AN: I do not own the twilight series, or any Bella and Jacob. If I did, their story would have ended differently, and together.
Ironic Symmetry.
"Tonight you will sleep for good, you will wait for me my love"
First beach had always been their place. It was where they first met, him so young, and open, and eager to give. Her, young as well. But not that young. Closed off and unattainable, even then. It was on that ageless beach that he first fell in love with her. She, so broken and lost and beautiful. How could he resist? Where he first saved her from herself. Damn her, and her weaknesses. And it was where she broke his very first heart. So there was a kind of ironic symmetry that it would be the last place they met.
Him: Old, he felt so much older. Her: Cold, and hard, and frightening. "Jacob, I'm back," she said, her voice like bells. "La, la, la, la" the waves sing, "nothing lasts forever, except for her." When he didn't say anything she took a small step towards him. "Jake, I missed you so much" her arms outstretched, longing to touch him. Jacob cringes and stares at her for a long moment, as if trying to see if she is still there. Buried somewhere, deep down in this cold stranger. "You're dead." He says flatly, turning away from her. "No Jake, I'm here," she cries, "Jake look at me." Please, look at me. "I've come back to you. I'm here. I'm back." She breathes, taking his burning hand in hers.
Her hair falls into her eyes, as she laughs, and leans forward to touch his cheek. "Oh Jake…" God, help me forget. His dead eyes flicker with some emotion she doesn't recognize. "No, you are dead" he repeats firmly. Lost, gone, along with all other things that died with her heartbeat. Could've beens, would've beens, should've beens. "Stop saying that" she screeches, her eyes burning with tears she can't cry. "Maybe I was dead, but I'm not anymore. I came back from the dead." He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes raking over her whole body. It's the first time, in her half death that she has been embarrassed about her looks. Embarrassed about her perfect body, her angular features, and her golden eyes. Eyes: dark and expressive. Lips: chapped and pink. Knees: scraped and perfect. He looks at her for a moment longer, trying to find something, anything, in her empty eyes.
"I don't believe in ghosts." He finally says, in his firm, dead voice. She starts to protest, but he holds up his hand to silence her.
"What's dead is dead" he calls as he turns on his heel and walks away "And I buried you a long time ago."
First beach had always been their place. It was where they first met; it was where he first fell in love with her, and where she broke his very first heart.
For the rest of her never-ending life, Isabella would always remember First Beach as their place. Ironic symmetry be damned. Even as time marches on, and all worldly things are lost in the abyss, their place remains. Etched into the rocks, and remembered by the eternal sea.
And it's kind of nice to know that something's never change. Even in death.