"And the Lion Fell in Love with the Lamb"
Chapter 1. First Sight
Ah. Lets not forget the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by thy amazing Stephenie Meyer, not I. My fanfiction is of no comparison to her work. And I make no money from it. Please don't sue me.
Oh. I forgot to mention. Bella met Edward during his rebellious period. Not the "1930 Rebellious" period, but the current time rebellious period. And this is where the title fits into the story. Edward was the last one to be turned into a vampire.
Isabella Swan
"C'mon, Bella. Let's dance!" Mike encouraged again, full of enthusiasm. He had a big wide smile on his face; I suppose he was trying to seduce me into dancing with him - unsuccessfully for what felt like the umpteenth time. I was almost absolutely positive he was on the verge of begging. The guy really just needed to just accept the fact that I didn't dance. I couldn't dance. With my slow reflexes and clumsy movements, I would only succeed to drag him down.
I admit, at this point, I was only blaming him because it comforted me to know that this wasn't my fault. It wasn't at all. I found that it was easier to go through mishaps like this when someone else was at fault. I was completely powerless. But it still didn't seethe my misdirected anger. Jessica had, the very second that the last bell rang, dragged Mike to the club she found in Port Angeles. She was, no doubt, hoping to try and hit it off with Mike. However, Mike had another idea in mind. I was his current interest and so therefore, he proceeded to ask me to "come along". Of course, I had refused. But who would listen?
Mike could be a great friend; I tried to convince my inner devil.
But that was exactly the problem. Being friends was never enough for Mike. He was always trying to be more than that. Again and again I've told him that I wasn't interested. I was, of course, unconditionally ignored. What did he care that I wasn't interested? He was popular Mike. Guys like him are so used to getting what they wanted, they didn't care what anyone else thought. And to think he expected me to go out with him.
In my earlier career as a student, I had simply been part of the background. In high school, I didn't fit in anywhere. Never had I been the straight A nerd, nor the popular cheerleader. There wasn't anywhere I belonged.
And my mom was my best friend. It was the way it is and the way I liked it. I wasn't one to crave attention. I never felt the need to be adored in order to erase my insecurities. Nor had I ever questioned my physical features. As the information quickly gathers, I had simply assumed that I was just plain Jane. That news did not bother me.
What did bother me was why people now actually see me. They notice when I walk past – sometimes to the point where their eyes would follow. I had never experienced something like this. All sixteen years of my existence, I had been…well, nonexistent. Now they strip me of my comfort zone and place me in the center of attention. How was I supposed to work with that?
What was even bigger of a mystery was that they want my attention. Things like this don't happen to me. I mean sure, someone has liked me before, but not to the point of desperation. And most certainly not those like Mike. What would a popular, good-looking and a much sought after guy want with me?
Maybe it's like when you multiply two negatives to get a positive. Referring to most high school's social chart, I would fit on the bottom. I wasn't pretty, skinny (at least to the point where you literally weigh 50 lbs), nor smart. Heck, I couldn't even remain standing for longer than one hour. But - according to my new school here in Forks, people find me interesting. And I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
Evidently, life doesn't always give you what you want.
"No, Mike. I don't dance," I didn't even bother hiding my dislike for dancing, or this club. Usually, I try to reason with Mike, but unfortunately for him, my patience was all used up. How could it not? He never seemed able to process the simple fact that I do not like him.
On cue, as if to prove my point, he said "C'mon, Bella. You know you want to dance with me," and flashed me another supposedly seductive smile. He was trying too hard.
"I'm going home, Mike. You stay here and have fun with Jessica." I tried to sound cheerful and convincing so that perhaps he would listen to me and not insist - or beg - to take me home, instead – I knew – I probably sounded annoyed. Leaving no room for him to protest, I dashed for the door as quickly as I can. Concealing my body amongst others, it was easy to go unnoticed. The club was dark and there were just way too many people. I did trip once or twice when I was heading for the door. Big surprise there.
I bolted through the metal door and the sudden gush of cold air hitting my face felt extremely soothing. It was getting dark, the sun barely above the horizon. The invisible moon had somehow emitted enough light to see by. We had all came by Jessica's car. So I was left with two options, one - walk home peacefully or two - wait in the stuffy boring club while Mike continues to hit on me. It didn't take a genius to figure out which one I would choose. Walking home wasn't half as bad as waiting for Mike and Jessica.
