try to slip past his defense without granting innocence

[autophoenix]

A couple weeks had passed quietly for Claire since her less-than-venomous conversation with Edward. Between studying, juggling Jessica and Mike and the drama between them, and dealing with the secret that continued to grow increasingly complicated to keep, it was mostly a blur. A really unpleasant, cold and rainy blur

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[likealocalgod]

It had been common for Edward to consider his hours spent in a high school classroom, relearning the same concepts he had mastered decades ago, mouthing answers that required no thinking whatsoever, to be akin to Purgatory. A long string of days with no conceivable end in sight, where nothing changed, there was no growth, there was no anything, but the sameness that he had come to find so endlessly grating. He had almost wished, on occasions, that he might be able to actually ever aspire to reaching a day of judgment, even if it meant being cast into Hell fires.

He no longer found such thoughts amusing.

Not now that he had actually found himself in that very position - torn out of his routine and thrust into a neverending sequence of daily torments. Every day, the despair was renewed, every day his resolve tested again, and every day, he had to bare it with a fake smile, as he attempted to unravel the mystery that was Claire Butler.

His family probably thought he had lost it entirely, given exactly how often he went hunting now. Before school, after school, whenever he had a moment to refill himself, to try and wipe away the sensations of hunger from his memory, as if hoping this would help strengthen him against the next way of temptation.

It never did.

It was a continuous series of failures, from which he refused to learn. Perhaps, he thought wryly, his family might be on to something, therefore, in doubting his sanity. Wasn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?

Carlisle attempted to empathize, but he could only go so far. Unlike Edward, he couldn't reach into his thoughts and realize what he was going through. He could only offer empty sympathy and counsel, and none of those things did much good whenever a spare wind through the classroom blew Claire Butler's scent into his nostrils again and made every muscle in his body seize up entirely.

He'd entertained more serious thoughts of leaving, all pretense of wanting to show that he was still master of himself flying out the window in those moments. It seemed impossible, and, as Rosalie said to him on several occasions, idiotic to push himself like this. Of course, she was largely concerned with her own interests more than his, her dreams of living a normal life there for a few more years teetering on his ability to control himself and not mess the situation up for all of them.

No, Edward thought, she was right. He could ruin this for all of them. Alice chastised him for his decision before he even realized he's already made it in his heart: that he was leaving, after this one last day. After showing himself, once again, that he could not keep this up forever. That he was going to snap if he remained so stubborn.

However, he could see his future in her mind - his plans to leave, and not allow any of them to come along - lest he ruin their lives here. It was far from the clear cut sort of images he often saw in her mind, more indistinct, like looking at the images through a murky pond. She told him it was because there was something in his life that was in a state of flux, something larger than his own decisions, even. He thought she was over-romanticizing. She simply smiled at him sadly, and he turned away, making his way to the driver's side of the car.