The night had wrapped the Olympic Forest in silence, save for the soft rustle of pine needles in the breeze and the distant hush of waves brushing the coastline. Above, the sky stretched endlessly. Nebulae streaked through the blackness as if painted by a brush, and stars blinked like ancient beings, indifferent to the world beneath them — a cosmic tapestry stretched across the sky.
Kal lay on his back in the damp grass, one arm folded beneath his head, the other wrapped securely around Alice, who was curled into the crook of his arm, her head resting gently on his chest. Her fingers traced idle circles over the fabric of his shirt, quiet and thoughtful. Kal could feel her gaze turned skyward, not mapping stars, but something far beyond astronomy.
Neither of them spoke for a while. Just the quiet of the night. Just the rhythm of their breathing.
"The stars are beautiful tonight," Alice murmured softly.
"Mhmm." He hummed in agreement, though his eyes remained fixed on her. "They are."
Now she glanced at him.
"You're not even looking," she teased, turning toward him. "I thought you said you loved looking at the stars."
"I do," he replied, brushing a hand gently along her cheek. "But I like looking at you more."
Alice made a sweet expression — one that told Kal, if there had been blood in her body, she would've been blushing. A second later, she snuggled closer, pressing her face into his chest to hide her smile.
He let out a quiet chuckle and pulled her closer, the warmth between them enough to stave off the night chill. It was several minutes before either of them spoke again, content just to be.
"So," Alice began, "you're an alien."
"Yep," Kal answered simply. "Why? Does that scare you?"
Alice laughed softly.
"I'm a vampire, remember? An alien isn't the strangest thing I've seen."
Kal gave her a sidelong look, one eyebrow raised.
"Okay, it's pretty high up there," she conceded with a grin.
After a thoughtful pause, she asked, "So… how strong are you really?"
Kal considered the question for a second.
"I don't actually know," he admitted. "I don't think I've ever struggled to lift anything. And definitely not something I knew the weight of."
Suddenly, Jor-El's voice sounded crisply in his ear.
"The estimated maximum weight you can lift, based on scans of your physique and analysis of your performance, is in excess of two thousand tonnes," Jor-El said, tone cool and precise.
"Additionally, with continued absorption of yellow sun radiation, this maximum increases daily by approximately three tonnes, until all somatic cells are fully saturated."
Kal's lips quirked. "Well, that's helpful."
"What is?" Alice asked, confused.
"Oh, I didn't mean you," he said, glancing at her. "Jor-El just told me how much he thinks I can lift."
"Jor-El? But he's not here," she said, frowning.
"I've got a communicator in my ear. We can talk any time."
Her eyes widened slightly, flicking to his ear.
"I didn't even see anything," she said, clearly impressed. "Or hear anything."
"It's too small to notice. The benefits of alien tech," Kal said with a laugh, catching her expression.
"So?" she pressed. "How strong are you, then?"
"Well, Jor-El said I can lift over two thousand tonnes."
Alice sat up in shock, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open.
"Wow," she said. "Even Emmett can only just lift eight hundred."
(A/N: Not a mistake or power-boost to vampire strength. They're meant to be able to lift thousands of times more than a human. Considering vampires' physiques become perfect upon changing, and Emmett has the body of a pro bodybuilder — deadlifting 200 kg if human would be expected. Multiply that by a couple thousand for 800 tonnes. The average is around 4-500 though, Emmett is just exceptionally strong.)
"What about speed?" she asked next, pushing for more.
Kal paused as Jor-El answered in his ear again.
"It started around 100 miles per hour. It's about 140 now," Kal relayed to her.
She smirked. "You might give Edward a run for his money."
Kal raised a brow. "He's fast?"
"One of the fastest," Alice nodded. "But you're different. Not just in how strong or fast you are, bbut in what you are."
He looked at her, curious.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… we're predators. Vampires. Everything about us is meant to attract and hunt — our speed, strength, beauty, even our scent. But you…" She traced a finger along his chest. "You don't feel like a predator. You feel like something else."
"Like what?"
She brought her hand to his face, golden eyes soft with affection.
"Like something that fell out of the sky."
Kal smiled quietly, moved by the awe and tenderness in her voice — no fear, no suspicion. Just wonder.
"And you?" he asked gently. "What's it like? Seeing the future?"
Alice exhaled and lay back beside him again, her fingers lacing with his.
"It's... complicated," she said. "I don't see everything. Just people's decisions, as they make them. If someone changes their mind, the vision changes too. It's like watching ripples in water."
"That must get overwhelming."
She gave a soft laugh.
"Sometimes. It's great for little things — knowing where people will be, what'll be on a test, which stocks to buy. But sometimes I see things I wish I didn't. Things I can't stop."
Kal turned his head toward her, voice gentle. "Is that what happened with me?"
"I saw you long before you arrived," she said. "But since then… the visions have been strange. Blurred. They still are, around you."
He frowned. "Why?"
Alice hesitated. "I think it's because you're not human. My visions work best with things I'm connected to. I see vampires most clearly, because I am one. I see humans decently, because I used to be one. But you? When I try to look at you, all I see is a blurry sun."
Kal was silent, absorbing her words. After a moment, he asked, "What about before you were a vampire?"
A shadow passed across her features.
"I don't remember much," she said quietly. "I woke up in a room with no windows. I was strapped to a table. A sanitarium, I think. Carlisle found records once — my name was Mary Alice Brandon."
Kal turned slightly, listening closely.
"I had visions even then. They were more like feelings, but they scared people. They thought I was mad. The doctors... tried to cure me."
Her jaw tensed.
"I was turned by someone trying to protect me," she said. "I never saw his face. He died before I woke up."
She didn't sound bitter. Just distant, like recalling something from a different life.
"And now?" Kal asked softly.
"Now I have a family. A future. And someone who makes the stars feel small."
He looked down at her, startled. She met his gaze without flinching.
"I don't know what you are, Kal," she said. "But I know what I feel. And I've lived long enough to know that matters."
A quiet smile touched his lips, emotion swelling in his chest.
Alice glanced up at him, studying the softness behind his eyes. After a moment, her expression shifted — brighter, playful. "Edward's inviting Bella over on Saturday. You should come too."
Kal blinked. "Wait—Bella? She's coming over?"
Alice nodded casually. "Mm-hmm. They've been dating since Tuesday."
Kal stared at her, completely thrown. "Since Tuesday?"
"Yep."
He ran a hand through his hair, blinking in surprise. "I didn't know that…"
"You didn't?" Alice tilted her head, curious. "You really didn't see them together?"
He gave a sheepish shrug. "I wouldn't know. I wasn't in on Tuesday"
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Oh right, you always skip Tuesdays. Why?"
"No biology on Tuesdays."
