The Unattainable
The mind is a labyrinthine coil of imaginings and actualities, reflecting one's subterranean elements, incapable of being cloaked.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer Owns Twilight
OOC
Rated M for :
Language, Angst, Sexual Material, Some violence
Give me sweet emptiness and
My night of black
Darkness as cover over every
Sinful thought of
Mine
I will be nothingness.
-Lilandee Scheepers
He stares at the beautifully handcrafted card in his hand, laced with twirling ribbon. He can't bring himself to look away from the evidence of his worst nightmare he thought would never possibly come true. The paper bends, twisting the words Mr and Mrs. Edward Cullen as his hands finally clamp, his muscles unable to loosen as the wedding announcement crumbles in his fist.
She isn't his. He knows that now. It's finally over. He doesn't have to fight anymore for her love. He doesn't have to stay awake every night, crying until his eyes ache, screaming into the quiet, dark house, begging and pleading for her to change her mind...yet that is exactly what he does. It's too late. Although she is Mrs. Cullen and there is nothing he can do to change that, he calls for her in the night.
He is alone in his small bedroom, wallowing in self pity and the torment of knowing her beautiful soul will perish soon. His father knows not to disturb him or something in the old, beloved little house would undoubtedly meet an ugly fate at his grieving son's twitching hands.
He stays solitude in this dark and terrible night...nobody dare disturbs him. He unbuttons the fancy white shirt and loosens his tie, tugging it from his body. He is alone and he knows it, nobody would dare speak to him or show their face this night. This night...her wedding night...he is to be left alone. He wonders what her first night as a married woman is like. Is she asking her husband to take her clothes off? Is she kissing his icy, stone lips? His chest? His stomach? His …
He screams in disgust as his fist smashes through his bedroom window, the shards spraying everywhere, slicing his hands, his arm, and his smooth, russet cheek. He lets out a sob and falls in a heap on top of the glass particles sparkling against his bed linens. His face is already healing.
His eyes widen at the glittering glass atop his bed and he roars, clutching his blankets and tearing them from his bed...shoving the evil reminders of her sparkling husband away from his sleeping space.
This is not him. This is not Jacob Black, the one who never cries, never falls apart, never let's a bloodsucker get the best of him. But this time, the vampire has gotten the best of him. Edward has stolen the better half of his soul, just to turn it to icy stone and leave it in that condition for all eternity, never allowing it to be beautiful, breathing, warm and perfect like it deserves to be.
She deserves to be.
He falls to his knees against the hardwood floor, doubling over from just the mere thought of her -
Bells
- giving herself to that parasite.
He expels everything he has eaten today, which is not much considering his loss of appetite. He vomits again and again until there is nothing coming out of him, and he collapses to the floor, releasing one last sob of misery and rejection before he loses consciousness.
His long nights, his long days go on like this for weeks, but still, the nightmares keep him from finding the rest his body needs. Her memory haunts him, tortures him like burning hives, torments like a fiery hot blade cutting into his flesh and it cannot be relieved. He wonders what he could have possibly done differently to change things.
Nothing comes to mind.
Billy begs to fix his son's fractured window that has been filling the room with chilled air and insects...only to be met with curses and a "don't mess with it." The pack does not come around him. They know what the consequences would be if they tried to pull him away from his chosen confinement. Sam relieves him of all duties to the pack until he can come to grips with life, hoping their prayers to the spirits will bring a miracle -
That Jacob will soon recover from the suicidal state he is in.
Months of sitting on his bed, staring at the hole in the clear glass, he relives the times he spent with her. When thoughts wander too near his nightmares, he clears his mind vacant and void as an unfilled piñata. He is not eating enough to keep a mouse alive, making him ill...but it's what he chooses.
To be alone is his only desire...He does not have to face the cruel reality of things when he is alone. Still, his mind is a backstabbing companion. He is forced to face his own imagination that betrays him day after day. The disgusting images of him and her together is all he can barely endure.
In his weakened state, he is less capable of destroying something, and he knows that is benefiting his father, at least.
