So...not as angsty as I originally planned, but this song literally grabbed me and screamed "WRITE THIS" so...I did.
Disclaimer: Nope, Twilight still isn't mine. Or Edward. Or Switchfoot. Or their song, Only Hope. Or Jon Foreman. No matter how much I want any of them...not mine.
There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold
But you sing to me over and over again
The curse of being eternally awake is eternally thinking. Even attempting to rest and calm down did nothing for my racing mind. For the first time in decades, I truly felt restless. Laying on my couch and attempting to read was not the respite I sought.
The house was unusually quiet as I walked quietly from my room. Alice and Jasper were hunting, Carlisle and Esme likely with them; Rosalie and Emmett were…honestly, I'd rather not think of what they were likely doing. It would be bad enough hearing their thoughts whenever they came home.
So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands
And pray to be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope
My hands gently danced over the ivory keys. Playing music would be a comforting escape, indeed. But what to play?
Without thinking, I began to plan Clair de Lune. And yet, it sounded odd to my ears. I withdrew my hands abruptly, frustrated. This was supposed to put my mind at ease, not irritate me.
Sing to me the song of the stars
Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again
When it feels like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again
After a calming breath, I placed my fingers on the keys again. This time, I let them find the music.
The song was not one I knew; I could not even remember hearing it. The melody was soothing, yet slightly haunting. When my hands finally consented to stop, I wrote the notes on a blank piece of sheet music.
The song had the feel of a lullaby, with underlying pain and promises. To put it simply, it was puzzling. What on earth had I written?
And I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope
My fingers ached to play it again; I acquiesced. My thoughts were on the reason for this beautiful music. I had never felt so desperate to write a song (for I knew now that this song was the cause of my restlessness) nor had I been so puzzled by what a song meant.
"That is a beautiful song."
"Thank you, Esme." I allowed the music to trail off before turning on the piano bench to face my 'mother.' She was smiling peacefully. She clearly knew something I didn't and she was intentionally keeping me out of her head (sometimes, she just wanted to talk like I couldn't read her mind; it's a reasonable request).
"Do you know why I wrote this?"
I give you my apathy
I'm giving you all of me
I want your symphony
Singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs
I'm giving it back
Esme just smiled more at my perplexed expression and crossed the room to face me. She put a hand on each of my shoulders in that knowing motherly way.
"There is no coincidence that you wrote a love song that is also a lullaby." I frowned. Love song?
"The girl, Bella. You wrote this for her." Esme smiled even more before walking towards the door.
"After all," she added before gliding out the door, "Vampires need no lullabies."
I wrote a lullaby for a human girl? Esme thought I was in love with her? I was not. She was just interesting…and tempting…and fragile…and perfect.
Dear God, I'm in love with a human.
And I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope
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