Disclaimer—I do not own these characters. I only own the little idea that formed this piece of fiction. Stephenie Meyer owns the characters. I do not own the excerpt from NEW MOON that is in this, from pages 375-377.

As Our Lips Touched

Brief Summary: What would have happened if, on page 376, instead of freezing at Edward's voice in her mind, telling her to be happy, instead, Bella DID turn her head to touch her lips to Jacob's shoulder…?

""Jacob stopped the truck in front of my dark house, cutting the engine so it was suddenly silent. Like so many other times, he seemed to be in tune with my thoughts now.

He threw his other arm around me, crushing me against his chest, binding me to him. Again, this felt nice. Almost like being a whole person again.

I thought he would be thinking of Harry, but then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic. "Sorry. I know you don't feel exactly the way I do, Bells. I swear I don't mind. I'm just so glad you're okay that I could sing—And that's something no one wants to hear." He laughed his throaty laugh in my ear.

My breathing kicked up a notch, sanding the walls of my throat.

Wouldn't Edward, indifferent as he might be, want me to be as happy as was possible under the circumstances? Wouldn't enough friendly emotion linger for him to want that much for me? I thought he would. He wouldn't begrudge me this: giving just a small bit of the love he didn't want to my friend Jacob. After all, it wasn't the same love at all.

Jake pressed his warm cheek against the top of my hair.

If I turned my face to the side—if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder . . . I knew without any doubt exactly what would follow. It would be very easy. There would be no need for explanations tonight.

But could I do it? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?

Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I thought about turning my head.

And then, clearly as if I were in immediate danger, Edward's velvet voice whispered in my ear.

"Be happy," he told me. ""

That was when the tears spilled out of my eyes. I didn't know there were even tears in my eyes. I knew what I was about to do was very wrong, not to mention, unfair for Jacob. But I did it anyways.

Moving slowly so as not to alarm Jacob, or to scare him away, I turned my head. The tears still spilled from my eyes like a flowing river, but Jacob could not see that. I felt him freeze up slightly, but I persisted with my "plan."

I closed my eyes tightly and touched my lips softly to his blazing hot shoulder.

I heard him gasp and when I pulled back, I opened my eyes and looked at him, my tears having stopped flowing during the kiss. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open a bit, his expression reflected surprise, to say the very least.

He let his expression soften and I noticed the immediate change in how he held me: instead of the bone-crushing hug he had me in moments before; he was now holding me gently, as if I were something precious and fragile.

It all happened in slow-motion after that point. His eyes slid closed as he leaned forward and touched his lips to mine, in a feather-light touch. Needless to say, it surprised me to no end when I felt a shock in the very pit of my stomach.

I didn't understand this feeling that came in such a sudden way. It was as if I loved Jacob like I loved Edward. But no—that's not possible . . . Is it?

Could this be love I felt as our lips touched . . . ?

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This was just a thought that came into my mind as I read that portion of New Moon. I don't think it's a very good piece, but let me know what you think, please, even if it isn't good. Thank you.