Stephenie Meyer owns. I just like to play.
First try at fanfic, but I just had to get this story out, because my Edward was simply too perfect for ordinary:D
In desperate need of a beta, so if you're interested please let me know:)
Prologue
"Fuck!"
He yelled and cursed in every language known to man. He pulled and raked stressed hands through chunks of wild copper hair.
Every item that crossed Edward cullen's path was destroyed in its wake.
Pain shot through every fiber of his being. It wasn't physical pain though; he hadn't felt that in a little over 100 years.
It was the sort of pain that would never go away. The one that strikes you when your body is incapable of suffering more.
A bed that had never been slept on was reduced to shreds and splinters. Blankets and pillows torn, leaving the room covered in a sheet of fluffy down.
He thought it sort of gave his room a heaven-like quality. He gave a maniacal laugh at the irony of it all.
I am an undead monster that will never have a chance at anything. Not even an afterlife.
His eyes were as dark as the closet you never wanted to walk into when you were three years old.
He gave one last agonized scream before coming down harshly to his knees. His hands fisted the wooly texture of his slacks, ripping them ferociously in the process.
He would've cried if he could.
Unfortunately for him, his body had been sucked dry a long time ago, consequently disabling him from shedding any sort of pain through tears.
Instead he could only heave and thrash like the wild beast that he was.
The storm was loud and invading as it hammered away at the roof of his house. The sky was a hazy gray as he stared at it blankly.
Three thousand six hundred and fifty-eight days since he stopped being enough.
It had been a day like any other.
She lay nestled under his chin as her frail body trembled and shook with violent sobs.
"I'm so s-sorry," her voice hiccupped with the words that would soon destroy the meaning of his existence.
He could have endured anything else, anything but the reality of what she was about to say.
"I love you," she had said, pressing her quivering lips to the pale skin that covered his defined jaw.
"but I love him more. I'm s-so sorry it isn't enough."
All the air that he would never need left his lungs in a gust as her words hit him.
It was over.
His life came to a complete halt that day, taking all the colors and feelings it had once evoked.
He was pathetic and damned to be forever incomplete.
It's incredible how long a feeling could last, how not even time could puncture the whole in his chest; memories that seemed to blaze in his brain at the mere thought of her name.
She haunted the oxygen that invaded his lungs each time he took a painful breath.
Her face was permanently carved into the back of his eyelids, reminding him every single second of the not-enough-love she had once felt for him.
He thought every single moment of his life had led up to the day he had met Bella.
Fortunately for him though, his thoughts couldn't have been any farther from the truth.
Hope you guise enjoyed, and as always let me know what you think;)