Has she really done it? Has he not been successful in saving her life? He is Jacob Black. He exists only to protect. Why couldn't he protect her? Yes, being alone and facing his disloyal imagination and the nightmares is all he can suffer. For so long, his life has been about protecting her. She was his life. Without her, he cannot live.
He will not.
Slowly, time passes as it always does...and he gets his appetite back. A shadow of his strength returns. He eats for his father's sake, because he loves him. He breathes and he moves and he eats, but he does not live.
He knows her and the leech's first anniversary is around the corner, but he can stomach it somehow. He can withstand the pain the only way he has learned to.
Every night, he imagines kissing her silky mouth, whispering he loves her and caressing every inch of her soft, white skin adoringly; the way he knows she would like. He calls her Mrs. Black and he sighs as his hand makes the fantasy all too real for him. He strokes himself and closes his eyes, seeing her face and kissing her pink lips as he enters her, all the while never having the pleasure of knowing how her body truly does feel.
Only the bloodsucker knows how incredible she feels on the inside. He groans and shoves the painful thought away, forcing Bella's beautiful face back into his mind's eye.
"Mrs. Black..." He moans and feels his clear, slippery love leaking. He envisions her clearly and she smells amazing...Like the reddest, ripest, sweetest strawberries.
They are making love as husband and wife. His hand squeezes harder and kneads as he whispers her sweet name, chanting his love for her repeatedly as he gets lost in the surreal vision. "Bells...I love you." He breathes and hot tears fall.
This is how he spends every single night of his existence. He jacks off to his bittersweet fantasies of him and her as husband and wife, until he finds the release he needs to be able to sleep at night. His dreams and fantasies are his life now. He lives almost unaware of what true reality even is.
The night of ...their...anniversary finally comes around, and just like any other night, he is ready to imagine it is his and Bella's. But this night, Billy has to confront his son and tell him he knows what has been going on.
He is horrified and humiliated when his father tells him he knows how he has been dealing with the pain. Billy tells him he needs to accept the life she has chosen...he needs to accept she has chosen Edward. Billy tells him she is probably a flea now, too. Billy tells him he is worth more than this...he is capable of so much more. Billy tells him he is special. Billy tells him that he needs to get his life back because he is wasting away into nothing.
Jacob is embarrassed and heartbroken that his father thinks Bella is with that parasite and not him. It is not true, he tells himself. She is Mrs. Black. He talks to her and makes love to her every single night.
He storms into his room, busting a new hole amongst the many others in his wall, howling out into the small space around him in agony.
His bedroom makes him feel claustrophobic and threatens to close in on him as he becomes aware of his true life...his true existence. He doesn't want to live, he doesn't want to think his fantasies are not real. He refuses to believe his father. He refuses to believe his nightmares.
Tonight, he is not making love to her...but fucking her, hard. He twitches and moans as he spills his seed into his hand, envisioning fucking his woman, not the bloodsucker's woman. But tonight he is not left with the tingles, the fuzzy feelings that normally promise him it is real. No, tonight he knows it is not real. He knows that...Edward...is the one fucking her tonight. The bloodsucker is the one who is making love to his wife on their anniversary night. Edward is the one who is making her cheeks flush crimson and her toes curl.
That is, if he hasn't killed her already.
He lets out a sob as the tormenting realization punches him in the gut. She could very well be the living dead now. He needs some fresh air, he just needs to leave the house for once this whole fucking year before he finds himself hanging over the toilet again. He can do it, he tells himself. It's just fresh air, it won't kill him...he wouldn't be that lucky.
He cleans the product of his nightly ritual from his body and his bed. He steps outside, his face hitting the cool breeze carrying the scent of wood and nature to his nostrils. He inhales deeply as the wind dries his wet, swollen eyes. He drags his feet, taking his pajama-pant clad body to the trees and he just keeps walking.
His bare chest and arms take lashings from the tree branches as he follows the familiar path he has not been down in so long. He would phase, but his body is not used to shifting. It has been a year since he felt the breeze against his fur. Sam and the pack have given up hope that he will ever return. Sam has been bitter, but understands nonetheless.
