Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Bare with me, okay? After seeing The Time Traveler's Wife, I wanted to see something like this. . .

The sun was a sharp sight to stare into, especially when you looked for too long. Eventually all you would come to see are the barely visible dots of blurry color that surround it, but throughout the years this phenomenon has been explained in many different ways. All of them were the same in a way—the tale of imprinting was always bathed in a good light, the teller always breathing in their as if he were happy to be alive, but I never saw what was so wonderful about seeing the sun for the first time. It was the color of throw up, made you sweat, and was too bright. Oh,wait. What was that they called it again? Yes, I remember—

Destiny.

As if one word could justify what was basically love—love that was prearranged by fate as though we were all wooden puppets, and our strings were being pulled at merciless. I felt pity for the wolves, because they would never get the chance to really fall in love with their so-called soul mates, and they would never really have a choice, or freewill of their own. Imprinting was an unbreakable contract, chaining you to your significant other for life. Whatever they wanted, the wolf would have to obey.

The worst part of it was that out of some cruel disaster, I was "meant to be" with Jacob Black since birth—possibly even before that, but I had found out recently. Can you believe it? My best friend, of seven and a half years now, had imprinted on me? Me? The person who could take the prize for hating the very idea of forced love, and destiny had to go and ruin everything I had with Jacob. All this time I thought he honestly fell in love me, despite everything. In spite of my outbursts of idiocy, my stubbornness, my ability to trip over just about anything, and let's not forget that I was half-vampire. I thought Jacob loved me for just being who I am out of his own, but I was severely wrong.

He loved me because of stupid destiny forcing him to.

"It's not like that, Nessie," Jacob sighed, exasperated at this point. We were sitting in the quietness of my room as my parents celebrated their eighth wedding anniversary downstairs. "Why won't you talk to me about this?"

I rolled my eyes, fighting to remain my composure. The last thing I wanted was for my ex-boyfriend to see me fall to shattered glass. For the last three months I had been ignoring him, but he clearly wasn't taking the hint. Couldn't he tell that I didn't want to be around him anymore?

"I hate that stupid name," I lied. He had been calling me 'Nessie' since I was baby, and I had never minded it. "I thought if I told you to leave me alone that's what you were supposed to do?"

"Call it a glitch," Jacob replied, crossing his arms. I couldn't help but thinking that he looked so handsome in that beige tuxedo with the white dress shirt unbuttoned. "Nes—Renesmee—I do love you."

I shook my head. Jacob was apparently blinded by this curse. "No, Jacob, you don't. You can't."

"And why not?" Jacob inquired, raising the tone of his voice. He stood up from the end of my bed, growing infuriated with me. If only I could make him understand.

"Because you deserve much better than me, Jacob, and I don't want to ruin your life." I blinked back the acid-like tears building in my eyes, careful not to look directly into Jacob's eyes—otherwise, the emotion would come spilling out. If I was going to get this conversation over with, I couldn't cry. "I'm sorry, Jake. I am so sorry for ruining your life."

"Ruining my life?" Jacob demanded incredulously, and then he sighed softly. He took a seat back on the bed, but this time he sat closer to me. It was all I could do not to lace my tiny, porcelain fingers around his long, copper ones. "Nessie," he paused, testing the waters, and waiting to see if I corrected him. I should have, but I desperately was hanging off of his every word as if he were retelling me of the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. Honestly, I just wanted to hear his masculine, smooth voice. "You saved me."

I hated when Jacob made me sound like some sort of savior when all I've ever done for him was destroy any chances he had of escaping a life of having to deal with "bloodsuckers" and anything else that was supernatural. His devotion to me kept him rooted in Forks, but how could I make him see that? If only Jacob hated me enough to just move on with his life.

"No, I didn't. You would have saved yourself, Jacob. You don't me in your life."

Jacob reached out a hand, gently caressing my cheek with his thumb. He titled my chin upward, and made me look into his forest-brown eyes.

"I've always needed you, Renesmee," Jake whispered as his touch practically set my skin afire.

"That's a lie that I refuse to live by." With that, I moved from bed and headed downstairs. I knew if I was going to act so uninterested in Jacob, I would at least need some alcohol in my system. A few drinks never hurt anybody, right?

One of the waiters smiled, the ruby color in his brown eyes gleaming with cunning. He probably wanted to make me drunk enough to get me into bed, which I wasn't objecting to honestly. A part of me wanted to be drunk enough so that I could forget about stupid Jacob Black for a night.