She paused — then blinked slowly. "So… you only come in for the days I have class."
His eyes dropped to the ground, then back to her, and he nodded once.
That stopped her. Her breath hitched ever so slightly, the teasing in her expression fading. "You came to school… just for me?"
Kal rubbed at the back of his neck, awkwardly. "You kind of made it worth showing up."
Something softened in her face — something vulnerable flickering underneath all the confidence. But before it could settle, Kal continued, trying to explain.
"And then Wednesday…" He chuckled under his breath. "I was distracted. Mostly by your family. But then…" His eyes flicked to hers. "Mostly by you."
The tension in Alice's shoulders shifted — but she looked away then, a small, unreadable smile on her lips.
"If I had so much of your attention…" she said slowly, a bitter edge slipping in, "then why did you pull away when I tried to kiss you?"
Kal's eyes widened. "Oh— no. Alice, it wasn't you."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly, waiting.
"I wasn't scared of you." His voice lowered. "I was scared of what was happening to me."
She raised an eyebrow. "What was happening?"
"I felt… a pressure. Building behind my eyes. My vision went red-hot. I couldn't see anything. It felt like my eyes were cooking."
Her head tilted. "Wait— what?"
Kal gave her a helpless look. "My powers were awakening. Heat vision. I didn't know how to control it. I panicked."
"Heat vision?" Alice questioned.
"Oh, right. I can fire heat rays from my eyes." Kal said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Alice blinked.
"You shoot lasers from your eyes?" she asked, almost bewildered.
Kal laughed.
"No, not lasers. Heat rays. Though Jor-El says if they become more powerful, and I concentrate them enough, they can become lasers. But that's beside the point, they're like blasts of heat that I can use to melt stuff, or… set things on fire."
Alice's eyes widened in realisation. "The screen burning… the fire… the evacuation…"
"That was me," Kal admitted quietly.
She stared at him in disbelief — then burst out laughing. "Oh my god. I thought someone overloaded the school grid. You almost cooked the biology lab — for a kiss?"
Kal groaned, covering his face. "Yeah. Not exactly my proudest moment."
"I can't believe that was you," she laughed again, eyes bright. "That's… actually kind of amazing."
Kal peeked through his fingers. "So… you're not mad?"
She grinned, stepping a little closer. "I forgive you. For not kissing me."
Her words were soft, but they landed like thunder. For a second, Kal couldn't breathe. The tension between them shifted — not gone, but transformed into something more fragile… and far more dangerous.
A quiet settled over them, thick as the mist curling through the trees. Neither of them moved. It was as if time had pressed pause — like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Kal could hear the faint rush of the river down the slope, the distant rustle of leaves, the slow, steady beat of his own heart growing louder in his ears. Alice's gaze met his, unblinking, searching — not playful now, not teasing, but open and raw.
The moonlight caught her features just right — silver brushing her cheekbones, starlight caught in her eyes.
Kal swallowed. "Maybe I'll get it some other time."
Alice's voice was barely a whisper. "Maybe you will."
They were close now — so close the space between them felt electric, charged with something that vibrated just beneath the skin. Kal could see the faintest shimmer of gold in her eyes, could count every individual lash, could feel the way the air between them tightened like a pulled string waiting to snap.
They leaned in slowly, uncertain at first — but it was inevitable. Their eyes closed, noses brushed, then,
Their lips met.
Warmth bloomed through Kal's chest, deep and startling and real. Her lips were soft and cool, impossibly gentle, and yet the contact set his nerves alight. The world slipped away — no trees, no wind, no stars above. Just Alice.
It wasn't fiery, or rushed, or hungry. It was soft. Slow. The kind of kiss that tasted like a promise. The kind that felt like home.
She kissed him back — not desperately, but deliberately, like she wanted him to know she meant it. Like she wasn't afraid of what he was, or what he could become.
When their lips finally parted, their foreheads rested together for a long, quiet second. Alice kept her eyes closed, as if still in the moment — unwilling to let go of the feeling just yet.
Kal's breath was shallow. His heart was thundering. He didn't dare speak, afraid it would break whatever fragile magic had just passed between them.
When they parted, Alice's forehead lingered against his, eyes still closed. Her breath trembled softly against his lips. Then, slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him.
"So…" she whispered, voice still dream and laced with something sweeter than amusement.. "Are you coming Saturday or not?"
Kal smiled. "Yeah. I'm in."
Alice's eyes lit with mischief again. "Good. Maybe you can race Edward."
Kal raised an eyebrow. "Race him?"
"Mm-hmm. We clocked him at 160 once." She grinned teasingly. "Think you can keep up?"
Kal chuckled, tilting his head. "Only if I don't have to run."
Alice blinked, amused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kal paused for a moment, then his lips curled into a grin.
"Want to see something?" he asked.
Alice arched a brow. "That depends. Is it dangerous?"
"Only if you're scared of heights."
Kal sat up, then stood, brushing the dew from his back. He extended a hand to her, and she took it — suspicious, but intrigued.
He lifted her into his arms — one beneath her knees, one supporting her back — and without warning, they began to rise.
Alice's eyes widened. She clung to him as the ground fell away, and a laugh escaped her lips as wind rushed past her face.
"You're flying," she whispered, awestruck.
"No," he said. "We are."
She pulled back slightly to look at him, her grin radiant. "This is cheating. You know that, right?"
Kal laughed. "I prefer to call it an unfair advantage."
They soared above the trees, stars glittering above them like scattered diamonds.
And for the first time in a long while — both of them felt completely weightless.
…
Kal's enhanced senses stirred first — the soft purr of a fine-tuned engine, faint and distant at first, growing louder with every second. It was a sound he knew well — the promise of something sleek, something powerful approaching.
Then, drifting on the cool morning air, the faintest trace of Alice's perfume hit him — a blend of cool rain, wildflowers, and something uniquely hers, a scent that clung to the wind and wrapped around him like a second skin.
By the time the car appeared in his driveway, Kal was already moving toward the door, anticipation humming in his veins. He swung it open just as the white BMW 330Ci E46 rolled into view, its sleek form glinting under the cloudy sky. The car slid forward smoothly, almost as if it were gliding on air, with Alice behind the wheel, her expression set in that same knowing smile he'd grown so fond of.
She parked with a fluid grace, like a dancer finishing a well-practiced pirouette — precise, effortless, and just a little dramatic. The engine purred to a quiet stop, leaving a lingering hum in the air.
The door swung open, and Alice stepped out like a vision — chic winter layers framing her lithe form, sunglasses perched playfully atop her head, sunlight caught her dark hair, the smile playing on her lips before she even stepped out. Her movement was fluid, like someone who never walked, but danced — effortless and graceful, yet bold in a way that made Kal's heart beat a little faster, despite only being separated from her for less than an hour.
