THIS IS A REPOST (my other account was hacked)
"Where all those merciless vampires had not been able to finish me off, hope would do the job."-Bella, New Moon.
Edward had been sitting in the same spot for nearly two hours now, holding his legs close to himself at the left side of her bed, hunched but still stiff and lost in scrutiny. For the better part of those two hours he had been contemplating the ruffled back of her mahogany head. But, like a flower bends toward the sun, Bella eventually turned her face towards him to be nourished by the moonlight reflecting off his faceted skin.
His fine tuned ears could pinpoint every sigh, whimper, titter and cry that escaped her rose petal lips throughout the long night, and he was obliged to look on with a face blacked by helplessness.
"Please, please," Bella would choke out, back arching and face contracting in imaginary agony. Before her pleas could even fully drop from her teeth, his hand was glacial against the stretch of flawless, enticing flesh that was the hollow beneath her ear, grasp firm and gentle in the same second.
"Yes, yes, anything, my love," He vowed, marble mouth lingering atop hers. If he could force the rivers of venom from his achingly dry ocher eyes he would have, let the acid stain his face and invade his mouth to prove to her what a lowly excuse for a being he was.
He sighed an uneven breath, and Bella sniffed a little in her sleep. It was as though their minds were in the same place, even with unconciousness to block her from seeing his momentary weakness.
How had he not realized the stupidity of his decision before? It felt as though he were seeing Tyler's van spin maddeningly towards the girl again, except he stepped aside to allow it to cut her frail body in half this time. As though he had found her body broken and reeking sweetly of her life's floral essence, reflective glass covering her like a frightening dress, except he was idly watching her float to the black arms of death. Utter helplessness. How could a vampire be so utterly useless?
How pitiful his family must have thought him.
He thought with grave humor of the bets Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and even he liked to place against each other for how long Jasper could stand to be in his presence. He thought of Jasper's quiet curses, two fingers pressing hard against his temple as he forced himself to endure each flaming tongue of his brother's deep depression. Alice and Esme thought it completely cruel while Carlisle moderately disapproved, yet Edward assured them he held no hard feelings, and that he even played up the intense agony sometimes for the sake of entertainment.
No matter how they all felt, they kept quiet, other than the unidentifiable look behind their golden eyes when they appraised his condition. He didn't want to imagine how it was for her, without even the ability to tell someone the truth of what had happened.
The noise that ripped from her throat then confused him, as did the flailing of her limbs.
For a second, his vampire mind considered what it would be like if he sat motionless and simply wallowed in the-there wasn't a word for what her screams made him feel, but self pity and fear were close enough-intensity of her cry. In the next second he was at her side, she was warm in his lap, clutching and awake. He whispered everything, everything he could think to whisper to make her believe him again, but he couldn't help but be reminded of a person with short-term memory loss, or Alzheimer's, even. He would promise her, persuade her every day, but sleep would wash upon her like an ocean and take with it all knowledge of the past week.
She could only remember the pain that had been ingrained in her in that one, vital moment in the forest. In a way, she was still lying numb among the wet moss and earth right now, and he was still the wicked traitor.
"Edward, Edward. I knew, I knew you would leave again. Please. I'll jump again and you'll come back, come back, back." He tried not to snap her shoulderblades with the power of his suddenly rigid body. Realizing things more quickly than she had been the nights before, she gasped after the words left her unwilling mouth. "I'm sorry, Edward..."
Silence.
"Edward? It was just a dream."
Silence.
"Isabella. If I am ever absent from your life again, it will be because one of us no longer has a life." She grimaced then, but he continued unadulterated. "I would wear the cape of the Volturi before I left you, I," He paused here and deliberated, "..I would drain your body of every infernal drop of blood it has before I chose to live without you again."
She looked shocked, but he was still pumping every bit of ferver he could muster into his eyes for her to see and judge.
"Jump," He urged, ragged with agony, "If I catch you this time will you believe me?"
He could smell the salt when she began crying again and he rocked her, knowing that she believed him.
"Forgive me," He whispered firmly. "Before you wake, before you wake again."
Fin.