"Cuz she's an angel for sure, but heaven takes and heaven gives, crashing course in its wake"
Under the Gun by The Killers
He knew he shouldn't be there.
He knew that it was dangerous and by lurking outside her window he was signing her death warrant but he couldn't stay away.
It had started out as mere curiosity, he was intrigued.
She wasn't normal.
Isabella Swan was not an ordinary human, her body did not react like others, her mind was closed, something he had never encountered.
His mind was at peace when he was in her presence, a rare gift, a reprieve from the countless mundane thoughts he experience hundreds of thousand times over, humanity. A gift, a life, something he yearned for, something Carlisle had instilled in him to respect. But if he had to be honest they were all fucking morons.
Self centered, idiots, thinking that they were the first to ever encounter pain, joy, passion. Every person swore that no one else had ever felt what they had before. Well guess what dipshits, they all do.
Except her.
She probably did, she probably thought what they all think. She probably wasn't all that original. She most likely thought their family beautiful, was caught up in her own strange whirlwind of teenage drama. She was most likely exactly the same as the rest.
But he couldn't be sure.
Bella Swan was forever a mystery, she would taunt him, her eyes, her face, made him desire her, her blood sang to him. Everything about her drew him to her like a magnet like a damned sirens call. And she had no idea.
Her innocence, her naivety was so damned frustrating and endearing at the same time that even here, while he invaded her presence, and her safety, while she was fucking sleeping, he could clearly see himself sinking his teeth into her jugular. If he really closed his eyes, he could imagine something so much worse, so much more satisfying so much more fulfilling.
His eyes traveled over her body, clad in a ragged t-shirt and thin bottoms, he saw the shape of her thighs, the curve of her breast, the skin of her neck. Her ruby red mouth was slightly parted, letting in the smallest amount of breath. She had a slight snore that was too unobtrusive to be considered offending; it made this porcelain goddess in front of him seem real.
He could imagine entering through the window, he would not make a noise, and his hands capable of balancing bubbles on his fingertips would trail the length of her legs; taking in her smell, her feel, her warmth.
Her humanity.
While his hands would caress her legs, his mouth would begin at her temple, a soft gesture one might give a sister, something small and sweet. He would continue, barley brushing his lips down her cheek, her jaw, lightly nipping on her ear, breathing in the delicious scent of her blood. Nipping her teeth oh so gently, right where he could hear her pulse slow and steady; her body completely unaware a predator was so close. Unaware that she was at the mercy of a blood crazed vampire.
Edward felt the bark beneath his hands, his fantasy so vivid he could not be sure where the reality lay. Temporarily relieved he had yet to actually put the girl in danger he continued to far gone, he needed to finish this once, if only in his head.
After nipping at her neck, he tilts her head, and lowers his cold lips to hers; brushing softly then a little harder, as if needing the sensations to make sure they were real. He pulls back and sees her deep dark brown eyes staring back at him. They unnerve him, she doesn't scream, doesn't gasp or even ask why, she just stares at him as if expecting him to be there. Shocked by her calm resignation he pulls back and lays his forehead against hers, and then Bella shocks the hell out of him. She reaches up to caress her face, and smiles.
Those ruby red lips that minutes ago were releasing the deep even breaths of sleep, were curled into a smile. He wished for the thousandth time he knew what went through her head. Because as sure as he was that she was the same as everyone else, he couldn't imagine anyone else reacting like this to him in the middle of the night. He couldn't imagine anyone reacting this way to a complete stranger in the middle of the night; and for the first time in a long time he thought maybe he had found someone a little crazier than him.
But before he could follow that thought she pulled his head back, and he was kissing her lips again. Their lips brushed, closed mouth, soft and sweet. The complete opposite of everything he imagined, of everything his body was yearning to do. Suddenly as if her co-operation was too much his body kicked into overdrive, and he moved his mouth back to her jaw down her neck.
He pulled the blanket away and kissed every inch of her skin that was exposed; her breast was pert, round, small but enough for his hands to hold. He flicked his tongue over the taut nipple and her moan was more powerful than any symphony he could hear. He switched to the other breast, and then continued his journey, his hands reached the soft skin that covered her ribs, and down the concave curve of her stomach before his mouth was able to claim the skin as its own.
His fingers reached inside the elastic, tugging her pants and underwear down together. The smell of her overwhelmed him, and as his hands brushed her inner thighs he felt her shudder and he felt stirrings of a masculine pride he had never truly experienced before. Bella would be his first, the first women to make him feel alive, and the only women in decades to tempt him back to the bloodthirsty murderer he was.
He ran his fingers along her, the most intimate part of her, and her barely audible sigh encouraged him along. She was slick, wet; she wanted this, nearly as much as he did. He brought the fingers to his mouth and tasted her. Her essence, the barest most primal Bella, and as he took in a deep breath, the last thread of control snapped.
Before he could regain his senses his mouth was on her thigh, drinking her life, draining her of her blood, and there were no words. He was alive, this body was singing, he felt as if he was in a million pieces, every aspect of him throbbing with a high better than any drug could ever offer.
And he couldn't stop.
A minute a second later, a year perhaps, Edward stood over Bella's lifeless body, and felt a buzzing in his pants.
Leave Now.
Edward stared at the message the phone in his hands, and his mind snapped back to reality. He was no longer on the tree; there was no bark beneath his hand. He was standing over Bella's body, but her heart still beat, the tattoo of her heart against her chest was steady and strong.
She was alive. It was just a dream. No not a dream, vampires can't dream. It was his, a fantasy, a reprieve from the constant want. A case of what if, but it was all he could have. Stolen moments he created in his mind. Edward took one step forward and smoothed the hair away from her face, reaching down to kiss her temple, before the buzzing began again.
Now.
He took a step toward the window, away from Bella's body.
Bella's alive body.
Edward jumped from the window, and ran home, faster than any human eye that might be awake at the moment would be able to see.
Running to distract him from what he had done.
What he wanted to do.
What his body demanded he do.
What he knew he would enjoy.
If only he hadn't stayed the extra second, if only he hadn't kissed he once more, he would have been far enough out of earshot, that he wouldn't of heard her sheets rustle, or her voice still deep and hoarse from sleep whisper his name.
"Edward."
And he knew that with that name, that whisper in the middle of the night, she had just signed both their lives away.