While I walked, I had my eyes locked on my feet. Any little bump on the sidewalk could very possibly end my life. I would not take any risks. It was so exasperating, having to be so cautious all the time. Nonetheless, I still absolutely refuse to admit that I could still trip without any 'bump'. I walked at a very slow pace. I didn't realize that it was really dark until I looked up. Determined to get home before Charlie started sending police troops after me, I walked considerably faster, still looking at my feet.
Left, right, left, right, left – avoid the green thingy – right, left, right, left--
BAM!
Okay, mission failed. Still, I was not surprised. Better I fell from hitting something than from nothing at all.
It felt like I bumped into something really, really hard. Like a stone or a rock – maybe even a chunk of diamond. How I wish that were true. But that stone-thingy-mabobber had incredibly sent me flying backwards, landing more or less on my ass.
I groaned, feeling a very inconvenient bruise. Great. Just the cherry on top of my wonderful day - being knocked off my feet by some gigantic thing that came out of nowhere. I looked up and gasped.
"Oh, pardon me, miss. My apologies, I was not looking where I was going." The mountain speaks! I usually have an overdose of sarcasm when I was in a bad mood. The guy was unbelievably gorgeous. And that would have been an understatement of the year. Unbelievably gorgeous would not have done him justice at all. Unbelievably gorgeous was what you use to describe earthly creatures like me. This guy might have been an angel.
It was just too bad that his attractiveness hadn't affected my sour mood. Any other circumstance and I would swoon. Heck, any other girl and she would've been on her knees. On her knee, weak from standing. What were you thinking?
"I'm perfectly fine," I said sourly, rubbing on the sore spot on my ass "And you? Certainly, your hard body manages to survive the collision? I mean, honestly! The damage I must've done!" I feigned concern while looking him up and down. I was right, not a FREAKING scratch.
He reached down and pulled me to my feet in one quick motion. I gasped, caught by surprise. My weight did not seem at all a bother to him. He placed me gently on my feet. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"No, I'm not okay." I suddenly gotten an idea. "But, I would forgive you if you give me a ride home…?" I was hopeful. It was just a ride, I did not think it was too much to ask for. Normally I did not talk to strangers or even ask them for rides. Charlie had told me never to do that. But it was getting dark and walking outside in the dark wasn't the best idea. I was desperate. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. Besides, what Charlie doesn't know won't hurt him.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked me, really serious all of a sudden. As if we were discussing my death instead of a ride home. Ridiculous.
"Yeah, I would pretty appreciate it." I said, grateful. I did not want to seem ungrateful to this stranger.
He smiled a dark smile, a fake one too. "Okay, if that's what you want." I stared at him, confused. He was acting strange. "I'm really sorry about that." He spoke more cheerfully this time, as if trying to erase my paranoia. "Usually, I can tell when there is somebody ahead of me. It's like internal radar." He grinned.
I eyed him warily. "Am I missing a joke?"
He ignored my question. "My car is right down the street at the corner. You must let me drive you home, after all the inconvenience that I've caused you." He pointed to the direction that I came from. He suddenly sounded extremely willing to help – and strangely hyper. But so different from his original reaction.
His pleasantness seemed to me like an act.
When we got to his car, he opened the door for me to climb in then walked around to the driver's seat. I knew I wasn't wrong to peg him for a gentleman. I recognized his car as a Volvo, but the color I couldn't tell. It was too dark. But I was sure it was something like silver. He climbed in smoothly and buckled his seat belts. "You should buckle in too," He chuckled. The tone sounded like he was enjoying a private joke. Again, I didn't understand it.
I looked up into his eyes, my own gaze was questioning. That was my first mistake. I looked into his eyes. If he was gorgeous before, he was even better now. Before, it was too dark for me to see anything, and I was too grumpy to care. But with the car lights on, I could see it perfectly.
Beautiful was quite an understatement, like he was somehow carved out of different material than what everyone else was made of. If there were a god, I would say he had favorites. The man had a perfectly symmetrical face - as far as I can tell and a shade of reddish-brown hair, looking like a lot bronze or copper. Tall and maybe a bit scrawny, but that flaw only added to his charm.