Jacob does not know where he is going as he continues through the woods, yet he does. His battered heart is telling him to stay away from her, to turn around and go back to his fantasy world. Why is he torturing himself ? He knows if he sees her, frozen white, he will never recover.
Is she pearlescent? Is she going to be like an ice sculpture? He has almost forgotten what the cold ones even look like.
When he sees the glowing lights from the mansion, he slows to a stop within the green and just looks on at the world he is not a part of. Mr and Mrs. Leech's castle and all of their stupid riches is too much for his burning eyes, so he closes them.
She has fortune, lots of it he is certain. She is probably so happy, so at peace amongst all the bloodsuckers. He has no right to interfere...to disturb her happy little home. He fights to find oxygen as the pain in his heart is too much. He turns to leave, but then he halts. He can smell her. The scent of strawberries and freesia blows past him and he cannot go.
The scent calls for him and he follows it to a large balcony. He looks up at the french doors that have a warm glow illuminating from within them. His heart races when he sees her silhouette. It is her...he has to see her, to just get a closer look.
He climbs the side of the house, easily pulling himself up into the safety of the balcony. The sweet scent of vampire is raw and makes him gag. He crouches low, creeping up slowly to the french doors that are draped with beautiful, cream colored, flowing curtains.
He peeks through where the curtains are parted, and he sees her with a towel piled up high atop her head. She is pale, but there is a rosiness to her cheeks. Joy erupts within him and he lets out a sob of relief. Her voice does not chime like bells. He is so full of emotion, he thinks he might pass out.
She is humming a song he thinks is beautiful and tying the tie around her ridiculously thick, lavender color robe. It makes him sick to see her living like this when he knows it is not her. None of this is her. She is far more simple than to live in this kind of luxury. He knows that. She knows that!
He sees her leave the bedroom, and so he stands up and rattles the doorknob. It opens without making a creak and he sighs. Stupid girl, it was as if she did everything in her power to be an easy target. But he is not the predator, he reminds himself. She is living with the true predator.
He does not care if her husband is home. In fact, he hopes the bloodsucker will show his ugly gemstone face so he can cut it, and serve it to Bella in a jewel box. He laughs at the idea, but knows it is only a ridiculous thought...that he would rather enjoy seeing the abomination's rock body burning in flames of ember.
He walks through the elaborately decorated bedroom, feeling an uncomfortable cold chill crawl up his spine at the immaculate sight around him. He cannot stop staring at the walls that are hand-painted with intricate, detailed designs of angelic beings. The door frames seem painted with liquid gold that matches the color of the tick's eyes.
Before he makes it to the bedroom door and into the hallway, Bella re-enters the room and is standing before him. Her big, brown eyes look on him with shock and amazement. She drops her shining silver hairbrush against the hard floor, the clanking sound echoing through the large room.
Jacob stares at her face, her pink lips and cheeks...Her chest that moves up and down with each human breath, and most importantly, the sound of her beating heart. He does not know there are tears running down his face and that he is trembling as he looks hopelessly at the girl he has fantasized being married to for so, so long.
Neither one of them can find voice, but Bella's lips are quivering and she covers her mouth with her small, delicate hand. She lets out a quiet sob, and Jacob, suddenly at war with his emotions, cannot control the heat.
Anger, denial, regret, betrayal.
Her tears mean nothing but sympathy to him, and he refuses to accept sympathy from anyone. He knows that if he stays, he will not be able to control his mouth. His hurt runs too deep, his heart utterly broken, and the fact that she seems happy in this life she abandoned herself to is killing him most of all. Maybe he has been wrong. Maybe Edward is better for her than he is.
But he cannot help the feeling of gladness that ghosts over his heart, brushing gently against the mounting anger. She is happy, and that beckons some sort of joy to fill his spirit. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, but wills himself to not speak. He wants to tell her how he feels. He wants to tell her how much he loves her before he has to go.
He shakes his head and tells himself to leave...to get out of their house. She deserves her happily ever after...Why is he ruining it by showing his face? He turns to leave her with her riches.
