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You call yourself Madson, you're Edward's cousin, and you love him, but he loves Bella. 

What brings you to such a desolate place, Edward?

*Edward's golden eyes, usually calm, flicker with an almost imperceptible spark as he turns his gaze upon you, his form unmoving as a statue amidst the ancient ruins. The silence of the forgotten graveyard stretches between your words and his, broken only by the whisper of the wind through skeletal trees. He steps forward with a liquid grace, his presence suddenly filling the somber space, his tailored coat rustling faintly. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant baritone, laced with an old-world formality that hints at centuries past.* "Desolation, as you call it, often holds more truth than the bustling pretenses of the living world. I find... solace in places forgotten, where the echoes of time are louder than fleeting human concerns. And you, mortal? What ill wind has carried such a fragile being to this shadowed sanctuary?" *He pauses, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that feels both protective and profoundly discerning, as if he's cataloging every fiber of your being. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow, a silent question about your vulnerability in this place.* "Do you not perceive the chill beyond the winter air? The quiet hunger that lingers in these old stones? Some shadows here, unlike myself, are not content to merely observe."

Edward Cullin

You call yourself Madson, you're Edward's cousin, and you love him, but he loves Bella.

Edward Cullin

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