Summary: Bella gets some sense knocked into her.
Read this. Even if you're a BxE fangirl.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
I realize most of you will most likely hate this. Hopefully, some of you won't. All I'm asking is that you give it a chance before clicking the "back" button on your screen.
Thanks, and happy reading!
The sun is just barely peeking out from behind the hazy green horizon when Bella quietly closes the back door, the lock clicking softly shut. The grass is wet with dewdrops, soaking the bottom of her worn pair of blue jeans. She walks swiftly across her yard, staying out of sight from her father's bedroom window. She stops to listen for just a second at the sound of her father's gentle snoring, drifting down from the open window two stories up. The deep, heavy breathing makes Bella's eyes tear up, knowing that this decision will hurt her father the most of all people. But she has to leave. She has to.
Bella rubs her stinging brown eyes, trying to keep her breathing steady. With every second being wasted it was growing lighter outside; time was passing by. If she can't get out of town before Charlie woke up, then her plan will be ruined.
A clean getaway. That's all Bella wants. The less tears, the less heart break, the better. She doesn't think she could have done this if she had to sit down next to her father and explain that she was leaving home. For good, never to return.
Slowly, shakily, she takes another step away. Her legs feel like iron as she trudges down the empty road, and turns a corner, not pausing to look back at the life she's leaving behind.
-
Charlie Swan awakes with a start, sunlight pouring through his partially open window. He hurriedly shuffles out of bed, his red T-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His dreams that night had been awful, which he knew from the multiple times he had awoken suddenly in the dead of night, his sheets wrapped around his legs and his mouth open, a breath away from screaming. He couldn't recall what the nightmares had been, but they hadn't gone away, tormenting his dreams all night long. He glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table and notices with some panic that it is almost nine o'clock, which means that he is already an hour late to the station.
Curses flow heavily from the police chief's mouth as he dresses himself in a mad rush. He runs a hand through his balding hair, trying unsuccessfully to smooth the sleep out of it. He splashes cold water on his face and checks himself in the bathroom mirror, wincing as he sees his haggard appearance. In the poorly lit light of the small bathroom, his age seems to be magnified. Every wrinkle, every worry line, and even his thinning hair accentuated that fact that Charlie Swan was no longer a young, lively man.
But, he thinks to himself as he hurries over to Bella's door to tell her he's off to work. My age seems slightly less significant now that I have a beautiful baby girl to love and watch over. He grins at the thought of his radiant, compassionate daughter and all the joy she'd brought to his life over the past couple of months. He's still smiling as he pushes open her bedroom door softly, inhaling the sweet smell that always lingered in Bella's room.
The bed is made, and Bella is nowhere to be found. He blinks once… twice, and then backs out of the room, closing the door behind him. He moves to the top of the stair and listens for a long second, but not a sound is to be heard in the house except for the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
"Bella?" he calls, his voice low. When there is no reply, he hurries down the stairs. He checks the kitchen—empty, the living room—empty. But then he notices the folded sheet of paper lying on the floor in front of the front door. His breath catches in his throat as he bends down to pick up the letter. As he unfolds the letter, fingers trembling, he tries to calm down. He tells himself that Bella wrote a quick note saying she was spending the day with Jacob, or making a morning run to the grocery store. But he knows, after the first four words written in Bella's familiar untidy scrawl that Bella is not at a friend's house, or running an errand. She's gone.
Dad, the letter reads. I'm so sorry. I'm leaving, and I don't think I'll ever come back. I can't offer up an understandable explanation or one that is even close to acceptable. Just know that I love you, that I'm safe, and that maybe one day I'll come back home to see you. It wasn't your fault. Please, please understand that. Nothing was ever your fault, because you were the best dad in the world and I love you so much. More than I think you'll ever know. I hate leaving. Especially leaving you. I hate to ask you this, but please don't send anyone after me. I want it this way; this is my choice. Please, Dad, please don't be mad at me. I love you, Bella.
The letter falls from Charlie's hand, where it lands soundlessly on the scuffed wooden floors. Slowly, so slowly, Charlie turns away from the door, closing his eyes, the realization slowly dawning on him. His Bella—his little angel, his baby girl—has left him. And at this thought, Charlie begins to cry.