"Jake. Wait." He stops at the sound of her voice and curses himself for ever going there. He has no business being there and interfering with her life. He is just a mutt who wants to be petted, and he is being selfish in wanting to see her, touch her. He holds onto the disgusting, gold door frame of the open french doors, the wind blowing his hair and face as he contemplates turning around. Is it really selfish of him to want to see her, touch her? No, no it isn't.
"Jacob." A whine breathlessly escapes her and small arms are around his waist...A face squashed against his long, muscular back. "Jake are you really here?"
He does not answer her, he cannot answer her or he will break down with complete surrender. The feeling of her skin against his back...the gentle strength beneath her embrace is a burning torch igniting his heart and it is all he can do stifle a moan. The relief that she is not a bloodsucker mixed with the feeling that she has been his imaginary wife for so long is too much. This is not imaginary, this is real.
She is touching him, her warm little body wrapped around his large one, and it's just the way it should be. Except, she is not his wife. She belongs to the leech. He fights the incredible surge to turn around, kiss her with abandon and make love to her like he has dreamed for so long...but he somehow holds himself in. She left him alone. She betrayed their friendship. She tore his insides from him.
She tugs on his thick, warm arm, begging him to turn around to face her. His chest shakes, his heart palpitating painfully when he does...He can never deny her anything. He looks down at her, his deep set eyes traveling across her face. He cannot look at her for too long or he will fall off the deep end...He cannot bring himself to gaze into her glinting eyes. Her scent is invading and he feels lightheaded, as if getting high off of his drug. The antidote he has been deprived of for eternity.
"Jacob, please look at me. Please say something to me. It's been so long." She squeezes his arms with all of her strength. His body goes tense as her lips inch closer to his body...The urge to place kisses along his pecs and the taut, russet skin covering his ribs is confusing Bella. She has never wanted to do such a thing to him before. He tries with every ounce of will he has, but cannot control his breathing. He releases the pent up air shakily and slowly brings his large hands up. With a gentle tug from his large fingers, the offensive towel falls onto the floor beside their feet.
Wet, chocolate brown waves spring from underneath and cascade around her delicate features. He stares at her long hair, remembering how it falls against her milky neck...The way it reflects the mere bedroom glow, and it seems brighter than the sun to his sight. Her hair is as perfect as he always remembered it.
Her eyes are wide with awe as they stare up into his masked face that hides the torturous, yet enthralling passion that has been building in him since he set eyes on her. His mask does not last long, but falters at her gorgeous, watery brown eyes gazing at him in curiosity. She still holds the look of innocence to him.
Beautiful and perfect...Just as he saw her in his visions.
He is overcome as he takes everything about her in. He believes she is the most perfect woman on the entire planet. He does not stop himself when he twists a finger around a soaked curl, gently pulling the water from it as he brings his big hand away and he does it again. He gently strokes her face and hair simultaneously, feeling no desire to ever stop touching her. His eyes are killing him every second he is in her presence.
He has the insane desire to tell her how he has been living for the entire year she has been married to the vampire, but his pride does not let him. He can't let her know how weak he has been. He knows he has let his guard down and she can see the pain in his eyes, so he raises it again.
They hold onto each other close in silence...Listening to the beat of each others hearts...re-memorizing each others bodies with their eyes. Jacob wants to ask her how she has survived being married to a vampire an entire year. He wants to ask how he can be so lucky that his Bells is still using oxygen to live, eating food to strive, and still feels warm beneath his hands.
He cannot breathe, he cannot think, he cannot hold it inside to slowly kill himself any longer. Large and gentle fingertips touch her neck and he pulls her to him, never leaving eye contact until his lips find contact with hers. He groans in need and contentment.
Her small arms wrap around his head, and he presses her against the wall hard, eliciting a moan from the fragile girl. He does not want to hurt her...but his lips do not want to stop. Her husband does not come to his mind. All he can think about is how much he loves her and needs her, and has to show her now.
His scalp burns when she pulls his hair, forcing his warm and panting mouth from hers.
