Disclaimer. I do not own Twilight or any of the characters, they remain the property of Stephanie Meyer. No copy rite infringement is intended, and this is not done for commercial gain.
A/N UnBetaed, any mistakes are unfortunately my own. Just a bit of fun, not quite a one shot, more a half measure.
My name is Edward Cullen. I have one true love. Her name is Sylva. She's the best I've ever had.
As a vampire, I am not like the other students, I am a little 'unusual'. I have what you might call quirks, I can outrun an angry mountain lion, I can bench press the whole damn bench never mind just the weights. That's why Sylva suits me down to the ground. A perfect match. Mainly because she, like me, is sexy and powerful. She is cold and solid and fast.
I get a thrill just running my hand over her smooth hard curves, and don't even get me started about the way she shines in the sunlight. I couldn't ask for more.
Sylva is in tune with me. She knows exactly what I want and what I expect from her. When I turn her on, she purrs for me. They say that variety is the spice of life, and it's like that with us, sometimes we take it slow, but mainly I like to drive her hard and fast, I push her to her limits, until she is screaming for me. But then again I am a bit of a control freak, so no surprises there.
We've been together a while now, she has always been reliable. Never once has she let me down, or left me stranded. Even that one time I did a little damage when I banged her against a wall, we just got her fixed up and she was good to go again in no time.
She is not just pretty on the outside either, she is gorgeous on the inside too. Intelligent and up to date. She is super stylish, with her polish and paint, and sumptuous hand stitched Italian leathers. I love the supple feel of them as I run my fingers along them. Hell'n I paid for em. I'll damn well enjoy em.
My cold dead heart lurches in my chest, just at the sight of her waiting for me. The anticipation of me slipping in and handling her turning me on and making me hard.
I know the other kids at school are jealous. I don't need to be a mind reader to figure that one out. I see it in the open mouthed expressions on their otherwise plain and boring faces when we pass them by. They wish she was theirs. Wish they could feel the buzz, attract the attention she commands. But she's mine, all mine. I now add possessive as well as controlling to my growing list of negative character traits.
We carefully thread our way through the mess of old rusty junkers that are slowly lumbering about, clogging up the exit to the parking lot. Then we are free. No one else is using this quite tree lined route. Away from prying eyes, we can really take off, we are free. Pushing against the wind, we reach our natural limit, maybe 100 miles an hour. The asphalt blurring beneath us.
I see her then, parking her ancient red truck in her yard. We slow. She turns and regards us. Her mouth turned down, a look of disgust clouding her usually pretty features as she looks Sylva up and down. Her eyes trail over to me, and I smile and raise my hand. She gathers her backpack and jacket, then turns from me mumbling.
"Stupid shiny Volvo driver."