I opened the door slowly, the hinges moving perfectly without a sound. My breath hitched as I saw Edward, my personal Adonis, my fiancé, lying on the bed he had bought with me in his mind. Guilt rushed through me, and I would have fallen and curled up into a foetal position if not for the knowledge that Edward needed me strong and with my wits about me. It would take a lot of willpower to convince him of the crime I had committed now.

"Edward?" I whispered, so softly it was indiscernible to my own ears. Edward lay curled up on the bed, his clothes torn and caked with dirt and blood. Only I could cause an immortal to turn up in this state after said immortal survived a vampire attack. He had emerged out of Victoria's fight unscathed, but it was my betrayal with Jacob that caused this.

No response. I had always thought of him as made out marble, but I never thought it would be so literal. He was facing the glass wall, away from me. That stung me in more ways than one. I crawled over the large bed to his side and gently touched his shoulder. "Edward?"

He rolled over to lie on his back then, and it took all of my strength not to break out in tears then. His face was expressionless, numb, almost resigned, but his eyes told a different story altogether. What had once been topaz and full of joy and hope was now black and brimming with the pain he refused to let show. It was the most vulnerable I had ever seen Edward at yet, and it was more heart breaking than seeing a human suffer the same. Immortals should not have to go through this kind of torture, it was wrong.

And then, after all my pain taken to ensure I didn't cry, a sob escaped my lips and Edward's burning eyes swivelled to meet mine, black touching brown, pain meeting pain. I abandoned everything and intertwined my fingers with his, lying next to him and embracing him, letting my warmth soothe his burn. He didn't respond, and I just lay there holding him, loving him...piecing him back together the way a mother would her sobbing child, a wife would her wounded husband.

I don't know how long I stayed there, nursing Edward, but eventually I got up. His face broke, and all the pain reflected on it. I held his hand tightly and tugged gently. He could barely walk, and I could read the confusion and hurt in his face, the conflicting emotions he struggled to leash and chain somewhere where the sun didn't shine. I unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his jeans, and when he stood in front of me naked, I led him into the bathroom and into the tub.

I ran a warm bath, hot enough to massage away the slithering cold fear in his body and cold enough to refresh and wake up him enough to let him wake from the cloud of emotions clouding in. I stripped myself free of my shirt and got in, not caring that my shorts were getting wet and that I was sitting in a bathtub with a naked Edward.

I picked up a sponge and started wiping him down, infusing my love for him into each touch that wiped away the dirt and blood stained on his body, and showing him my regret and guilt in each kiss I laid on his neck and shoulders. His shoulders relaxed from the stiff, hard set to a relaxed and yet painfully resigned slump.

I tried to show him all my emotions, trying to break down my natural walls as I wiped away the dirt and blood as well as the hidden, yet ever present, shock and anguish and pain at my betrayal. At the same time I showed him my sorrow, my regret, and the invisible tears I shed for him each time he berated himself for hurting me, for not being the person I deserved. After the last smudge of dirt and blood had been wiped away he twisted in my arms and lay his head on my shoulder, his arms finding their way around my waist, and suddenly I was cradling Edward Cullen, the vampire immortal that tried so hard to keep his emotions on a leash to the point that he reaches his breaking point.

"Edward," I whispered, my lips at his neck. "Edward."

The water turned from warm to cold, and throughout I stayed there with Edward, helping him find himself again. When Edward noticed the temperature of the water, he got out, letting go of me completely. He stood in front of the tub, facing the door, his fists clenched and his body shaking. I got up to join him, and keeping my hand planted on his hip, I led him back to the bed, dressing him in the clothes I found and lying him on the bed.

He obeyed willingly enough, yet once he was lying on his back he looked at me with an unreadable expression in his black eyes. I knew his thoughts and I scoffed at them. He thought that I would leave, that my job at the Cullen household was accomplished and now I was going back. He thought I should be going home now. He didn't understand then, and didn't now-this was my home. My home was where he was. It didn't matter if it was here, in Forks, or in China, or in a coffin six feet under.

I stumbled into bed with Edward and sat cross legged, lifting his head and putting it in my lap. I stroked his face, kissed his nose, brushed away his hair. He turned to bury his face in my stomach, and I held him there, wishing we could be soldered together like this for eternity.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered; a cracked, broken sound full of dread and fear for the future. A tear hung on my eyelash as he turned his head and stared into my eyes.

"Never again," I murmured, and the tear fell, landing on the exact spot where his heart lay, still and silent, but with the capacity to love beyond his means. He touched the tiny wet spot on his shirt, almost wonderingly, and continued to stare into my eyes with the wonder that someone had shed a tear for him.

Brown met black, pain met pain, but as the minute hand on the clock moved, black eased to gold, and pain morphed into hope.

Inspired by...nothing, actually. Just something I thought of while waiting for lunch. Love it? Hate it? Review it!