She tilted her head, her eyes locking with his, and that soft smile deepened. Her steps were light but purposeful as she approached him, her eyes never leaving his face.
She glanced up at the house, a playful grin lighting up her features as she surveyed the scene.
"You live in a cottage in the woods?," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're like one of those brooding lumberjacks from romance novels. All you need is an axe and a log pile."
Kal smirked, amused but not entirely surprised by her ability to cut through the façade. "And here I thought I was going for mysterious loner."
Alice's grin widened as she approached, the warmth of her presence undeniable. "Mission failed. Maybe you'll get 'em next time. Anyway, you're my hot, brooding lumberjack"
Without another word, she tossed him the keys to the car, the gesture smooth and practiced. "You're driving. Let's give them a show."
Sliding into the driver's seat, Kal's fingers wrapped around the leather steering wheel — cool and smooth beneath his touch. It was a strange sensation, unfamiliar yet undeniably satisfying. He felt the weight of the car, the power just beneath the surface, ready to respond at his slightest command. He adjusted to the smooth hum of the engine beneath him.
Alice leaned back, watching him with open admiration, her gaze soft but full of something else — pride, perhaps, or maybe just affection.
"Look at you. My very own tall, solar-powered Steve McQueen," she said, her voice light but teasing.
Kal chuckled, glancing at her for just a second, eyes flicking from the road to the girl beside him. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Her fingers slid over his, intertwining with his in a simple, quiet gesture of connection. "Oh yeah. Let them talk," she replied, her tone confident, unbothered by the attention they'd inevitably receive.
…
The BMW's engine purred into the parking lot with authority. It was the kind of car that drew eyes immediately — sleek, sharp, and undeniably striking. But it wasn't just the car that turned heads. It was the two people in it.
As Kal stepped out, he walked around to open Alice's door with a fluid, practiced motion, his hand extending to her as she took it, stepping gracefully from the car.
When they started walking toward the school hand-in-hand, the entire parking lot seemed to freeze. Conversations faltered mid-sentence, and a silence fell over the space as students stopped what they were doing, eyes lingering on the couple as they made their way across the lot. Phones were hastily pulled out — some to snap silent pictures, others to send rapid-fire texts.
A ripple of whispers started almost immediately, spreading like wildfire.
"That's the new guy — Kal Kent? With Alice Cullen?"
"Didn't Bella just start dating Edward?"
"What's with the Cullens and the new kids all of a sudden?"
"Do the new kids come with pheromones or something?"
One kid muttered to another, "You think if I walk into the woods I'll come out with a Cullen too?"
"Keep dreaming, pal." was the only reply.
Edward watched the pair from a distance, his lips curving into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Bella beside him.
"Copycat," he said lightly, his tone filled with humor. "She stole my thunder."
His expression was one of relief as much as anything else. They weren't the only ones drawing attention — or breaking rules — anymore.
Emmett, ever the loud one, couldn't help but blurt out,
"Wait, weren't they just arguing yesterday?"
His laughter followed, loud and genuine. He seemed delighted by the twist of fate.
Rosalie, as always, watched silently. Her arms were crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her eyes were sharp and calculating, her disapproval not hidden in any way.
Jasper, his face a mask of controlled emotion, had his gaze trained on Kal, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. His eyes lingered with a quiet disapproval, but there was no hostility — just watchfulness. He nodded stiffly to Alice but didn't show any signs of happiness.
Carolyn stood further back, watching with an unreadable expression. Her gaze flicked between Alice and Kal, as if trying to solve an equation that didn't quite add up — not because she couldn't, but because she wasn't sure she liked the answer.
Still, none of them said a word to stop her.
Alice, in response, smiled a small, knowing smile, one that wasn't smug but confident in its own way. She gave Kal a quick glance, then said, "Six weeks in Forks and we're already rewriting the social order."
Kal chuckled quietly, squeezing her hand. "Guess we're trendsetters."
Some students stared in open shock — two Cullens dating outsiders, both within three days of each other? It was an unprecedented spectacle. The gossip mill, already in overdrive, went into full swing.
Even Jessica, Angela and Mike — all of them were abuzz with speculation, jealousy, and disbelief.
"Isn't she really weird though?"
"I thought they were arguing yesterday?"
"Dude, I really need to get his gym routine."
Alice leaned in close, her voice low as she spoke, her words meant just for Kal.
"You know they'll stare all day."
Kal smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "Let them. I'm exactly where I want to be."
Alice's expression softened, and she bumped her shoulder gently against his, the warmth of her gesture a silent confirmation of what they shared.
As they stepped inside, the door swung shut behind them with a soft click. Marking the start of a new chapter for both of them — one that was bound to turn more than a few heads in the days to come.
…
The road wound in lazy coils through the thick forest, sunlight struggling to pierce the clouds overhead. Forks' ever-present gloom painted the trees in muted greens and silvers, and the occasional drop of mist clung to the windshield as Kal guided the car up the incline.
Alice sat beside him, one leg tucked under her in the passenger seat, her eyes bright and far-off — like she was simultaneously living in three timelines and none of them were this exact moment.
"So," she said, her voice cheerful and breezy, "today's going to be... interesting."
Kal glanced over. "Interesting like a pleasant dinner? Or interesting like a diplomatic incident?"
She smiled, far too innocently. "Well... depends on who you talk to."
He raised a brow. "That bad?"
"Oh, no. Don't be dramatic. I'm sure Emmett's going to love you."
"That's comforting."
Alice's grin widened. "Rosalie definitely won't."
Kal groaned quietly. "Why not?"
"She doesn't like humans."
Kal gave her a sidelong look. "You know I'm not—"
"—a normal human, yeah, yeah. Trust me, that doesn't help." Alice tapped her temple with a manicured finger. "You're a blank slate to me. Can't see your future, can't guess your intentions, don't smell like a regular mortal, and you showed up out of nowhere. You're... a puzzle. And Rosalie hates puzzles."
He smirked. "Guess I'll have to win her over with charm."
Alice laughed. "Good luck with that. She still hasn't forgiven Emmett for tearing her favourite dress in 1987."
Kal blinked. "Wait, that's not a joke?"
"She's very passionate about her clothes."
He shook his head, a reluctant grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. "And the others?"
"Well..." Alice tilted her head thoughtfully. "Let's go down the list, shall we? Emmett, like I said, will probably love you. To him, you're only a threat if you can beat him in a fight — and he doesn't know you're stronger than him. He mostly disapproves because Rosalie does."
"I'm starting to get the feeling Rosalie is someone I shouldn't piss off."
Alice's laugh tinkled like a bell.
