Disclaimer: If I actually owned Twilight I wouldn't be writing bad fan fiction.
"Only a thief."
The words stung as they left the cold, emotionless lips. Months I had spent, simply chasing those lips, waiting for the day when tender proclamations of love would replace the cruel insults constantly thrown my way. Months had been spent aching for the care she so readily lavished on her friends and family to finally envelope me in their soft caress. Months I had spent wasting away as I lingered constantly by her side until she could find it in her icy heart to return my affection. Months had been spent tearing my heart apart piece by piece until the shattered remains were permanently in a state of disrepair. And now, as those words left her cold, emotionless lips, I could feel the final piece of what I once thought was love crumble into nothing.
"Only a thief."
My entire being deteriorated as she declared the only three words that could have this effect, so much crueler than death, upon me. Just three words. The irony of the situation was surely a malevolent twist of fate decreed by those dictating my life. I could picture them sitting there, leering at me from their thrones of infinite power, mutilating the thread of my life for their enjoyment. I could see now that three words had always been in my future, yet the Fates had been egging me on, encouraging me with false pretences and hope.
Hope. Hope had been the essence of my being, the one thing I could always rely on. It had accompanied me through the long nights spent dreaming of her, trying desperately to think of some plan, some method I'd yet to attempt to claim her as mine. Hope had truly been my best friend. But now, now it was the Devil. All this time it had been lying to me, an ally of the twisted Fates. Now it was obvious that they had been working together to make my life as miserable as possible.
"Only a thief."
The words resonated in my head. Over and over they sounded, each time bringing a fresh burst of agony into my newly shredded heart. My eyes rose to meet hers, deep pools filled with nothing but venom and animosity. Eyes that usually displayed humor at my tenacious antics and affection, though not the kind I wished to see, had morphed into ice. The orbs had forever frozen over with a fresh layer of hostility.
I stared at her, simply waiting, hoping (though by now I should have learned to avoid that) for a spark, a shift, anything to show that she was lying to me. Anything to ease the suffering her words had caused. I lost track of time, just watching for a change in her frosty expression. Time was no longer measured in minutes and seconds, it was measured in pain, pure, excruciating misery. Yet no matter how long I stared, I could see nothing beyond the hate.
I was forced to admit it. She was telling the truth.
And, as this realization hit me, a different emotion flooded my system. Rage, unadulterated rage was counteracting the numbness of the ache in my chest. Rage at the Fates for appointing me as their entertainment for the evening. Rage at her for putting me through this torture and rage at myself for allowing her. Rage flooded my mind, occupying my thoughts and forcing me to think of all that I was mad at.
She must have noticed a change in my expression, perhaps resembling hope,(as if I had any of that left) for one last time she moved those cold, emotionless lips, forming words I already knew, and throwing the final punch. Yet before it could leave the lips I had coveted for so long, I spoke.
"I know," I whispered. And then I ran. I could almost hear the Fates clapping at the finally. But it was only the end of my heart. After all, the show had to go on.