"No, Jacob. This is wrong."
"This is right."
With disregard for her words, he pushes her robe open, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly against her stomach. He hardens instantly at the feeling of her bare skin against his palms. She moans and closes her eyes as he grips her waist, moving his hands up, his thumbs gently brushing over her small pebbles. She gasps.
"Jake?" She murmers...her body stiffening.
He doesn't answer her but kisses her face and her lips, pressing his excited member into her, his hands gripping lean, soft thighs as he pushes against her eagerly. Her slender body is lifted from the ground, and her legs hang limply beside his.
"Jacob, why haven't you come to see me?" Her voice is muffled by his hot skin as he cradles her head in his hands, impassioned and smothering her face into his shoulder.
He frowns against her hair. His muscles tighten and his fingers dig into her robe-covered skin. His broken heart breaks...breaks...breaks...The pain shooting through his veins and to his very brain. Did she just ask him that or was he losing his mind? Why hadn't he come to see her?
She cannot move within his hold, he is so strong. She did not make an effort at all to see him. Not a phone call, not a letter. Nothing to let him know she was alright. For all he knew, she had a stone heart and venom running through her veins. For all he knew they were mortal enemies. Why hadn't she come to tell him she was still human? He would have still been her friend. He would always be her friend.
"I didn't want to see you." He bites out, taking Bella by surprise. "I didn't want to see you cold...dead...like one of them." He shudders and brings his hands to her face. "You are not one of them." He wants to smile, but he can't do it. She is still married to one of them, even if she has not suffered the same ill fate...yet.
"Jacob." A single tear rolls down her cheek as she stares into his beautiful, pain-filled eyes. "I was afraid you hated me."
"Hated you?" He sneers angrily, gripping her harder without realizing they are moving. "How dare you. How dare you!" A growl erupts from his throat furiously and she squeaks as her body finds the bedroom wall. "Where's your husband?" He breathes so close to her face, he can almost taste the moisture between her pouty lips again. She can taste his delicious breath.
"He's...he's hunting!" She whimpers and closes her eyes. "Jacob..." She breathes. "Oh Jacob..." She moans as he drops his face and presses his body against hers.
"You were supposed to marry me..." He groans hopelessly into her hair, nuzzling his nose into her neck. "You're supposed to be with me. You're supposed to be mine." His voice breaks and his hand tenderly slides behind her body, holding her closer into a bear hug only he can provide.
"I've missed you so much. I've thought of you every single day. I swear I have, Jacob." He feels her small hands on his large shoulders. "I can't believe you're really here. Are you really here? This is not a dream? Oh god, this is not a dream." She sighs and kisses his hair.
"Bells. I'm here." Tears fill his eyes as he tastes the skin at her neck and moves his lips to her chin, leaving wet, open mouth kisses everywhere she allows him to. She is not stopping him, not pushing him away. She is holding him closer. "You still smell like you." He sighs against her ivory flesh...inhaling her scent noisily with moans. "The leech...h-he's not here..." Jacob mumbles, still feeling her neck with his lips.
"No...he's not."
"Good."
"B-but, Jake..."
His dark eyes meet hers, and he sees the fear in them. He does not want her to be afraid. This is real, and this is right. She needs to see what she is missing. He needs to feel what he has been missing for so long.
"I'm going to kiss you, Bella. I can't wait."
"Jake, I'm married." Hot streams slide down her cheeks. His lips part and he cannot hide the agony those words cause him.
He shakes his head slowly...vigorously...slowly.
Closing his eyes and lowering his forehead to hers, all that is heard is heavy breathing.
"Why? Why did you do it, Bells?" He fights the hot tears, blinking them away so she will not see his pain...but it is impossible.
"I'm so sorry." She holds his face in her hands. "I love-"
"DON'T." He growls. "I don't care." But he does.
"Please." She whimpers.
"Don't talk." With a moan, his brown eyes open and pierce hers deeply, full of unspoken words.
"Bells...I..."
"I've thought of you every single day, Jake."