"Exactly. Rosalie. She's beautiful, brilliant, and terrifying. No powers, unless looking like a goddess counts. But don't let that fool you. She's not just a pretty face. She's one of the most strong-willed people I know. And if she thinks you're a threat to our family... well. Just hope she's in a good mood."
Kal nodded slowly, storing that away.
"Jasper's harder to read," Alice went on. "He's quiet, observant. But if you make him uncomfortable, he'll let you know."
"Does he have an ability too?"
Alice's eyes sparkled.
"Oh, yeah. Jasper can sense emotions — even vampire ones. And change them."
Kal's brows rose. "You mean like... mood swings on demand?"
"Exactly. Calm down a room full of newborns, make someone panic, even make an angry person happy — he can do it all. It's subtle, but effective. Especially because he doesn't look threatening at first glance."
"And he's a fighter?"
Alice gave a low whistle. "The best. Bar none. If you threw the whole family into a ring, only Jasper walks out standing. He's second only to Edward in speed and Emmett in strength. But his precision? Flawless. He doesn't waste motion."
Kal let that sink in. "That's... impressive."
"He trained in real wars, Kal. Civil War. Decades of it. He's seen things none of us have."
The gravity in her tone pulled a brief silence into the car.
"And Carolyn?" he asked eventually, recalling the name Alice had once mentioned with Jasper.
"She's his mate. She's newer to the family — only a couple of decades. She doesn't really fight. Her gift is... different. She can take away the pain of others — physical, emotional, spiritual. The catch is, she feels it instead. Every burn, every sorrow. She's the softest of us, maybe the kindest besides Carlisle. She'll probably be the one who welcomes you first."
"Sounds like the heart of the family."
"She is." Alice's tone warmed. "She's who we go to when the world feels too heavy."
Kal gave a low hum. "And Carlisle?"
Alice smiled fondly. "The founder. The one who made all this work. He's three centuries old, maybe more. He turned Edward, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett. Doesn't have an ability like mine or Jasper's, but that doesn't make him weak. If he had to fight, I'd put him just behind Jasper. And in terms of knowledge? He could lecture you on vampire biology, Renaissance art, and quantum theory in one breath."
Kal raised a brow. "And his wife?"
"Esme. No ability either. But if Carlisle is the brain, Esme is the soul. She made the house a home. Always smiling, always caring. But don't mistake her warmth for softness — she'd defend this family with her life."
Kal let out a low breath. "They sound... intense."
"Family tends to be."
"And Edward?"
Alice's smile sharpened, just slightly. "The fastest of us all. We've clocked him at 160 miles per hour on foot."
Kal blinked. "You clock each other?"
"You don't?"
He gave her a look. She grinned.
"And his ability?"
She dropped it like a bomb: "He can read minds."
Kal's hands twitched. The car jerked slightly as he overcorrected on the steering wheel.
Alice gave him a puzzled look. "Are you alright?"
He nodded tightly. "Just surprised."
Alice kept talking, unaware of the thunderstorm in his head. "It's not as bad as it sounds. He's learned to tune most people out — it's noisy otherwise. And if someone's actively trying not to think about something, it's usually obvious. He's respectful, though—"
But Kal wasn't listening.
Mind reading. Could Edward see everything? The system? The Trials? His past life?
Kal's thoughts screamed for clarity.
'System. Am I compromised?'
[System Response: Negative. All data related to the System, User's origin, and extracosmic information is sealed. No mind, soul, or magical ability may access this data through direct or indirect means. User is incapable of voluntarily or involuntarily disclosing such information, including if User is subject to mind control by an NPC.]
[Note: This protection does not extend to User's own thoughts or memories unrelated to the System or original universe. Mental resistance must be earned naturally or via Archetype-based progression.]
Kal exhaled. Slow. Controlled.
He was safe. For now.
Alice's voice snapped him back to reality. "Turn left — that gravel path. We're almost there."
Kal obeyed, letting the tires crunch over the narrow drive as the trees opened into a quiet clearing. Nestled among the pines was a modern home of glass and pale timber, minimalist and elegant in design. It looked like something out of an architecture magazine — sharp lines, natural light, and just enough earth tones to feel anchored.
In front of the house sat a sleek silver Volvo.
"Edward and Bella beat us here," Alice said, already unbuckling her seatbelt.
Kal stepped out and opened her door for her, staring up at the house.
"Nice place."
Alice grinned and brushed invisible lint from her coat.
"Being able to see the future is very helpful for stock trading."
Kal chuckled.
"What?" Alice asked with a playful tilt of her head, "Did you expect a gloomy castle? Or maybe a cave?"
With a laugh, they walked hand-in-hand up the smooth stone path toward the front steps.
As the door swung open the warm scent of cedar and something faintly floral wafted out.
Kal stepped into the Cullen house for the first time.
Alice stepped through with a casual grace, pausing only to kick off her shoes in a practiced motion. Kal followed her lead, leaving his boots by the door and taking a moment to glance around.
The inside of the Cullen house was striking — modern and open, yet strangely serene. Wide, panoramic windows stretched from floor to ceiling, letting in the pale afternoon light that filtered through the trees outside. Clean lines, soft neutrals, and accents of dark wood and brushed metal filled the space with a quiet sophistication. It didn't feel like a house people merely lived in. It felt curated — like a place meant to be experienced.
But underneath the elegance was something... still. Like a breath held in the dark.
Kal's eyes lingered on a framed painting, some 18th-century battlefield half-faded by age. He wondered how many of these decorations were just art — and how many were memories.
He felt the weight of unseen eyes then — a quiet presence, the way a forest goes silent before a predator moves.
"They're waiting," Alice said softly, not needing to look. "They've been waiting since we pulled into the drive."
"Thought so," Kal muttered.
"You've got this," she added, her voice lighter now as she reached back and grabbed his hand. "They're just... protective."
"Understandable," Kal replied. "But I'm not here to start anything."
"Good," she said, leading him toward a hallway that opened up into a larger room. "Because Rosalie will finish it."
Kal gave her a look.
She smiled sweetly. "Kidding. Mostly."
They moved deeper into the house, footsteps soft against polished wood floors. As they passed a tall bookcase, Kal caught the muted sound of voices ahead — low, indistinct murmurs that quieted when Alice's light tread approached.
She paused beside a set of double doors, gave Kal a quick once-over, then tilted her head toward the space beyond.
"They're in the kitchen," she said, almost conspiratorially.
The moment Kal and Alice stepped through the threshold, he felt the weight of their entrance settle across the room like snowfall on still water.
The kitchen was bright, the early afternoon sun filtering through high windows to gleam off marble countertops and polished wood. There was a faint aroma of basil and something tomato-based simmering on the stove, but the room itself was quiet — too quiet.