"Could I offer you something to cure your thirst, Miss Cullen?" The waiter questioned, titling the silver tray towards me.

"Nessie," Jacob interjected, gently grasping at my wrists, "will you hear me out?"

"No, I will not. Go away," I replied, my hand reaching for a glass of vodka, but I received nothing. Jacob was too strong. I struggled until I was face to face with Jake. "What do you want from me?"

Jacob sighed, loosening his grip. "Nessie, I. . .—I still want to be in your life, in any way you'll have me, but don't make me walk away from this."

I shrugged sloppily. "Fine, then I'll have to do everything in my power to stay away from you. Trust me, Jacob. I'm good at ruining lives. I mean, just look at you. You're definitely under the impression that what we have is real."

"It's real for me!" He proclaimed loudly, making my head spin at his words. There was nothing more I wanted to do right now than hold him to me, and believe that Jacob needed me like I needed him, but it would be true.

"I'm doing what's best for you, Jacob, just as you've always done for me."

He let me go completely, leaving my hands free to reach for a drink. Jacob walked away, probably going to get something stronger than vodka to get hammered off of. Thankfully, the waiter was still there, smiling like a snake.

"Vodka, ma'am?"

I flashed him a smirk, letting him know that I am nowhere near being that easy to win over, but I reached for the bottle of alcohol, and took a giant swig into my mouth. I was ready to be reckless for a change.

Set just above the bleach white clouds, the yellow sun shed its sharp, golden light, and colored the sky tangerine. However, it was not the warmth of the rays that filled my very soul with overwhelming sorrow; it had been the electric cerulean water that beckoned me. The wind wrapped around me, swaying along with my curls of bronze hair. I could the atmosphere pushing gravity down on my shoulders; the weight quickly seeped into my heart.

Lifting the glass bottle of vodka, I stole one last swig of the disgusting fluid, and then let it slip through my hands. Next, I unraveled the blue scarf around my neck, and it flew to the spot next to the bottle, on the sand. Finally, my legs carried me forward into the freezing waters. I heard everything tell me not to, but I had to answer to the sweet seduction of the blue siren's song.

I wanted so much to have the water swallow me whole.

I sucked in a greedy breath of air before I forced myself under the cerulean sheet, knowing it would take at least fifteen minutes until I was completely unable to breathe. By then, I would be far enough out in ocean that no one would be able to reach me as I make the attempt to drown myself. After all, my half-human side needs so much air, and the lack of oxygen will eventually be my undoing. So, I decide to simply wait for my death.

. . .

. . .

I thought of Jacob Black, wondering that if it weren't for the imprinting, would he even care that I was drowning myself. Would he try to save me? There had been a time before he laid eyes on me when all he wanted to do was destroy me—the murderer who was responsible for her own mother's death. Jacob was being irrational at the time, but it was because of me—I took away his whole world—that he was so tempted to kill a baby. Had he not imprinted I would be dead anyway, so in a way. . . I was giving Jacob his wish. I was doing the best thing I could for him.

Perhaps now that I was taking myself out of the picture, Jacob would find true happiness in the arms of someone he could choose to love. Somehow he would find the will to move on, and search for her. He would stop phasing eventually, and remain in all of his human perfection so that he could watch his children grow up alongside with his wife. They would just like their father, and no girl would stand a chance.

I began to feel my eyelids drooping heavily over my irises, yet I don't fight the urge to fall asleep in the ocean of all places. Instead, I embraced the need and floated on my front half on the surface of the water. Soon enough, my world started spiraling with color, until I felt nothing at all except a sharp pain in my soul. A part of me knew how broken Jacob would be once he found out I was gone, thanks to destiny.

Before I let the blackness take me over, I managed one last thought.

My Jacob.

I feel a breath being forced into my lungs, and I realized at this point I am still alive because of some fool feeling the need to be my hero. Regardless, I choke out water and the life comes rushing back into my chest as my eyes snapped open.

I could barely make out the face of my savior as it seemed there were two of them, then one. He had long, jet black hair, copper skin, and eyes the color of the bark on an oak tree. My heart was filled with joy upon seeing the way he smiled, aware that I was still holding on, but he seemed so different. He was only slightly smaller than I had expected, and weary? A different kind of weary.

"Jacob?" I groaned in inquiry, sitting up.

The man tilted his head to the side, genuinely perplexed by the all too familiar line I uttered. I wanted to laugh at him, but thought against it as I sensed that there was something extremely different him since the last time I had seen him; was it possible to regress in size in forty-five minutes?

"Do I know you?"