She fell in my life, and I in hers.
She was my sweet summer warmth that everyone clung to, and I? I was her dark winter night, the kind sending chills down her spine, but she welcomed them.
She looks at me with innocence, trust, even love, yet she knows everything I'm capable of. Why wont she run? or scream? or push me away? is she stupid, is she sick? Does she want to die?
These question flooded my mind, but in a brief way. I was happy as ever after getting fully acquainted. She was interesting.
I found out her wish of death weeks before our trip. It thrilled and scared me stupid all at once. Her desperation was eminent on the plane. She grabbed my shoulder tugging with excitement.
I wanted to kiss her so she'd stop, but I feard my haste would get the best of me.
A night after the devastating war, the survivors returned. I remember sitting on the couch in the sunroom, she was in my lap, her face in my hands wet with rivers of glimmering remorse. She enjoyed seeing my skin sparkle when the moonlight carried through the roof windows, and looking into my golden eyes. She is so soft, but so breakable as Edward had said. My beautiful Bella. Her neck was over my shoulder then, and I sighed. It was overly tempting, the pulsating as she heaved human breaths, in and out. She was upset, crying those tears I absolutely hated. My embrace calmed the shaking.
By no stretch of the imagination could any of the prior events been prevented, my visions failed the moment Jane entered my mind. Then just like that, the Volturi had won. The wolf and my brother, who fought with all they had, were lifeless on the ground.
Now it was my job to pick up the pieces of the one they cared for most. Bring the girl I knew back to the way she used to be.
I would whisper sweet nothings to her now, winding my fingers through soft brown when her voice broke, and carried her upstairs unsure of my next move.