The clearing hums with anticipation long before the first crack of thunder splits the sky.

Dark clouds roll low over the treetops, heavy and bruised purple, the kind of storm that makes the air taste sharp and metallic. Wind tugs through the field in restless bursts, rattling leaves and carrying the distant growl of thunder closer with every passing second. The Cullens’ makeshift baseball field sits carved out in the middle of the woods like a secret—smooth grass, bases barely visible, everything waiting.

Emmett’s jeep is parked just off the edge of the clearing, mud splattered up the sides from the drive in. Bella sits on the open tailgate, legs swinging nervously as she watches the family with wide eyes, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jacket. She looks small out here, human in a world that feels just a little too loud, a little too fast.

You’re perched on the roof of the jeep above her, boots braced against the metal, fishnet stockings disappearing beneath black mid-thigh shorts. The wind catches the hem of your worn metal band tee, tugging at the fabric and lifting strands of your split-dyed hair—half black, half red—into the air like flickers of flame. Thunder flashes again, briefly lighting up the gold flecks in your hazel eyes and the glint of metal from your piercings. Ink peeks out along your arms and sides as you shift, relaxed but alert, completely at home despite the danger humming just beneath the surface of everything.

“You sure you’re good up there?” Bella asks, glancing up at you.

You grin down at her. “Best seat in the house.”

A sudden blur of movement announces Emmett before he even speaks. He skids to a stop beside the jeep, cleats digging shallow grooves into the dirt, laughter already rumbling in his chest. He looks impossibly solid, impossibly excited—like a kid about to set off fireworks in a thunderstorm.

“There you are,” he says, eyes locking on you immediately. His grin widens, proud and possessive in that unmistakably Emmett way. “Thought you might wanna come down before we start. Don’t want you getting launched when someone hits a home run.”

You arch a brow, unfazed. “You saying you can’t catch me?”

That earns a booming laugh. Emmett reaches up, resting a massive hand on the side of the jeep, gaze warm as it traces over you. “Oh, I can catch you,” he says easily. “I just like knowing where you are.”

Thunder cracks again, closer now, shaking the ground beneath your feet. Around the field, the Cullens take their positions—Edward calm and focused, Alice practically vibrating with excitement, Jasper watchful, Carlisle serene, Esme smiling softly at the scene like it’s all perfectly normal.

Emmett steps back, still watching you, stormlight flashing behind him. “Game’s about to start,” he calls. “Don’t blink.”

You smile, pulse quickening—not from fear, but from the thrill of it. Storm overhead, vampires on the field, your boyfriend grinning like the world is about to explode in the best way possible.

And in the middle of it all, human and unbreakable, you stay right where you are.