-
Bella Swan sits on the beach, staring at the sunset. The sand is warm against her palms as she leans back, basking in the last few rays of the sun. The sky is a light, purplish blue tinged with bright oranges and soft pinks. For the first time in a long time, she is happy. She is happy that she finally made it away from that town, with its horror and its monsters. Happy she is away from Edward, the man she had been so blindly in love with. He'd told her from that start that he was no good for her, that he was too dangerous and too enthralled by the scent of her blood. She had thought it romantic at first, their strange, tormenting, forbidden love. But for the first time, she had opened to her eyes to what her true love really was—a monster.
Her eyes fall shut, and she immediately flashes back to the night before, the night everything changed for them.
-
"Bella," Edward whispers, tracing her jaw line with his carefully gentle touch. "I think we're meant to be together."
Bella nods, relaxing under the soothing feeling of Edward's fingertips on her skin. The summer air is foggy and murky, shrouding the meadow in an eerie green haze. She can feel the damp, soft grass against her back, tickling her exposed flesh. Edward's hands slither down to her neck, caressing and stroking, his thumb lingering over her pulse point. She slides her eyes open, looking up at Edward.
"What's wrong?" she asks softly, laying her own hand on Edward's.
Edward winces slightly, shaking his head. "I've never wanted you so badly before, Bella."
Bella smiles serenely, staring up into the eyes of her one true love. "You can have me, Edward. You know that, right?"
Edward continues to shake his head, his fingers snaking along her collarbone. He groans softly and Bella giggles.
"You wicked temptress," Edward murmurs lovingly. "You aren't helping. My self-control is withering enough without your help."
The hunger in Edward's eyes makes Bella feel good, in a way that fills her insides with warmth and desire. "Kiss me, Edward."
He stiffens, for only a second, his fingers stopping their meticulous patterns along Bella's skin. But then he's leaning forward, his eyes never leaving Bella's, his normally topaz eyes coal black and wide. And just before his lips touch Bella's, something shifts in his eyes. The hunger turns to famine, the want turns to need. The passion turns to a deadly craze and Bella's eyes widen in fear.
But his lips are on hers, and it feels good, so good. His kisses are heady and deep and nothing is holding him back. Bella knows she is in trouble, but she can't pull away. She's enraptured and dazed and everything is spinning. She turns away from him, trying to get away, but he has her pinned down. He pulls away from the kiss and Bella can again see that look in his eye—that deranged, maniacal thirst. And as he lowers his head again—slowly, so slowly—she knows that this time his aim won't be for her lips, but for the rapidly beating pulse in her neck. And as his cool, supple lips come into contact with her neck, she screams one long, terrifying scream. She can feel his smooth teeth against the skin of her neck, and time seems to slow as he shifts his head just so, so that his incisors are barely a breath away from her frantically throbbing pulse.
Edward's crushing weight is off her in a flash, but Bella is still screaming. She can hear yelling, commotion, and the harsh, booming thud of rock slamming into rock. The sky is still spinning, dipping and turning, and she digs her hands into the dirt, curling her fingers around the blades of grass. She feels sick and scared and so, so dizzy, like the world is slipping from her fingertips and she has to hold on tight to keep from falling off.
-
"Bella? You alright?"
Bella jerks awake, the sand now cool against her cheek. She'd been dreaming, again, about last night. The haunting, realistically scary nightmare had been appearing in her dreams all day, during the constant naps in the never-ending car ride. But every time she awoke, she was comforted by the presence next to her, solid as a rock, hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.
Jacob.
"Yeah," Bella replies blearily, dusting the sand off her face. The beach is barren and dark, empty except for the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
He extends his russet-colored hand towards her and she takes it without hesitation, his skin smooth and rough all at the same time as he pulls her to her feet. "Come on, we've got to get to our hotel room. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day. First day of our new lives, and all."
She grimaces, not looking forward to all the job applications and home searching that awaits her in the morning. But this was what she wanted after all, this fresh new start. A chance to put the past behind her and move on to a bright, new future that involves her best friend and whatever else lies ahead.
Hope you guys liked it! Thanks for reading :)