A/N: Sorry its so short. Its kinda my first fanfiction... ever. I hope you enjoy. comments are appreciated. :)

Disclaimer: despite my desperate pleading with the gods above, I do not own Twilight or any of the amazing characters within it's pages. all belong to the amazing Stephenie Meyer.


"Please, Edward?" I whined in desperation. It was three days before my eighteenth birthday, and I was a mere thirty-six hours from being doomed to spend the rest of my existence older than the love of my life.

"Sorry, Bella. No can do," he whispered back, burrowing his face into my hair and breathing deep, sending shivers down my spine. Gently, he shifted his body down to my level, and began to slowly kiss along the length of my jaw line. "I…will…not… take…your...life," he murmured softly between kisses.

Despite his utterly frigid temperature, each kiss he planted produced a point on my skin that burned for more.

"Pleeeease Edward…" I begged in a sigh, "before it's too late?"

"So sorry, angel, but I will not. You are my life, and my reason for existence, but I will not take away your soul. I will not cause your death," he said, with a slight tinge of sorrow wavering in his voice. He pulled back, and his awesome beauty overtook me as I gazed at his messy disarray of bronze hair and into his soft, gentle eyes gleaming topaz, fresh from his most recent hunt. "Can't you be content with a long, long life with me?"

Oh there he goes again! I thought. I can't stand it when he goes on about me staying human forever. How weird would that be? I would continue to grow old, and he would never change. I would develop wrinkles, my breasts would sag, and, eventually, my heart would fail, and I would leave my Edward forever. At this thought, the tears began to well.

"No, sweetheart, please don't cry," Edward crooned, pulling me closer to him. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here as long as you'll have me," he said, trying to reassure me. But his attempt at reassurance only succeeded in sending me into hysterics.

"But I am!" I cried, sitting up and staring longingly into his heart-breakingly beautiful face, the tears flowing steadily. "I will die, Edward! One day, my heart will stop, and I will be placed in the dirt for an eternity. I can't bear the thought. I don't want that to be an option. I want to be one you. I want to be with you…forever."

"Shh, Bella… my Bella, my angel, just breathe. You must calm down, or you will wake Charlie. I'll be here with you, all the way through. I'll be here when you are thirty, forty, and ninety; I will. I promise to you, Isabella. I'll be here."

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Decades Later:
And he was there. He was there on my eighteenth birthday, and my fortieth. He was there through every job promotion, and there when I retired. We moved to Venezuela, and even lived in Paris for a few years. Our stories had to change, and throughout the years, Edward was known to others as my boyfriend, son, and then grandson. We knew, however the true story; he was husband, and I was wife, and he was always there. Even today, as I lie on my deathbed, he is here, lying beneath me stroking my now grey hair, and humming my lullaby. As I take my last breath, and as my heart stutters to a stop, he is there.