"I've never stopped thinking about you, Bella. I can't get you out of my head." His eyes are frantic as he relives his days without her. The dark memories fleeting through his mind, excruciating, like a million crows pecking at his brain tissue. It hurts. His fingertips press firmly against her cheek. Their eyes meet, his face damp with sweat. "I don't care about the bloodsucker. I don't care that youmarried him. You're alive." He smiles widely and a noise leaves his throat. "Come away with me. Please, please. Just be with me. Be with me. I love you."
"Jacob." It is a whisper. Her eyes flash fearful...or disturbed. For a moment, he thinks she is afraid of him and he calms himself enough to erase most of the desperate look on his face. His eyes widen with realization.
"Don't be afraid of me, honey. Bells, don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not..." His eyes fall...any trace of his elation at her being alive is gone. He lets go, stepping away from her so he cannot harm her. He is afraid he gripped her too hard...held onto her mercilessly. He knows he hurt her. His hands grip his wet hair, a thick breath leaves his body and he stumbles away. "What am I doing here?"
She sees him wholly now that she is over the shock of his visit...Her eyes open to what is in her presence. She sees a different person standing in front of her. It is not her old friend. No. It is a tortured man, a tormented soul, with eyes that are confused and angry and hurt. His muscular body is the same, yet so different. Perhaps it is the way he stands, so defeated and uncertain.
Weak.
But he is never weak...Jacob has never been weak. Her heart aches and her forehead wrinkles...She wipes the salty water from beneath her eyes. She is afraid to, but steps toward his trembling form that leans against her bedroom wall. She does not know whether to take his hand or to let him alone. She is not sure what to expect from him...but all she does know is she loves him and has always loved him. She does not want him to go.
"I love you." She whispers so low, it is not certain that he hears her. She cannot stand to see him so altered from the way he used to be. His face has lost color and the light it used to radiate. He looks older...He looks ill.
Her joy is raped and replaced with guilt...She has something to do with this...She has caused him to become this sick person she does not recognize. Has her marriage to Edward hurt her best friend so badly? A lump builds in her throat as she ponders what he must have lived through all this time. Has he not moved on...found another girl who would give him everything he deserves...everything Bella isn't? Why hasn't he imprinted so he does not have to be tortured any longer?
"Jacob. What happened to you?" Her voice is quiet when she hesitantly asks the question. He stands before her, eyes distant and traveling the bedroom...all but meeting her. "Jacob?" She touches his wet cheek and he feels the chill climb his spine. "I want you to know that I...I thought of you, Jake. I thought of you when I walked down the aisle with Edward. I thought of you when I said I do. I thought of you when I gave my virginity to him."
He chokes and swallows the pain creeping up his throat.
"I love you, Jacob. I'm so in love with you."
Her words bring him to look at her. He cannot answer or tell her that he has needed to hear those words for so long. Her voice coats his thudding heart like warm soup heating a starving stomach on a winter day, yet the warmth is rinsed from his soul as his eyes pass by Bella's shoulder, seeing the wedding photo resting next to the bed.
His spirit separates and splinters - But he does not fall apart - This time, he will not fall apart.
His tall form towers over her...His large frame shadows her small body. She cannot help but feel threatened, but excited beneath his smoky, desperate gaze. She does not know what is happening deep inside of him...She does not know what he is thinking...She only prays he wants her as badly as she wants him - Needs him - Can't stand to live another year without him in her life.
His eyes are the darkest shade she has ever seen them and his face is more rigid than her husbands stone skin - What is he so scared to let her see? She wonders. She knows there is something he is protecting himself from...Protecting her from. She knows he is hiding from her.
He fights against the pain in his heart...The disgusting picture of perfection sitting on the side table, staring him in the face...His Bells and the leech after they had announced their vows...Becoming parasite and wife. Her smile, as she stands next to the ice man beautifully cradled by an expensive frame, stabs a fresh hole into the present wound...His mouth salivates in revulsion.
No, he tells himself...It is not fair... He heard her voice say the words...It could't have been a dream...She said the most incredible words he had only ever dreamed she would say to him...He would surely die if it had only been a dream.
