James isn't my maker, not yet. I hope that someday I'll be strong enough. That I can prove he should make me hard and beautiful, like him. He's not human, like I am - he's a hunter. A killer with skin like marble, that glitters like diamonds in the sunlight. He is most beautiful creature I've ever seen, and the most deadly.
He walks through the world, and it doesn't touch him, all the dirt, all the pain. It's a buzzing insect that he bats away, without a second thought. I envy his indifference.
He tells me that I have potential and I cling to that, when I'm cold and lonely. When he leaves me to walk alone in the world, while he hunts. In the dark hours while I await his return, I hold onto the hope that I will be at his side to hunt, one day. Someday soon.
I wait in an all-night laundromat, because it's Tuesday and that's the schedule I keep, no matter which city we're in. I mark time by the human calendar, it comforts me and helps me countdown to my death, and rebirth.
I turn my attention from the spiraling socks and underwear to the other occupants. Washed out faces and droopy eyes meet mine, and I move on. Everyone here doesn't belong, not like I do. They are tired of night. I've been waiting for it like an anxious lover, since yesterday's sunrise. As I pass my little judgments on each person, I come to stop at the sight of sunglasses and blood red lips. A large pink bubble blooms from between those luscious, full lips and then ruptures with a small pop. She retracts the limp pink balloon of gum back between the red shining lips and I lick my own.
She puts a cigarette to her lips and takes in a long breath of smoke before pulling it away and returning her eyes to a beaten copy of The Fountainhead. I groan a little too loud and see her eyes fix on me. An eyebrow raises as smoke snakes from her mouth in lazy stream.
She doesn't say anything, just stands up and walks over to me. The sharp click of her heels on the cement seems to echo off the back of my skull. She settles into the hard plastic seat next to me as a cloud of cheap perfume assaults my nose. It's fruity and flowery, overpowering with its sweetness. I tilt my head from side to side, trying to work out the tension her presence is causing.
The book is still open in her hand, I can see some drawings, stick figures arranged in different sexual positions in the margins of the pages. It strikes me as charming, and I smile.
"You a fan?" She snaps her gum and tips the ashes from her cigarette onto my shoe, like a challenge. I shake my head, still smiling. "Yeah, me either." Her beautiful lips twist in a sneer as she closes the book and tosses it onto the seat on the other side of her. "It makes me laugh," she says with a shrug as her eyes skim over me. I shift, uncomfortable with her proximity. I haven't talked to another human in so long, too long. I don't know what to say, as she smirks at me.
"I'm Bella." She flashes her white teeth at me and holds out her small hand. I stare at the bright red nails, noting that their color doesn't match her lipstick, but I don't touch her. She watches me closely as she pulls her hand back and shifts, angling her body towards me. "Do I make you nervous?" She looks like she wants me to say yes, but I shake my head, my mouth itching in one corner. Bella looks disappointed and I suddenly move my hand, before I realizing I'm doing it. I hook a finger on the corner of her glasses and slowly slide them from her face. She watches me closely, not saying a word.
Seeing her face unbroken by the dark line of the glasses, stirs something in me. I am frozen as I watch her mouth open slightly, those gaudy lips making a small "o." I think of James and drop the sunglasses. They make a soft clack as they hit the floor and I'm moving towards the door, my eyes stinging with something I don't quite understand.
"Where are you going?" she calls after me, but I don't answer. I can't answer.
Edward is running again, fucking coward. I'm getting so tired of his games, of his heartache, his weakness. So frail and sensitive, so... human. I am far too tolerant of these episodes. I watch him struggle and flail like an bug on its back and my venom rises like bile in the back of my throat.
He can't even handle the simple matter of meeting a woman. Not that this Bella is just any woman. I watch her as she picks up her sunglasses and slides them back into place. Pretty little Bella and her little plastic armor. I lick my lips, 'cause I know that I am going to break that armor and that little girl, but not tonight. Tonight, I need to feed. I turn to the dark face of the city, taking in its scent, the heady boutique making me hard. I'll leave Edward to his moping and search for prey.
Author's note:
Many thanks to MsKathy, for...everything.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to this story - all copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners.