A/N: I've been getting over the flu and when I'm sick I guess my writing tends to be more angsty and depressing than usual (if that's even possible), so…sorry about that.
Disclaimer: Only 'cause I haven't done one in a while. But, no, I don't own anything. So don't sue me. Please.
--
Now I don't know where I am
I don't know where I've been
But I know where I want to go
And so I thought I'd let you know
- Bright Eyes; First Day of My Life
--
She enters his house the same way she always has – a smile crawling on to her cheeks like she doesn't want it to be there, shuffling her feet over his ground, dirty and wet (two things she can no longer be).
His throat catches when he sees the awkward footsteps turned light and easy, the prime dancer in her own little show. Jacob was never very good at dancing (and Bella was never very good at being in the spotlight).
Maybe some things do change with time.
--
The day he got the call, he ignored Billy's hard be careful's and phased a second out the door. It wasn't easy getting the rest of the pack to leave, but he managed it, and when he landed at the cemetery he almost expected to find a body underneath the plain tomb with the familiar lettering.
(He almost wishes he did)
In the dark, Jacob's big frame was endless, relentless, and the moonlight was sucked dry as he watched the stars from underneath his half-closed lids.
He didn't wash his fingernails for weeks, and somehow the black stains made the loss feel a little more permanent.
She broke his heart, and he's the one left laying flowers on her gravestone.
--
The last few years are flying through his head as he watches her on his couch, her pale legs crossed in a perfect twist. He is holding his breath and he knows that she is too, but it can't last that long and soon he is drowning in her scent.
She smells like death. Sweet and overbearing and toxic – and he has never wanted to die more than in that moment.
There is a demon in his living room and it's wearing Bella's face.
(And all he wants to do is hold her)
--
"So…tomorrow," she said, looking at their feet. He kept on moving his to the music, faint now, and bit his lip to stop from screaming.
"Tomorrow, huh?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"That's soon," he muttered, still not reaching her gaze. She looked up at him and took his chin in her thin fingers, turning it down and stepping on the tops of her toes until they were almost face-to-face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and he could feel her breath now, warm and sweet.
He shrugged. "I'll miss you."
He could see the tears filling the corners of her eyes. "It doesn't have to be this way, Jake, really. We could still –"
He stopped her by pressing his lips to hers. She held on tighter to his jaw now, her fingernails digging into the skin. He could taste the salt on her lips.
"It does," he murmured, his mouth centimeters away from hers. His voice was rough as he let out a low chuckle. "We never had a chance, did we?"
--
She wrings her hands but it's not as endearing as Jacob remembers it to be. It's…graceful. Precise. Measured. Her hair is shiny and her waist is small and to anyone else, the straight nose and clear skin might be construed as beautiful.
He misses the cuts and asymmetry.
"How's married life?" he asks, and the sharpness in his voice seems to surprise her.
Bella – or, the vampire that used to be her – purses her perfect lips.
"It's…" Her voice is higher, smoother, but there is a tone that reaches his ears and it still reminds him of rain and amber, like it always has. He waits for her to finish. "I didn't come here to talk about that."
"Then tell me," Jacob says, "why did you come here, Mrs. Cullen?"
Her eyes are just as beautiful in gold. "I can't stay away from you."
His heart breaks. It's not the first time, but it still hurts.
--
Her voice on the other line of the old black telephone made him shake. His came out in a growl, low and angry.
"What do you want, Bella?"
"I just want to talk," she said. It was the uneven quality that ticked him off – she was crying. She was human. Part of him wanted to rejoice and part of him just wanted her to leave him alone.
"What about?" he asked, but he was softer now; careful.
"I…" He could hear her breaths coming quick and short, muffled from the distance. "I'm scared."
"Well, I'm sorry," he snapped, angry now. He could feel the rip, deep in his chest, and he held a hand against it, his words sounding strained. "But what part of 'mortal enemy' is so hard to understand, Bells?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, so quiet now that he doubted he could've heard her had it not been for his supernatural senses. "I love you."
Another sharp pain – he couldn't control the whimper that left his throat. "Bella –"
The line went dead.
--
It doesn't take long for him to kiss her. It's not like the last time: it's hard and cold and it hurts, and it isn't really Bella that he's kissing. He knows all this, but he can't stop.
Time moves slowly in this place, and sometimes it seems like the only thing you can control is what you do with it. Jacob isn't afraid of the monsters under the bed – because he is one.
He's afraid of love.
It doesn't seem so weak when he's counting the scars still left on his broken form, and when her body is against his, ice and sugar and altogether too much, time doesn't really matter anymore.
He whispers to her in the darkness but it isn't the same as before. Jacob has the strength, but he doesn't have the time. It's easy not to be afraid of death when you know you haven't wasted your life away.
Jacob's still afraid (and it isn't enough).
(It never was)
--
The ring of the receiver is sharp in his ears. He ignores the wetness at the corners of his eyes and croaks out a breath.
"Bella. Hi. I… just had to talk to you, I guess. It's stupid and…I know it doesn't make a difference, but…I really will miss you. I'm not just saying that. Because – to me – this is it. This is your eulogy, your final words, your last hurrah, whatever – this is goodbye.
"Because, honey…I can't see you alive when I can't hear you breath, or know you're warm and destructible – as crazy as that sounds – and not because of the whole treaty thing but because there is nothing about you I love more than you, yourself, your soul.
"The only thing I can promise you is that I will never forget you. All the time I've spent with you and this love and this pain and everything about you…it'll be in me. My heart. I'll keep your blushes and your tears and your kisses inside of me, forever, because love doesn't die along with you, Bells – it just gets lost. And you can say that I'm too young to understand, but…that's one thing that I do know. I love you. Forever. Even when mine isn't quite the same as yours.
"Bye, Bella."
--
The sky turns black and Jacob looks at the stars, picking out the constellations in this beautiful mess of silver and blue. He turns to the fire beside him, burning bright and violet in this overwhelming heat, sick and ragged and broken.
He lets the tears fall like the blood from his hand, washing away and fading into a little pink scar – in some ways, he is sorry. He is dying and no one will ever know.
The world will keep turning, continuous and endless and uncontrollable, waiting for the light to break through again.
--
END