He feels a smooth finger brush a soft strand of raven hair from his eyes...He hears her breathless whispers again.
"Jacob...?" It is a murmer as quiet as the flutter of a butterfly's wings. "I want you," she achingly professes.
Is he dreaming again?
She sees the slight flinch beneath his features...His eyes softening.
His mind effortlessly blankets the pain with the loyal friend that has always come through when it was too much...The part of his mind that never ceased to protect his sanity when it was threatened...or maybe it was too late for protecting.
"Mrs. Black." The deep voice coos sweetly.
.
.
.
.
The night is cold, but as always, it does not affect him. Being a vampire, he is rarely ever uncomfortable for any reason. Tonight is a night he plans to make unforgettable for his fair Isabella.
He moves through the night, maneuvering elegantly through the wind...He is on the way back to his dwelling. He has just fed on many an animal, for when he does this, it proves to add to the couple's lovemaking...bringing a brilliance and energy that Bella can never get enough of.
Eager to see her on his anniversary night...To light the candles...To serve her the delicious dinner he has planned to cook for her...He lands in his yard. His eyes are slits as he recognizes the disgusting stench emanating from his home.
How could it be? What is the smell of one of them doing in his house? He glances up at the curtains blowing in the breeze, across the open french doors to his bedroom.
Soundlessly, his shoes touch down onto the marble slabs of the balcony. His golden eyes are simmering as he hears them...smells them. They do not know he is there...His house already familiar with his scent. His dark silhouette stands behind the violent, whipping draperies.
The dog is on top of his wife...The dog is moaning against his wife...The dog is inside of his wife.
Without a sound, the vampire's rock hand clamps onto the back of the mutt's dark neck. Bella screeches and covers her body as she watches the man she loves fly through the air, hitting a large pillar and breaking straight through.
Jacob stands immediately after hitting the ground, paint and concrete chips falling from his skin. His darkened eyes spear Edward and he rushes the vampire with hatred and sickness fueling him. Bella sobs as she witnesses her husband and the man she is in love with clawing, grabbing, growling, biting at each other in intent to kill. She wants neither to die...but she is terrified of one thing.
The venomous fangs sink into the dark skin with a mind shuddering pop.
Bella screams and falls from the bed, holding her arms out to the russet man still trying to pull the head clean from her husband...His body, his face, his hands growing weaker before her. Edward's sharp teeth slip out from the thick skin, the blood running out and down the Indian's muscular arm.
"NO!" Bella gasps, unable to bring forth a stronger voice as Jacob's eyes become heavy...His hands slide slowly down from the vampire's cold neck. The boy's brow creases in effort to hold onto his strength, his breath inaudible. The vampire releases the wolf, letting his heavy body fall to the ground...knowing the sound of his heart is slowing, and grateful that his wife cannot hear it.
What has Edward done?
"No Jacob. No." She sobs quietly beside him...He is fading fast. "Why didn't you phase. You wouldn't have hurt me. You wouldn't have. Oh Jacob, I love you...You can't go anywhere. Why did you come here? Jake look what you've done." She kisses his sweaty face and holds his upper arm where the blood will not stop escaping. She holds her hands up, unable to believe there is hot blood sliding down her palms. "Look what I've done," She wails.
"You've never deserved him, Isabella. My love...you have never deserved either of us." His voice is as cold as his breaths.
"Bells...Bel..." His last breath is gone...His eyes are still on her face...Their light slowly fades.
"Don't go...I'm sorry...I'M SO SORRY JAKE." Her thumb smears the tears leaking from his distant eyes. "God, please, don't take him away from me now...don't take him away."
"It's over." His musical voice chimes behind her...above her. "Love...I forgive you."
"Kill me."
"What?"
"You heard me." Her voice is dull. "Take me out of here...send me to him." She drops Jacob's limp hand and stands. "I'm begging you...please stop my heart. It hurts to breathe...it hurts to think...it hurts to know."
"He is dead."
"No." She sobs and lifts her burning eyes to his gold ones "I'm not sorry."
