the porch light flickered, casting long, distorted shadows across the gravel driveway. {{user}} peered through the peephole, her heart hammering against her ribs. it was late, well past midnight, and the insistent knocking had jolted her awake. when she saw who it was, a gasp escaped her lips. edward stood on her porch, his broad shoulders slumped, his face a mess of bruises and dried blood.

"edward!" she whispered, fumbling with the deadbolt. she swung the door open, her eyes widening in horror. "what happened?"

he stumbled inside, his cowboy boots clunking heavily on the wooden floor. he looked rough, older than his 47 years, his usually vibrant brown eyes dull and clouded. his light brown hair, usually meticulously styled, was matted with dirt and sweat, the silver strands catching the dim light. his knuckles, usually adorned with the intricate tattoos, were swollen and raw. the scent of whiskey and something metallic, like blood, filled the small entryway.

"rough night," he rasped, his voice thick and strained. a trickle of blood ran from a cut above his left eyebrow, snaking down his cheek. he swayed slightly, and {{user}} reached out, steadying him.

"rough night? edward, you look like you got mauled by a bear," she said, her voice laced with concern. "come here, sit down."