I do not own anything recognisable.

The Luxury of Tears

"Don't expect me laugh at that hideous attempt at humour." I hissed. How dare he try and make this okay?

I stared into his face, almost wishing him dead. I mean, if he were dead, I wouldn't have to put up with him. That would really make me happy right now.

And he was staring right back.

"Honey, please try to understand." Understand what exactly? That he was giving up on something that I had put so much into. All I had wanted was for us to work out.

But I didn't really want him to die. Not really. I wanted him to live with me actually. I wanted him.

"I do understand." Hopefully that would placate him. To know that deep down I would always belong to him. Only to know at the same time I would give him up. All I wanted was to see him happy.

And for my self harm I got a blinding smile as reward. He pulled me to him and wrapped me up in a hug I would always remember. He was saying goodbye. Giving up on something that never was.

I didn't hug him back. Him touching me was just a reminder of what I was loosing.

It hurt. My insides were being twisted, and although I didn't use them much anymore, I could still feel it and it hurt.

"I'll still visit you." He whispered, not letting go of my unresponsive body. I hoped he wouldn't. At least, not for a very long time. Not until I had healed.

He let go.

"We've had good times haven't we?"

I could feel my lips starting to pull into a pout. I couldn't take this, he needed to go.

"Yeah." Good times. That was all they were to him. Nothing like how I had felt. None of those feelings of being complete. Being finally happy.

"I hope you aren't - " I started.

"You know I wouldn't." He was gazing around the room. But the tension on his face was there and I knew he was telling the truth.

"I guess you have to go now."

I wanted him to tell me I was wrong.

He nodded slowly.

I was glad my sisters were out so that I could bear this rejection without them knowing every single detail.

He was going. Passing the soft armchairs that he had refused to sit on. Gently walking over our rug. He was past the fire. Through the hall. Door shut.

My front door was shut softly.

It might as well have slammed, I'm sure it wouldn't have hurt any less.

Before I could think on it my feet had carried me up the stairs, to the front bedroom.

I leaned up against the window. My breath didn't steam, it wasn't warm.

My nose was pressed right up against it. But I couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel the cold.

His bronze hair ruffled in the wind.

I wish I could smell him.

He was walking slow. Did he know what he was doing to me?

With every step, an agonising twist with that invisible knife, taking out my insides.

A gaping whole.

And it was getting bigger with every passing moment.

My hand lifted to the glass. I was trying to reach out to him. Still.

My voice shook as I whispered the only thing that could help me bring closure.

"Goodbye Edward."

I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat.

He turned.

Golden eyes stared up at me.

"Bye Tanya."

My lip trembled.

But vampires can't cry.