Following the car crash, Jasper had confined Edward to the bed in his room for nearly two full days. Sure it was fun ordering his friend around and milking his injuries to all they were worth, but lying there and not doing anything was driving Edward absolutely insane.
When Rikku had told him about her Lamborghini, Edward hadn't thought that she would actually agree to rescue him from his prison. The fact that she had agreed and that Jasper hadn't, as of yet, somehow physically restrained him, improved his mood past the dismal gloom that it had been hovering around since the accident.
He saw the flash of yellow just outside of his window and begin the slow, hobbling ascent through his apartment. Jasper had given him a warning to try not to die this time before heading off somewhere. His mind had been suspiciously void of thoughts of just what he was going to do, which, of course, made Edward that much more suspicious. But the promise of speed and chocolate was too distracting for him to focus on Jasper's mysterious whereabouts
( ... )
As soon as the building's door swept open, she let her eyes drift from a gawking black-haired man towards the rusty haired teenager emerging from the monolith of concrete and steel and glass. She cocked an eyebrow as he moved towards her; even though he looked about ready to fall over, she couldn't deny that he was attractive, ridiculously so. The mechanic uncrossed her arms and lightly pushed herself away from the vehicle, deciding to play this by ear; she knew that beauty was only skin deep most times, but it was pretty damn hard not to think that he was probably appealing all over
( ... )
Edward's eyes flickered back and forth between Rikku and the car. Rikku was eye-catching in her unique apparel--certainly nothing seen commonly on the streets of Reggio Calabria. And while Edward had made a mental note of, perhaps, how uncomfortable he should be at the amount of skin she was displaying, the fact that there was a beautiful, sleek, fast sports car just waiting for them behind her distracted him more than sufficiently.
Still, it wasn't as though he couldn't hear her thoughts as they slid through her mind. Some of them were fairly common for anyone just meeting him--comments on his appearance especially. But then there were the more unfamiliar thoughts. Her notice of just how battered he looked--although he had to wonder, did he really look that bad? Even after replenishing the blood he lost? This was getting ridiculous--and, the especially intriguing ones, the customs that were so unfamiliar to him, but that she thought of with such ease
( ... )
Noticing details was what she had been raised to do, and seeing his gaze shift from her to the car and back again, over and over, gave her the slight satisfaction of smugness before she focused her attention back on him as a person. She had taken the liberty, on her way over, of calling up some contacts as she simultaneously chatted with Edward over the network. There was little to be learned about him, but it was enough; he was a member of the Antimafia Commission, and roomed with his brother, Jasper, also an AMC member. Both were orphans, and had some connection to a Carlisle Cullen, though she'd had neither the time nor inclination to ask about him, too. Most of what she'd learned was common knowledge, anyways
( ... )
Edward's distraction by the car was suddenly disrupted by Rikku's stream of thoughts. He could hear her thoughts in his mind and he could hear his name repeated once or twice, as well as Jasper's once, but other than those two familiar names, there wasn't a single word he could understand. Whether intentionally or not, the girl had begun to think in another language--one Edward had neither heard nor learned, as diverse in knowledge as he was.
It was, to put it lightly, incredibly frustrating. On the one hand, it was nice to not have to pick his way through another person's thoughts with every sentence they spoke, but, on the other, it was incredibly hindering. Edward was so used to reading other people through their thoughts--it was how he judged them, got to know them, and how he picked their lies from their truths. There were nearly no occasions when he couldn't rely on his ability to help him with his interactions. He hadn't anticipated this obstacle, and with someone he had just met
( ... )
The blonde girl was already inside the car, feet resting lightly against the pedals. She pondered his question for a moment, waiting until she figured he was within hearing distance before answering. "A place a few hours out of here," she answered vaguely, trying not to concentrate too hard on the images of the true Home burning to the ground after the attack, its protective walls reduced to crumbling rock and shattered metal. She had seen enough of that two years ago, and banished the mental picture. Reggio Calabria was her home now, or as close as she'd ever have again. "A big city seemed appropriate after being raised as a small-town girl." Her lips flashed to a rueful grin as she thought of how Home had indeed been less than an eight of the size of this city; all of the Al Bhed had been banished there, every single one of them. It was a miracle that they hadn't been killed by disease or something of the sort before the order to wipe them out had been given
( ... )
When Rikku had told him about her Lamborghini, Edward hadn't thought that she would actually agree to rescue him from his prison. The fact that she had agreed and that Jasper hadn't, as of yet, somehow physically restrained him, improved his mood past the dismal gloom that it had been hovering around since the accident.
He saw the flash of yellow just outside of his window and begin the slow, hobbling ascent through his apartment. Jasper had given him a warning to try not to die this time before heading off somewhere. His mind had been suspiciously void of thoughts of just what he was going to do, which, of course, made Edward that much more suspicious. But the promise of speed and chocolate was too distracting for him to focus on Jasper's mysterious whereabouts ( ... )
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Still, it wasn't as though he couldn't hear her thoughts as they slid through her mind. Some of them were fairly common for anyone just meeting him--comments on his appearance especially. But then there were the more unfamiliar thoughts. Her notice of just how battered he looked--although he had to wonder, did he really look that bad? Even after replenishing the blood he lost? This was getting ridiculous--and, the especially intriguing ones, the customs that were so unfamiliar to him, but that she thought of with such ease ( ... )
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It was, to put it lightly, incredibly frustrating. On the one hand, it was nice to not have to pick his way through another person's thoughts with every sentence they spoke, but, on the other, it was incredibly hindering. Edward was so used to reading other people through their thoughts--it was how he judged them, got to know them, and how he picked their lies from their truths. There were nearly no occasions when he couldn't rely on his ability to help him with his interactions. He hadn't anticipated this obstacle, and with someone he had just met ( ... )
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