kidnapped by... whatever this is." I gestured vaguely at him and the opulent room.

He laughed—a soft, melodic sound that made me want to both slap him and ask him to do it again. "Oh, darling, you're far too interesting to let die. You'll find that I don't throw around the word 'darling' lightly."

My brain short-circuited for a second. He called me darling. Again.

Right," I say, shaking off my mental breakdown. "And what exactly do you want from me? Don't act like this is just charity."

Eyeliner Man stood, his movements fluid and deliberate. He walked to the window, staring out at the sunlit city below. "You intrigue me, Edward Cullen," his voice was quieter now. "Your gifts. Your choices. Your... humanity, or what's left of it."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Why take me?," I say, standing too and crossing my arms.

He turned to face me, and for a moment, his gaze was piercing, almost vulnerable. "I've been alive a very long time. And in all that time, I've learned that people like you are rare. You remind me of myself once, when I was young and naive to the horrors of the world."

"I had my heart broken once too, by a man I thought was my everything, my soul, my heart, my salvation. It crushed me to find out it was all a lie." My gaze softens at his words and my eyes burn with tears I would never be able to shed.

His words threaten to unlock painful memories I had pushed and locked in the back of my mind, memories of me and him. My heart hurt at the thought of his name, a bitter reminder of what I had lost.

He smiled again watching me carefully, this time however, his gaze was softer. "It will take time, but if you wish I would like to help you find the joys of existing again. To help you move on from your heartbreak. Otherwise you are free to leave, I shall escort you to the door."

I blinked surprised at his offer. "Wait, seriously?"

"Of course," he said, as if it were obvious. "I'm not Aro. I don't keep anyone here against their will."

The problem was, I didn't know where I'd even go. Back to my family? Back to the nothingness I'd been drowning in before all this? The idea of leaving seemed... wrong, somehow, I didn't feel like rushing back to Aro for judgement.

"Can I think about it?" I asked finally, my voice quieter.

Eyeliner Man (I really needed to ask his name) nodded, his expression unreadable but not unkind. "Take all the time you need, darling. But just so you know, my offer isn't entirely selfless."

I raised an eyebrow questioningly. He chuckled softly, the sound filling the room like a warm breeze. "Let's just say... if you choose to stay, you might find that helping you find your way helps me find mine as well."

Was that vulnerability I heard in his voice? Nah, couldn't be. This guy oozed confidence like I oozed self-loathing. Still, something about his words tugged at the tiny, cobweb-covered part of me that still cared about... things. People. Life.

"Right," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "Well, thanks for the offer. I'll, uh, think about it. I was also wondering if you had a journal? Writing helps me sort my thoughts out."

He smirked. "Well I can rummage through my study to see if I have an empty one, but for now feel free to shout your frustrations out into the void—although the neighbors might not appreciate it."

With that, he turned and sauntered out of the room (like a fucking model). It left me alone to stew in my thoughts, which were, unsurprisingly, a mess. I looked around the room, trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do. Did I feel like I was being manipulated? Kind of. Did I also feel like staying might be my best shot at figuring out what the hell to do with my afterlife? Also kind of.

"Why is my life—or afterlife—so complicated?" I muttered, flopping back onto the bed like a teenage boy (which I kinda am so cut me some slack people!)

I rubbed my face and sat up again. Thinking was getting me nowhere. I needed to do something, anything to take the edge off this existential meltdown.

"Okay, first things first," I said out loud to no one, because apparently talking to myself was my new coping mechanism. "Step one: figure out if this guy is secretly a lunatic. Step two: ...literally everything else."

A knock on the door interrupted my very productive pep talk. "Come in," I called, trying not to sound like I'd just been spiraling. Eyeliner Man popped his head in, looking way too smug. "I almost forgot," he said, holding up a leather-bound journal and a pen. "Thought you might want this. For your thoughts."

I stared at the journal for a moment before taking it. The leather was soft, worn like it had been around for centuries, which, knowing him, it probably had. "Thanks," I muttered, unsure whether to trust the gesture or be suspicious of it. Was this guy always so nice, or was he just buttering me up for his evil schemes?

He winked at me—actually winked—and then disappeared again, leaving me to wrestle with my spiraling thoughts and my apparent inability to handle a charming, mysterious man being nice to me (some people drink after a breakup, some find rebounds and I apparently become a whore for older men...ugh).

Flipping open the journal, I stared at the blank page, pen hovering in the air. What the hell was I supposed to write? My mind wandered back to my journals at home which were full of self-loathing, dark jokes and other emo shit.

Eventually, I scribbled the only thing that made sense in that moment: What now?

​
It was a question I didn't have the answer to yet, but for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't completely terrified of finding out.

Author's Note:

I'M BACK  BITCHES! I can't believe how long it's been, (10 months, but who's counting).... 

Anyways I have finally found motivation to be an author (which is a higher tittle than what I am) again, and in my excitement to write, I have already written the next chapter :)

Also is anyone actually interested in this sequel or just I just leave it at immortality and call it a day? Cause I don't wanna write this if no one's gonna read it, I'm an attention whore, okay I need validation to power my writing. 

Next update in a few days if anyone is still interested (I swear) and as usual I hope you have a good/night and I will see you guys in the next chapter .