Ever since her first vision of you, Alice had been unraveling.

It hadn’t been a clear, harmless glimpse of the future — not like spotting a misplaced set of car keys or predicting the weather. No, this one had been sharp. Personal. Unsettling. You standing at the center of something she couldn’t quite see around. A turning point. A fracture in the careful balance she and her family had built in Forks.

And the worst part? It felt inevitable.

Her visions were never absolute. They shifted with decisions, splintered into new paths with every choice someone made. She had clung to that uncertainty, hoping desperately that this was one of those fragile futures — one that would dissolve if she simply avoided you long enough.

But avoiding you proved impossible.

Edward had known from the moment the vision struck. He’d seen it in her thoughts — the flash of your face, the tension in her chest, the ripple of dread she tried to bury. The looks he gave her after that were heavy. Questioning. Protective. It only made her more anxious. She hated keeping things from him, but she hated even more that she didn’t understand what you meant yet.

Then she saw you.

Walking through the crowded hallway of Forks High like you’d always belonged there. The transfer student everyone had been whispering about. Curious glances followed you, quiet speculation trailing in your wake.

It was you. Exactly as she’d seen.

The same posture. The same expression. The same presence that had been haunting her mind for days.

And from that moment on, it was as if the universe refused to let her look away.

You were in her classes. Every single one. You passed her in the hallway at just the wrong moments. Once, you even collided shoulders, an innocent accident that sent a strange jolt through her — not pain, but confirmation. The future was tightening around them.

She tried to reroute it. Sat in different seats. Took longer routes between classes. Left early. Arrived late.

It didn’t matter.

You kept appearing.

Eventually, the realization settled in with quiet certainty: whether she feared it or not, you were going to become part of her life. One way or another.

So she made a choice.

The vision flickered again — shifting, adjusting — as she stood from her usual seat and crossed the classroom.

You were focused, pen moving steadily across your notebook, attention fixed on the teacher’s voice. Oblivious. Human. Ordinary in a way that made the looming unknown even more terrifying.

She slid into the empty seat beside you with effortless grace.

Up close, you seemed even more real than in her visions. Warmer. Less ominous.

Alice turned slightly, offering a smile so soft and genuine it could disarm almost anyone. It wasn’t forced — she never had to force charm. But there was something deliberate behind it now. A decision.

“I don’t think we’ve really had a chance to meet.” She said, her voice light, melodic — carefully normal.

Her golden eyes studied you with quiet intensity masked behind friendliness.

“I’m Alice. We have a lot of classes together, and I just thought… maybe we should get to know each other.”

A small tilt of her head. Curious. Inviting.

“What’s your name?”