Bella and Edward stood near the island, clearly having arrived only moments earlier. Bella looked mildly surprised at the sound of the door, her eyes flicking between Alice and Kal with open curiosity. Edward, meanwhile, stood like a statue — cool, composed, but his attention narrowed like a hawk's. Kal didn't need x-ray vision to feel the scrutiny behind those golden eyes.
The rest of the Cullens were gathered in a semi-circle beyond the island. A salad bowl sat half-tossed, a pan of sauce steaming gently, but none of them were moving. Not even a stir. Every eye in the room was trained on him.
They'd been waiting.
Before the silence could stretch into something unbearable, a woman with caramel-colored hair stepped forward, her beauty undeniable — though it was a warmer, more maternal beauty than Alice's otherworldly grace.
"You must be Kal," she said, her voice light and inviting. The smile on her face softened the chill in the air instantly. "You're just in time — we're making Italiano for you and Bella."
Kal blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sincerity. Alice had said they'd be wary — but this woman, at least, felt genuine.
Edward spoke before he could respond. "Bella, this is Esme. My mother, for all intents and purposes."
Bella nodded quickly. "It's nice to meet you."
In the background, Emmett gave a wave — his massive frame looming over the counter — still holding a knife in one hand. A man Kal immediately pegged as Carlisle turned around at the stove, smiling kindly.
"You've given us an excuse to use the kitchen for the first time," he said, a twinkle of humor in his tone.
Esme chuckled and added, "I hope you're both hungry."
"Yeah, absolutely," Bella said, her voice a little breathless — clearly still absorbing the surreal setting.
Then Edward let out a soft sigh. "She already ate."
The words landed like a slap, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
The air snapped.
Crack.
Everyone turned toward the sound. A glass bowl lay in shattered pieces on the tile floor near Rosalie, the remnants of a salad scattered at her feet. Her posture was rigid, hands curled tight around the broken ceramic, lips pulled into a sneer.
"Perfect," she said, voice brittle with contempt, eyes boring into Bella like knives.
Kal glanced at Alice, whose expression had gone still — unreadable. Edward tensed beside Bella, clearly anticipating something.
"Yeah, it's just because I kn– I know that you guys don't eat, so…" Bella stammered, trying to explain.
"Of course," Esme said, her smile thinning slightly. "It's very considerate of you."
Kal took a slow breath. He hadn't spoken since stepping inside — letting the room size him up — but now seemed like the right moment to break the tension.
"I'll eat," he said with a shrug, stepping a bit closer. Every gaze in the room turned toward him. "Trust me, no matter how much you put in front of me, I can eat it all. I'm kinda like a black hole when it comes to food."
That actually earned a small ripple of laughter — even Emmett chuckled. Esme's face brightened immediately.
"That's wonderful, Kal," she said with a warm grin. "We'll have to put that to the test."
Bella shot him a look of quiet thanks. He gave her a brief smile in return.
"Just ignore Rosalie," Edward muttered lowly to Bella. "I do."
Rosalie turned on him, eyes glinting with fury. "Yeah, let's just keep pretending this isn't dangerous for all of us."
"I would never tell anybody anything," Bella said quickly, almost pleading.
Carlisle stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Esme's shoulder. "She knows that."
Emmett scratched the back of his neck and said, "Yeah, well, the problem is you two," he gestured to Edward and Bella, "and now you two," this time pointing at Alice and Kal, "have gone public, so—"
"Emmett," Esme said sharply, her tone cutting the air like a knife.
"No, she should know," Rosalie snapped, looking at Bella — and then turning that same cold stare on Kal. "They should both know. The entire family will be implicated if this ends badly."
"Badly as in… I'd become the meal?" Bella asked, half-joking.
There was a beat — and then, to Kal's surprise, a ripple of laughter went through the room. Even Rosalie looked like she was struggling not to smirk.
Then a new voice called out, warm and light. "Hi, guys."
Kal turned, catching sight of Carolyn stepping lightly off a branch beside the balcony, ponytail swinging as she opened the sliding door and entered the room, Jasper in tow. Her presence was calming, almost too calm, and Kal immediately picked up on how her hand never left Jasper's.
"I'm Carolyn," she said with a nod, "and this is Jasper."
"Hi," Bella offered quickly.
Kal gave a quiet nod, his posture easy but alert.
Jasper gave a strained smile and looked between them. "You just had to choose the two best-smelling humans in Washington, didn't you?" he asked, clearly trying for humor, but his jaw was tight.
Kal raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He glanced at Alice, who didn't meet his gaze.
"Sorry," Carlisle said smoothly. "Jasper's our newest vegetarian. It's a little difficult for him."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jasper added, clearly making the effort.
"It's okay, Jasper," Carolyn said gently, lacing her fingers with his, "You won't hurt them."
Her voice was soft, but firm — and Kal could sense something shifting in the man beside her. The tightness in Jasper's face eased almost instantly.
Kal narrowed his eyes slightly. That was clearly her ability at work.
Edward, standing beside Bella, gave an annoyed sigh and looked away as if the entire scene offended him with it's stupidity.
"All right," he said, clearly done with the introductions. "I'm going to take you for a tour of the rest of the house."
"Wait!" Alice called suddenly.
She practically skipped over to Bella, throwing her arms around her in a spontaneous hug. "I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Alice."
Bella smiled, a little taken aback by the sudden contact.
Alice pulled away, looking her over critically. "Oh, you do smell good."
"Alice," Edward groaned. "What are yo—"
"It's okay," Alice interrupted breezily. "Bella and I are going to be great friends."
"Fantastic," Edward muttered. "Bella? Shall we?"
He led her away, a little too quickly — leaving Kal and Alice standing with the rest of the Cullen family still very much watching them.
As Rosalie stormed off, Emmett gave a shrug and followed her, leaving a short lull in the room.
Kal stood awkwardly near the kitchen island, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Alice remained by his side, her fingers gently brushing his for reassurance. The scent of sautéed garlic and tomato filled the air, mingling with an unexpected warmth.
Carlisle was the first to break the quiet.
"So," he said, with the calm curiosity of a practiced doctor, "Kal, what brings you to Forks?"
Kal smiled politely. "A fresh start, I guess. I've… been moving around a lot. I needed somewhere quiet to get my bearings."
Esme, who was carefully ladling sauce into a pan, turned her head toward him, her expression gentle. "And have you found what you were looking for here?"
Kal's gaze flicked briefly toward Alice before returning to Esme.
"Maybe not what I was looking for, exactly, but something I didn't know I needed."
Esme's lips curved into a knowing smile, and Carlisle chuckled softly.
"That was diplomatic," Carolyn remarked from her place by Jasper, her tone amused. "You've got the Cullen tact down already."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Kal said, grinning.
