Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
And then he looked at me. "You know that's not true. You know what I felt for you was real, was tangible, and was way a helluva lot more substantial than what you think you feel for him right now."
"You don't know what I'm thinking right now, you can't even possibly fathom it. Stop for one second and think of this: there's a chance that you're not as fucking hot as you think you are and that I have about zero of the feelings left for you that you think I do. What we had was great. It was great when you weren't being awkward and confusing and mysterious. It was great. Not is great. You have to let me move on, Edward. Just let me go."
"I'm not holding you here, Bella. There's nothing holding you here. Or, maybe there is…"
I cut him off. "There are plenty of things holding me here! My dad, for one! And Alice, she shouldn't have to suffer because you're such a dickhead!"
"You're right, Alice and your Dad are valid reasons to hold you to this town. But, not to hold you here… Why do you always end up here? In my house? In my face? I'll tell you why, you end up here because you belong here, and your stupid thick head won't even let you realize it."
"Who are you to tell me where I do and do not belong?"
"I'm fucking Edward Cullen, Bella. I'm the first boy you loved, the first and only boy you ever thought about marrying, and the first boy you ever made love to. And I'd do anything to be the last man you'll ever love, the last man you'll ever think about marrying, the only man you actually do marry, and the last man you'll ever make love to."
I wanted to protest, tell him I'd thought about marrying Jacob thousands of times, planned it out in my head and replayed it over and over. But I couldn't. I wanted to tell him that I'd never return here again, I'd make Alice come see me, and I'd never go anywhere near him again. But I couldn't.
That motherfucker could read me like a book.
I looked at him. "This is ridiculous."
He flashed his glorious crooked smile at me. "That's love for ya, sweetheart." And then, there he was, hot and solid in my arms, kissing me with a fervor that had me responding even before I knew I was going to respond.
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.
This is not what I had come for!
Or, was it?
Could I really have carried this off subconsciously? Did my mind want to tell me something and my heart wouldn't let it, so this is what it did?
Packed itself up and drove itself back to Forks, Washington?
Back to home?
It did feel like home. His lips were like my freaking blanket I'd had since I was a baby. His hands were like the bed I'd slept in for 18 years of my life. His hair fell over my hands in waves, and right then and there it clicked for me.
I was going to live in Forks, Washington for the rest of my damn life with Edward Cullen.
It was going to be fucking fantastic.
So, I kissed him back.
Author's Note: I don't know where this came from. But I liked it.