"Bella..."
"I'm not sorry for loving Jake. I am so, so sorry for marrying you. It was a mistake, Edward. I'm so sorry." She lowers her face to the vampire's stone chest. "When I said 'I do'...I saw his face. I said it to him, Edward."
He can't understand how it can be so difficult to take somebody's life...He can't understand how a monster like him can feel such immense sympathy...he can't understand how his undead heart can break when he snaps her neck...He can't understand why he's not allowed to shed a venomous tear when he sobs.
"Be with him, my love."
He does not leave her on the floor like he leaves her beloved mutt. No...He lays her in the huge bed...The bed she had just whispered her true feelings for her best friend in just moments ago...when she was still breathing. He pulls the thick blanket over her pale, beautiful, still body...And he knows she is in peace. He knows she will never have to feel pain ever again.
.
.
.
.
The vampire is shaking when his eyes focus once again on the site before him, the scattered pieces materializing back together as if magnetized to one another.
The dog is on top of his wife...The dog is moaning against his wife...The dog is inside of his wife.
His eyes are ablaze as he listens to the sounds of raw love and affection...his undead body trembling, his cold hands clenching shut as he tries to contain his heartache, his fury...his -
- understanding?
"I'm...sorry for... everything...I love you...I need you Jake...yes..."
"Bells...tell me this is real...tell me you want me...say you need this..."
"I want you, Jacob...I need this s-so much...I've always needed this..."
He cannot move as he watches the beautiful movement of two bodies finding completion in one another...Two warm bodies that feed from each other's heat...Two bodies that excrete from passion and slide perfectly in unison...Two heartbeats that almost beat as one, if the larger didn't flutter so erratically beneath the mongrel's chest.
Edward is a motionless statue...almost forgetting that it is indeed his wife in there, completely in love with the beautiful man who is completely in love with the beautiful woman. His glowing eyes can only see the most pure affection...beautiful and unadulterated organic love.
He feels like he has no right to witness such an intimate thing as their bodies shake with need.
"...marry me...Mrs. Black..."
"...yes...yes..."
"...tell me you're real..."
"...I am...oh yes don't stop..."
What is he but a thing? A baffling, inscrutable breaking of the laws of life and nature...An abomination that should never have been allowed to exist. How can something live if it is not living? How could a thing with no heart be granted the ability to suffer heartache?
The statue disappears from it's standing place at watch in the shadows...No longer feeling as a stalker to his wife and true love. He is in the garden behind the house...a place Isabella would be many nights, roasting marshmallows in the fire she would insist on making even though he had told her it was dangerous. He had created a patch of smooth dirt just for her.
She would laugh and roll her eyes when he stayed far from it, watching her adoringly as she chewed on the melting white fluff stuck on the end of the stick...He was always a little jealous he could not enjoy human food.
He knows why she used to do that...Why creating a bonfire was something she was so enthusiastic about...They used to do it...
He stands in the ring of black dust...Listening to her and him upstairs...The beautiful sound like a constant humming...Torturing...Unalterable...Too radiant...
Inescapable.
"For you, Bella."
He takes the small box from his coat pocket...He always carries them - just in case -
He will not make this arduous for her - He will let her be happy - They deser - She deserves to be -
As the flames rise, the parasite is devoured, obliterated, powerless to taint the earth and humankind enduring...The stone surface staining with black.
The lovers lie breathless against each other - their bodies damp with exertion, with exhaustion. He whispers his undying love for her, and she soothes his strained heart with her own confessions. He knows they will have hurdles to jump...He has demons that he must defeat...He has her husband to face down...And he will fight him even if it gets him killed.
But to have her in his arms finally -
-Real
-So warm
-Breathing
-Still his perfectly imperfect Bells
...There is nothing he won't do to keep it this way.
He breathes in her strawberry and freesia scent...And this time, she is not a ghost...but delicious, flesh and blood beneath his body. Their smiles mingle, their lips on a journey they could never complete alone. His face breaks away from hers, turning to confront the howling breeze stirring the curtains.
"Do you smell something burning?"