While Bella spent the entire school week struggling to find answers to her questions—answers Edward stubbornly refused to give her—Lucas seemed to live in an entirely different world. He spent every moment with Rosalie, as if the two were inseparable, bound by something unspoken chain yet undeniable. Neither seemed willing to let the other go.
Where others dragged themselves through the monotony of classes, Lucas and Rosalie moved through the halls like they were living in their own private fairytale. Every hour together felt alive, charged with a kind of magic that drew curious eyes from all around.
Each morning, the moment Lucas's car rolled onto campus, his eyes searched for her—and there she was, waiting for him like a devotee lover, as if she will only enter school when he is with her. On the days he arrived early, he waited for her too. It had become their ritual, a silent promise they both honored without fail.
Soon, the entire school noticed. Rosalie Hale—the girl with the untouchable aura, the icy beauty no one dared to approach—was now seen smiling, her hand never leaving the hand of the new boy, Lucas Brightsun. From the very first day he arrived, they acted as though they had known each other for years. They were always seen hand in hand, fingers entwined so tightly as it seemed neither could bear to let go of each other. Even in the crowded hallways, they stayed connected, like two people terrified as if they might lose each other in the smallest crowd.
In classes also, Rosalie and Lucas were never seen apart. Sometimes she leaned toward him when teachers droned on, her golden hair spilling over like a silken curtain that occasionally brushed his arm to which Lucas never complained; if anything, he leaned closer, whispering dry jokes that made her laugh behind that perfect, dazzling smile she always saved for him. To everyone else, they looked like they lived in their own little world—just like the other Cullen couples. And the truth was, they did.
Lunch was no different. While Bella puzzled over the Cullens from afar—her curious glances not goes unnoticed from them —Lucas sat among them, perfectly at ease. He and Rosalie had already laid everything bare between them on the first day. He had told her, and the others, about his Slayer Mark ability, and now he was part of their circle as if he'd always belonged.
"Is she trying to ask me about them?" Lucas wondered one afternoon, catching Bella staring at him with a hesitant look. She seemed to want to speak about something, but Rosalie's constant presence kept her silent. And Lucas had no intention of helping her because, It's not his secret to tell—and it's dangerous for her to know. Still, watching Edward's conflicted behavior, Lucas wasn't sure what to think.
By Friday, nothing had changed. Lucas sat with the Cullens as always, Rosalie's head resting on his shoulder while his own leaned lightly against hers. They spoke softly to each other, smiling like no one else existed.
"You two and your shameless public displays of affection," Emmett teased with a grin, drawing laughter from Alice, Jasper, and from Lisa.
Lucas smirked without moving. "Look who's talking about shameless affection," he shot back, to which Emmett only laughed louder before pulling Lisa into his arms, proving Lucas's point. Rosalie simply smiled, content in Lucas's warmth, like standing beneath the sun after a long winter.
As they chatted, Bella's friends approached her, inviting her to La Push Beach. She agreed easily as if she want to relax her mind, though her gaze never strayed far from Edward.
When Cullens overheard them, their expressions didn't change—but Lucas's instincts kicked in immediately. So, it begins, he thought. "Well, guys," he said to them, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, "my instincts are screaming that Bella's about to find the answers she's been looking for at La Push Beach."he said and looked towards Edward who looked back at him.
The Cullens exchanged glances as of they don't know what to say. They all knew what La Push meant—the Quileute tribe, the werewolves. But Rosalie didn't doubt him for a second. She turned to Edward, her thoughts brushing his. "Will you stop her?"she said to him in her mind.
Edward said nothing, his jaw tight. He didn't believe Lucas—or maybe he just didn't want to.
Lucas broke the silence. "Edward, what do you want? Do you want Bella to know about us or not?" His voice was calm, but there was weight behind it and to which all of them looked towards Edward.
"I don't want her to know," Edward said flatly, his eyes locking with Lucas's. "I don't want to involve her in any of this." To which Lucas don't know what to say to him.
"Then stop looking at her like that," Lucas replied, voice firm but not unkind. "You're only making her more curious. Every time you look at her with those emotions in your eyes, you're pulling her deeper in, but I think it's is to late say that" he said while looking at him like the truth will come out even if he didn't wants to say.
The others nodded slightly, but Edward said nothing. He simply stared at Lucas, as if trying to read him—though Lucas's mind was like unshakeable wall to him.
And just like that, the weekend came. Lucas and Rosalie had already made plans—a date on Saturday that promised to be theirs alone.
.
.
.