But it was his eyes that caught my attention and held it. His eyes were an odd color between burgundy and black – very…cherry-like. Lights from the car that was supposed to have been reflected in his eyes were not. His eyes were strangely opaque.
What truly disturbed me was the emotion behind his eyes that I could read so easily. It was the look of hunger – a look that perhaps a predator gives to his prey. It was how you would stare at a big chunk of food when you were starving. Just his eyes sent shivers up my spine.
He had somehow noticed my subtle shiver and looked away. My intuition clicked.
He was dangerous.
Edward Cullen
It has been about four months since I decided to break off all ties with my family. I had been a creature of the night for exactly 8 months, 2 weeks, 5 hours and still counting. At first, I was shocked that I became a creature that was only heard of in myths. I was frightened and fascinated at the same time. Carlisle told me everything about being a vampire. The blood, the sunlight, the speed, the hearing, the smell - just about everything.
When Carlisle found me, I was on the verge on death. It was death or vampire. I'm glad he chose to turn me, but lately there are a lot of...difficulties. Difficulties, being a very incorrect term.
It was mainly the "side effects" that came with it. Carlisle had been more than kind to me over the three extremely difficult days of the transformation. I am eternally grateful for that. Then why had I left, you ask. Truthfully, I did not want to leave.
Not that I told anyone that. It would make it so make harder for Esme if I told her that, initially, I had wanted to stay. She deserves a better son. The entire family deserves somebody better. Not a spineless creature like me who gives in to the first call of temptation.
Before I had left, Esme had given me her consolations. She begged me stay, promised me that it would work out. She said that she believed in me.
That was one thing I could not allow. I did not want those I care about to have faith in me. For somebody to believe in me would mean that they expected me to live up to their expectations. That was something I could not handle. Expectations. In the end, I would just disappoint them.
I could not run away from the obvious, either. There was a huge difference in our preference of eating habits, you could say. At first, when I would go on hunting trips with other members of my family, animals were enough for me. Until I met a real human. It had been an accident, something I was not ready for but nonetheless, I had taken that man's life. I hated myself. I had become something despicable.
That was when the excitement and fascination with vampires end. This was a curse. As Rosalie often says (in her mind) – had we gotten the life we wanted, we would be ten feet under.
I did not tell my family of this man I had killed. I was too ashamed. What would innocent Esme say about my behavior? How would the ever-defiant Carlisle respond? I kept it a secret. And it all seemed to go so well. Sometimes when I go hunting, instead of following my siblings to the field I would run off to a human.
It became easier and easier to take their lives. I've had every kind. The pedophiles, the murderers, the rappers, the cheating husbands, the abusive parents. I had reason to believe that I was doing good to the world. The world was much better without them.
It was so pathetic, even I had seen through the lie I made to myself. Still, it felt better to know that the people that I was killing – they all deserved to die. And the strangest thing was, I envied their ability to die.
Carlisle usually refers to vampires like him as a "vegetarian". I disagree. When you hear "vegetarian", you think that they just deny themselves the food that taste better. But it goes deeper than that. It isn't about the better tasting. In fact, we don't even have the choice. Once we get hungry (thirsty, rather) and smell food, our mind loses control and the body takes over. There's no way of holding back - but with the only exception of Carlisle. I admit that life living on animal blood was too much for me. I wasn't strong enough to hold up with just that. I bailed. Leaving a very disappointed Carlisle and sad Esme.
I had just hunted. Right before I met the girl. I don't deny that I would have killed her right there but there were other humans around. She had the best smelling blood I had ever encountered. I could've sworn that the blood had been made just for me. Had I not hunted just minutes before, the girl would've been gone already. I was thoroughly disgusted by the fact that I had to kill another human, but the bloodlust quickly lapse that. Leaving no room behind for remorse. That was the way life worked. It wasn't her fault that her blood smelled so nice, I knew. But what was I supposed to do? Leave her behind? That was next to impossible. Besides, this world wasn't always equally fair to everyone in it.
It's a fight to survive.
This is the edited version.