Jasper, arms crossed, leaned casually against the counter. "You've handled a tense dinner and three vampires glaring at your jugular without flinching. Either you're fearless, or you've got nerves of steel."
Kal gave a small shrug. "Maybe both. Or maybe I just believe that people deserve the benefit of the doubt, no matter how sharp their teeth are."
Carlisle smiled at that. "Well said."
"So what are your plans while you're here?" Esme asked, now stirring the sauce. "You mentioned school — do you have any interests? Goals?"
Kal hesitated. "I like helping people. I'm still figuring out the rest. School's a part of it, but I think I'm just… trying to become someone better. Every day."
"That's admirable," Esme said warmly. "Forks could use more of that."
Carlisle nodded in agreement. "And you're staying alone? No family here?"
Kal nodded. "No. Just me. My parents… aren't around anymore."
A soft silence followed. Carolyn glanced at Jasper, then back at Kal.
"That's gotta be hard."
Kal acted thoughtful. "It has its moments. But I've learned a lot in a short time. Life keeps moving."
Jasper gave a small, approving grunt. "You speak like someone older than you look."
"I get that a lot," Kal said with a half-smile.
The clink of a spoon against the side of the pot signaled Esme's return to cheerful practicality.
"All right," she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Dinner's nearly ready. Would you two mind fetching Edward and Bella while we set the table?"
"Of course," Alice replied, already reaching for Kal's hand. "Come on. I'll show you around on the way."
Kal followed her out of the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind them.
They moved through the long hallways of the house, Alice's steps quick and graceful. The quiet hum of the house surrounded them. As they passed the glass-walled sitting room, Alice slowed her pace, glancing up at him.
"You did really well back there," she said softly.
Kal looked down at her, a bit surprised. "Thanks. Felt like I was getting the parental grilling."
"You were," Alice said matter-of-factly. "You passed."
She stopped in the middle of the hall, hands clasped behind her back as she looked up at him. "Bend down a little."
Kal blinked, confused. "What?"
She just wiggled her fingers at him. "C'mon, just a little."
He leaned down obediently, and Alice rose onto her tiptoes, pressing a quick, feather-light kiss to his cheek. She didn't pull back immediately, just lingered there, her breath warm against his skin.
"I'm proud of you," she whispered, and then, before he could say anything, turned and continued walking down the hall like nothing had happened.
Kal chuckled to himself, falling in step beside her.
"On the left is Jasper and Carolyn's room," Alice said, gesturing as they passed. "They don't use it much, but Carolyn has, like, seventy journals in there and zero organisational system."
Kal snorted. "Noted."
"That's the library, over there — well, it's mostly Edward and Carlisle's, but technically we all share it. Just be careful, Edward gets moody if anyone moves his books."
"Books and moody? Sounds dangerous."
They turned a corner, and soft piano music began to filter through the air — slow, elegant notes drifting like dust in sunlight.
Alice's voice dropped to a hush. "They're in there."
Kal followed her to the open doorway. Inside, Edward and Bella were dancing slowly in the middle of the room, completely lost in one another. The gentle strains of Clair de Lune played from an old turntable, the notes curling around them like a lullaby.
Kal leaned against the doorframe, watching them quietly for a moment before saying, "Debussy. Very nice."
Edward glanced over, a little surprised. "Do you play?"
Kal's lips quirked. "Somewhat."
Alice turned toward him, eyes narrowed in playful surprise. "You never told me you played."
"You never asked," he teased.
"Well," she said, hands on her hips, "you will have to play for me sometime."
Kal gave a low chuckle.
"That a request or a command?"
"Both."
Edward gave a dry smile.
"You're interrupting the moment, in case you didn't notice."
"Dinner's ready," Alice said lightly. "You two are being summoned."
Bella smiled and reached for Edward's hand. "Saved by the bell."
They slipped past Kal and Alice with quiet laughter, heading down the hall.
Once they were alone again, Kal turned toward Alice, raising a brow.
"So… when do I get to see your room?"
Alice's eyes widened just slightly. Then she looked down shyly.
"A girl's room is private," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Kal smiled.
"Noted."
…
The Cullen house was warm with soft golden light when they arrived—elegant and open, with glass walls and clean wood that made the forest feel like part of the architecture.
Inside, the scent of roasted vegetables and seared herbs filled the air—smoky, rich, comforting.
Esme stood at the far end of the dining table, smoothing a hand over a pristine white tablecloth. The spread was nothing short of elaborate: tagliatelle, roasted chicken, glazed carrots, stuffed mushrooms, artisan bread with herbed butter, even an apple tart cooling on a trivet.
"I wasn't sure what you liked," Esme said with a luminous smile as she looked to Kal and Bella, "so I made a little bit of everything."
Kal took a breath and smiled. "It looks amazing. Really."
"And it smells great," Bella added, her voice soft but sincere.
The Cullens filed in like actors taking their marks, moving with the kind of grace that only came from hundreds of practiced repetitions. Each sat at their place with deliberate ease—hands around water glasses, wine held delicately, plates in front of them untouched.
Kal pulled out a chair beside Alice, who beamed at him like the sun had finally shown up for dinner. He took his seat, nodded to Esme, and began to fill his plate.
He didn't just take a few bites. He ate.
The first forkful surprised him — the flavors bright, textures perfect. He'd promised he'd eat, and he'd meant it, but this? This was actually good. His Kryptonian biology didn't need sustenance — solar radiation sustained every function — but what food he did consume broke down into usable energy almost instantly, fueling his system like dry wood to a fire. And it also meant he could eat as much as he liked.
By the time Bella was halfway through her portion, Kal was already working through seconds. The Cullens watched without making it obvious that they were watching — Esme's efforts weren't wasted.
"Everything tastes incredible," Kal said genuinely, reaching for more of the bread. "Thank you, Esme."
The matriarch of the Cullen clan practically glowed.
The room settled into its rhythm, forks occasionally tapping porcelain, glasses lifted and set back down. Bella, clearly a little nervous, ate carefully. Edward sat beside her, all attentive restraint. Rosalie remained quiet, leaning against Emmett, who whispered something to her with a sideways grin—earning a faint twitch of a smile.
Carlisle opened the conversation.
"So, Kal, how have your first weeks at Forks High been treating you?"
Kal finished chewing, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and said, "Not bad. It's… quieter than I expected. But I don't mind that."
Alice piped in before he could continue.
"He's being humble. He's already top of every class. Like, literally perfect grades. Even physics."
Kal gave a small shrug, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips.
"The curriculum's familiar. I've been self-studying for a while."
Carolyn, seated near the end of the table, gave a dry smile.
"Must help having Alice's undivided attention."
