Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer
Summary: We've all heard how the werewolves feel about Imprinting but how do those they imprinted on feel about it? On hypocrisy, love and the darker side of ever after.
It sounds like something out of a fairytale. But this is reality that we live in. In a bedtime story, the Prince and Princess fall in love at first sight and live happily ever after.
What if that instantaneous connection was felt only by the Prince? What if all the Beauty saw was the Beast? What would you feel if a hulking, six foot giant stared intently at you from across the street? Love? Or an uneasy fear?
Wherever you try to run, he catches up. And he explains, with that gentle adoration shining out of his eyes. He looks at you as though you are the centre of his universe and you feel a heavy responsibility settle around your shoulders.
No matter how many times he tells you that he will love you no matter what, you feel as though you have certain expectations to fulfil. You must reciprocate his love with the same intensity that he so obviously feels. You must be perfect. Because you know that he has you on a pedestal so high that if you fall you will never land.
Sometimes you find yourself wondering about it all. Is your relationship a mere farce based on his unnatural hormones or is it something real? What is your relationship based on, after all?
He says he loved you passionately from the first time he laid eyes on you. But what about your other qualities? What about that fine singing voice you are so proud of or your talent in art? He didn't see those at first sight so does he not love them?
There are days when you feel powerful beyond measure. You look at him and think, "He is mine." You control his life more than the Lord who created him. The power causes an adrenalin rush in your body. Is this rush affection? Or the same heady rush of supremacy that dictators and autocrats feel?
Sometimes you ask him to do some trivial thing in a soft, pleading voice with your eyes wide and lashes fluttering. You see him swallow as his awed eyes rest upon you and you feel mischievous. You could make him do anything, anything at all.
But sometimes you feel exasperation and even anger. You are only human, after all, even if he isn't. But after a single harsh sentence escapes your mouth he looks devastated. You feel guilt creeping up on you. However seeing that only makes him sadder. You're caught in a strange web, unable to cry no matter how much you long for the simple release of emotions that tears bring. For his sake, you must be eternally strong.
When he leaves to fight alongside his brothers you are anxious. You wait for him to return, pacing through the hall with others trapped in the same anticipation. The old men wait with bright eyes for news of victory.
Your thoughts are different and you are glad that no one can see them because there are times when you want them to lose; when you want the battle to end, once and for all. You are tired of the continuous war. You are sick of waiting on tenterhooks to find out whether the one you reluctantly love is alive or not. You want it to end, one way or the other.
It is in dreadful times like these that poisonous thoughts enter your head and you try, desperately, to block them. If he died, you would be free. But you love him. Despite it all, you do.
When you first saw the massive wolf your human reaction was fear of the large predator. He comforted you, told you that he was a protector. You weren't convinced but you could see how your fear hurt him. So you wiped your eyes and then smiled at him. His elation was almost worth it. But deep down, you were still just a little bit afraid of those sharp teeth and curved claws.
He loves you so much that you can convince yourself that you love him too. It isn't difficult. Life with him is much easier than life would be with any other man. There are no fights, no chance of heartbreak. He would never even dream of another girl. No, if anything goes wrong in the relationship, you know that it will be entirely your fault.
Slowly, as life goes on, little things about him that you barely noticed in the beginning begin to irritate you. He doesn't age. So you wind up feeling like a cougar at your school reunion. You barely take a sip of the drink being passed around and leave quickly because you just can't handle the winks from your former girlfriends.
You picked your furniture out carefully, coordinating it with the curtains, the lampshade, the carpet and the TV. So you can't help yelling at him when he smells a vampire and transforms, even though you know that your furnishings will be useless if your body is sucked dry of blood. But still, despite knowing the greater scheme of things, you don't appreciate the shreds of your couch lying on the floor.
His warm body used to be a comfort to you. Now, in the middle if the Indian summer, you rack up a humongous bill for air conditioning sleeping next to him.
You itch to slap him. To shout, to argue, to scream. To fight it out the way all married couples do. But you can't. Leaving aside the fact that slapping him would probably break not just your hand but your whole arm, you still feel like the Wicked Witch of the West screaming at a guy who looks at you with sorrowful eyes the whole time.
There comes a day when you catch a glimpse of him. Your loved one's most hated enemy. You've been told that he's a cold killer who won't hesitate to hunt you. But damn, he's sexy. His bronze head shoots up at that stray thought and his golden eyes are fixed on your face. He's shocked. You give him a small smile which he hesitantly returns before turning away. You see his siblings and all thoughts of him leave your mind as you eye the blonde one speculatively. His smile has turned into a full blown grin by now.
Later, you learn of his mind reading abilities and feel sick to the core at the intrusion. But by now you're used to having your personal space invaded so you shrug it off without too much drama. You just hope that he doesn't tell the love of your life about it.
Whenever you see a good-looking man on the street you feel a small surge of attraction. You haven't been biologically tied to someone so you can't always resist the urge to chat with a charming stranger. You don't mean anything by it, of course.
But your love's utter devotion to you makes you feel ashamed and you always wind up walking away abruptly.
It's a twisted world and your love story certainly isn't the perfect one, not by a long shot.
But then, perfection was always overrated.
Author's Notes: While I do like Twilight, I'm trying to explore its darker side through this fic. No offense intended to fans of the series! What do you think of Imprinting? True love or a complete farce? Leave a review!