/begin.

Jacob's head pounds unbearably. (In addition to his heart.) The pounding is like a fateful blow to his head every time; the pain increasing with each passing blow. His senses dull and fade in some areas, but grow stronger and sharper still in others. A tremor shudders down his back, and he burns with a raging fever.

"Don't, Jacob. Not until you are outside." Billy's voice jolted Jacob from his condition.

Jacob grumbled some profanity under his breath. But Billy left him in peace. He knew Jacob hurt, and he would leave him alone.

Stepping outside, a cool breeze wisps across Jacob's face. He shivers, but not because it is cold. A sweet scent fills the air. It fills Jacob's body with a wave of heartbreaking agony. It was ludicrous to become as troubled as he did. To hurt like this. But the aroma reminded him of the only person who could fill his heart with panic. Yet he couldn't bring himself to think of her.

Or could he? He knew that she was the only thing he thought of these days. While trying to forget her, she only sank deeper into his heart. Only became harder to forget, easier to remember. Now he had no escape. Every exit was cut off. Changing to his werewolf form was all wrong. He had done that already. He had run as far and as fast as he ever had before. But, now he couldn't leave his thoughts behind, and that meant everyone else had to hear his thoughts too.

He walks slowly, gently down to First Beach. The ocean waves crash down. The sound fills his ears. It is a soothing sound. It is a sound that has been his comfort throughout these long days and nights. His room is too small to even just pace back and forth in. The beach has plenty of space; plenty of room for Jacob and his bitter thoughts.

Jacob eyes search restlessly across the beautiful landscape around him. He tries to take in anything he can, anything to distract his thoughts from her. The sand feels cool beneath his burning skin. The plants sway in the wind. And there is the moon shining on the water.

The moon.

Jacob's always associated Bella her with the moon. The moon and she are beautiful and soft, with ivory-pallid complexion, and lovely detailed features; simple and natural, but alluring and sweet. There was one difference, though. Bella had been within his grasp, and he had let her slip through.

"Bella."
He forced the words from his mouth. They fell out and he felt exhilaration at the fact that he could still speak her name. For a moment, at least, till the pain hit him again and he realizes that he just did what he meant not to do.

He lowers his body towards the ground and sits. He crosses his legs and sits Indian style.

His thoughts run on carelessly. It all leads back to one thing.

He just sits there, as if waiting for something to happen.