Alice kicked her lightly under the table.
"It's been mutual," Kal said smoothly, a small glance toward Alice that made her smile bashfully despite herself.
Edward raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.
"You're gifted," Carlisle observed. "Have you always had an easy time with academics?"
Kal hesitated, choosing his words. "Let's just say I had a lot of time alone to learn. Not many distractions."
The conversation eased after that. Emmett asked about sports at school and seemed genuinely disappointed to learn Kal hadn't joined any teams. Esme asked if he had any favorite subjects. Bella asked if he missed where he came from.
Kal answered all of them in his calm, steady cadence.
"I've moved around a lot. Nothing worth missing. But Forks is... better than I thought it'd be."
He didn't elaborate — but he didn't lie either.
At one point, Carolyn offered him a slice of the tart. Kal accepted it graciously, took a bite — and then took another.
"This is really good," he said honestly.
Esme looked as if she might float.
Kal studied them between words and gestures. There was a strange rhythm to the Cullen family. On the surface, they were perfect: polite, loving, even warm. But beneath that harmony was tension — quiet, constant, like piano wire beneath silk.
They weren't just trying to be normal. They were performing it. And they'd been performing for a long time.
Rosalie was the most honest in that moment — her silence loud, her eyes cool as she watched him without expression. Emmett kept one hand on hers, thumb gently stroking the back of her palm like it would wear her roughness smooth.
Kal didn't miss how Carlisle and Esme watched him — not obviously, but constantly. Assessing. Weighing. He wasn't just Alice's match to them. He was an anomaly. A variable. Maybe even a threat.
And across from him, Edward.
Kal felt it when it happened. Just a feather-light brush. Like the shadow of a thought shifting over his own.
He didn't react outwardly. No tightening of his jaw, no shift in his shoulders. But he was aware. That... touch. A mind trying to skim the surface of his own.
Not hostile. Just curious.
And then, just as quickly, it was gone.
Across the table, Edward's eyes narrowed slightly — not suspicious, but intrigued.
Kal's thoughts hadn't been shielded, not exactly. But they weren't loud, either. Not like most humans. They were calm, controlled, almost... disciplined.
Not absent. Just still.
Edward sat back slightly. Kal caught the flicker of something in his expression — impressed, maybe?
And relieved. Kal wasn't shielding himself, which meant he wasn't a mental void like the wolves. Just... controlled.
That, more than anything, earned Kal a quiet thread of respect.
As the conversation lulled again, Esme reached for her water glass and said softly, "When we first came to Forks… we weren't sure it would work."
Kal turned to her, eyes curious.
"It took a few months," she said, voice gentler now. "It always does. We have to be careful. Even little things. But eventually, people stop looking so closely."
Carlisle glanced at her, then back at Kal.
"We go for quiet places. Places where we can live without constantly hiding who we are."
That silence came again, deeper than before.
Kal set down his fork and looked around the table — not at the food, but at the people. People who didn't have to be kind, but chose to be anyway.
He spoke quietly, but the words carried.
"I think people underestimate how hard it is to choose kindness, when you don't have to."
Even Rosalie's stillness shifted. She looked up — just for a moment. Not softened, not smiling, but watching.
It landed well.
Emmett gave a slow nod, his grin subdued for once. Alice's fingers tightened slightly around Kal's hand under the table.
Carlisle seemed almost delighted.
Edward studied him again. This time, not as a puzzle. As something rare.
Eventually, the meal wound down. Bella finished her drink and leaned slightly into Edward, looking full and content. Kal, having cleaned his plate twice, went in for thirds — another scoop of potatoes, another slice of tart. He wasn't pretending.
Esme stood. "Would you like to take some home, Kal? I could pack you a few things—just in case you get hungry later."
He smiled, genuine. "That'd be great. Thank you."
She lit up.
As dishes were gathered and soft conversations resumed, Alice leaned against him lightly, her fingers lacing with his beneath the tablecloth. Her thumb traced slow, thoughtful circles on his palm — like she was drawing new constellations into his skin.
The mood had shifted. The caution hadn't disappeared, but something else had begun to grow in its place.
Not trust. Not yet.
But openness. The kind that pulled him closer.
And Kal, sitting among the undead in a forest house glowing with light and warmth, felt something settle in his chest.
…
After dinner, the Cullens drifted into the sitting room like pieces falling back into place — each into a position well-worn and natural, the rhythm of a family long-practiced. The lights were dimmer here, warmer, diffused by low golden lamps and the cool silver of moonlight bleeding in through the vast windows. Outside, the forest whispered in shadows. Inside, there was only light.
Kal followed slowly, quietly observing the current of comfort that tied them all together. Edward moved instinctively toward Bella, guiding her to the couch with a hand at the small of her back, his expression open and calm in a way Kal hadn't seen before. Jasper remained close to Carolyn, every move subtle but deliberate, like he was in tune with her pulse. Emmett and Rosalie folded into an armchair together. He was relaxed, sprawling like a cat, she composed, aloof, but her hand found his without thought.
Even without a heartbeat, this family was alive.
Kal felt it — the harmony. The strength that came not from force, but from the deep rootwork of love chosen and reaffirmed every day. It stirred something beneath his ribs.
Then his eyes caught on it.
The piano.
Black as obsidian and polished to a shine so fine it reflected the room like still water, the grand piano sat as centerpiece and sentinel. Not just a decoration. Not merely for show. A real instrument. Loved, used.
Kal's gaze lingered.
"You said you played," Alice's voice broke softly into the silence beside him.
He turned, and she was there, smiling at him in that way that folded mischief into wonder. A sparkle in her eyes that said she already knew what was about to happen.
"I did," Kal admitted, guarded.
"Then play," she said.
He hesitated.
"I don't—" he looked around. "It's been a while."
"You can't say that," Alice teased, already taking his hand. "You don't forget how to feel."
He let her pull him forward. Slowly. Like being drawn into orbit.
He sat, and she moved away to sit on the arm of a nearby chair.
His fingers brushed the keys. Cold at first. Smooth. Familiar.
He hesitated for a moment, his hands hovering above the keys.
And suddenly, he wasn't alone.
The room faded.
Across from him, in the faintest flicker of vision and memory, stood the spectral image of Chopin.
Just like in the mindscape.
Same watchful eyes. Same quiet intensity.
He was waiting.
Kal exhaled.
And began.
Etude Op. 10, No. 4 in C-sharp minor. "Torrent."
The first note struck like a lightning bolt — then a second, a third. It wasn't music; it was a cascade. A violent storm channeled through precision. A waterfall of notes so fast and so sharp they shimmered like silver rain, each one polished to a blade's edge.
Kal's hands moved with blistering speed, a blur of fingers and intention. It was not just about dexterity, it was mastery under pressure, control born from fire. The piece demanded strength, but not brute force; it demanded clarity, discipline, and emotional surrender. It asked the performer to burn, and still play cleanly through the flames.
He was no longer Kal.
He was motion.
He was fury.
He was every broken bone and bloodied knuckle from the mindscape trial. Every time he'd failed. Until he hadn't. Every scream swallowed. Every hour endured. The relentless drive of will over exhaustion, of soul over system.
And across from him, Chopin played with him. Not against. With.
Two souls, one piece, pounding through the heart of chaos.
Behind him, the Cullens and Bella sat frozen.
The music didn't wash over them. It seized them. Pinned them.
Edward's brows had drawn together, eyes flicking between Kal's hands and his face, stunned not just by the sound, but the sheer emotional gravity behind it.
Jasper's hands were curled into fists — responding not to tension, but the raw intensity. He could feel it in the room. Sorrow, triumph, rage, transcendence. Emmett had gone still for once, blinking in open disbelief. Rosalie watched, unreadable but present.
Bella… Bella was breathless, eyes wide, mouth parted. She didn't understand the music's technique, but she understood what it meant.
And Alice?
She watched like someone hearing color for the first time.
The last notes struck sharp and sudden, like lightning grounding itself into the earth.
And then silence.
Kal sat, breath caught in his chest. His hands trembled on the keys. Not from exhaustion, but from emotion. From emotion unburied and poured out with nowhere to go.
He looked up.
The figure of Chopin was still. Then, slowly, he nodded. A proud, approving smile on that ghostly face. Then he raised his hands.
And applauded.
Kal bowed his head.
Alice broke the silence, whispering, "That was… unreal."
She was beside him now, practically glowing.
"Why didn't you tell me you could play like that?"
Kal gave a breath of laughter.
"You never asked."
Carlisle stepped forward. He looked moved. Thoughtful.
"I knew Chopin," he said, voice reverent. "In Paris, when he lived there. I watched him perform. Many a time. He was fire and fragility all in one."
He looked at Kal, gaze steady. "I believe… even he would have been stunned by what you just played."
There was a beat. Something weighed in the air. A rare kind of praise. And they all felt it.
But Alice — grinning now — leaned forward, voice lighter again.
"Okay. Now play something for me."
Kal turned slowly toward her.
His eyes flicked back to the phantom, Chopin still watching, still poised.
'Another?' Kal's eyes seemed to ask silently.
The spirit gave a knowing tilt of his head.
Kal nodded once. His fingers returned to the keys.
Nocturne in C-sharp minor, Op. Posth. 20.
This time, the sound that poured out was no storm.
It was moonlight. Soft, yearning, gentle as a lover's breath.
The melody wove its way through the room like a memory whispered in the dark — delicate and dreamlike, aching with something unsaid. This piece wasn't about power. It was about presence. It was the kind of song that folded itself around the heart and rested there, quiet but unshakable.
Kal's fingers moved with a different grace now. Not thunder, but tenderness. Not force, but feeling.
And this time, his eyes never left Alice's.
He played it for her. Every note was a confession. A thought he hadn't spoken aloud yet but found its shape here, in the space between chords.
This is how you make me feel.
Alice leaned against the piano, elbow on the lid, chin in her palm, her smile soft and faraway. Her eyes never left his. They didn't need to speak. The music said everything.
Even the others stayed silent, letting the melody settle into their bones.
When the final note faded like a dying star, Kal let his hands fall gently from the keys.
He looked again.
The vision of Chopin remained — smiling this time. Quietly proud. The master bowed his head once, and then… faded.
Kal sat in silence.
Until Alice spoke, her voice hushed and reverent.
"Play it again."
…
Kal's fingers lifted slowly from the keys, as if releasing something fragile. The last note of the nocturne lingered like a held breath in the room, until even that faded.
No one dared speak right away. The music had changed something. Even the vampires, ageless and immortal, seemed to carry more in their eyes than before.
Kal blinked, grounding himself again in the present. Alice was still leaning on the piano, head tilted toward him with a smile so luminous it made the low light feel brighter. Around the room, the others shifted slightly, the spell breaking.
Emmett gave a low whistle. "Damn, man. That was… intense."
"Beautiful," Esme corrected gently, her voice rich with feeling. "Absolutely beautiful."
Bella leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, expression caught between awe and something else. Realisation. That Kal was far more than he appeared. That they all were.
Edward gave her a subtle glance, something passing between them that Kal didn't catch.
Rosalie didn't say anything, but even she looked less guarded.
Carlisle smiled faintly. "You play like someone who's lived many lives."
Kal glanced at him, a small corner of his mouth lifting. "Feels like I have."
A warm moment passed — quiet, shared, uncomplicated.
Then Alice blinked.
Froze.
Her body went rigid, still as a statue, head turning slightly, eyes suddenly wide and unseeing. The hand that had been resting lightly on the piano slid away with a faint, almost metallic sound across the polished wood.
Kal stiffened instantly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, standing halfway, voice already edged with concern.
Esme was on her feet in an instant, already crossing the room.
"She's having a vision," she said softly, reassuring but alert.
The others didn't panic. Didn't flinch. They just watched.
Kal stayed tense beside the piano, instinct fighting confusion. He looked between Alice and the family, not understanding their calm.
Alice stood perfectly still, face turned somewhere far beyond the room. Her lips moved silently for a moment, then stopped. Her brow furrowed—then smoothed.
And then her eyes blinked clear again.
She swayed slightly.
Esme caught her elbow, steadying her.
"What did you see?" she asked.
Alice's gaze swept across the room. Past everyone. Past Bella.
To Kal.
Her eyes locked with his, a glint of excitement now in their depths.
She smiled.
"A storm's coming."
Kal blinked.
Beside him, Bella frowned, confused.
"…What does that mean?" Kal asked. "A storm?"
The room was already shifting. Expressions lit up, bodies stirred with a kind of sudden electricity. Jasper straightened with a grin, gripping Carolyn's hand tighter. Emmett stood, practically bouncing on his heels.
Even Rosalie seemed to smile.
Kal looked between them again.
"…Why is everyone happy about that?"
Alice, still watching him, only grinned wider.
"Wanna play baseball with us?"
...
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Chapter to tide you over just for a few more days until I finish my exams. Over 10,000 words this time, the longest so far. Also, I moved to using ellipses to show scene cuts instead of the line of dashes, because that didn't convert well in WebNovel. Carolyn is also staying permanently since literally no-one voted for Jasper to be alone. Not a single person. I have to say, you people are a lot nicer than me, I might've voted for it just because it was funny.
Finally — and most importantly — I hope you enjoyed the chapter.