AN: Hello everybody! This is my first Twilight-fic, so please enjoy, leave a little feedback and do come back for more :) Sorry about the language and grammar though. English is not my first-language.
Summary:
Bella Swan is a normal girl, whose life changes drastically after an encounter with Edward, an angel. However, there is something that differentiates him from other angels; his black wings and his promised throne, on which he shall rule over the rest of the black-winged angels. How can their love blossom in the midst of an impending war between the white-winged and black-winged angels?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this plot. All credits go to Stephenie Meyer, whose talent never ceases to amaze and dazzle me.
A Winter of Longing
PREFACE:
He looked into my eyes, seeing everything. How could he be so beautiful? Normally I would not use the term 'beautiful' to describe a man,
but the man in question was not a normal man. How offending the thought was! He may possess human-like qualities, but of course; one
should never judge a book on its cover.
Do you believe in angels? You are probably having various associations, containing supernaturally beautiful creatures with wings and halos.
Mere stereotypes, I tell you, because they are simply embellished fantasies created by people like you and I, mortal beings. I, myself, only
thought of them as made-up fantasies, to offer us moral support when needed. But then again, how often do we actually listen to our
conscience? How many times do we, in times of doubt, resolve to the heart vs. head debate? Quite a lot. Just like now... My head tells me
to wake up and snap out of this dream-like state. Why should I wake up, when I'm finally with him? My personal angel. The only thing that
was off, was that his wings were black.
"You look troubled, love. Care to share your locked thoughts?" he smiled his crooked smile, in which I had fallen for the first time our paths
crossed. I shook my head and closed my eyes, while smiling. "Nothing is troubling me, I am just enjoying your presence" I answered and
patted the empty spot next to me. My bed was big enough for two – even three.
His face portrayed disappointment and sorrow, and what bothered me the most was that he had no intentions on joining me on my bed or
whatsoever. "I should not even be here... My master would not approve of it, but then again being rebellious has its perks" he smirked
after having, what I assumed, an internal debate. He retracted his beautiful black wings and climbed in next to me. He wrapped his strong
and muscular arms around me. I felt so welcomed and warm in his embrace, and I knew that his arms were made for my body, as was his
hand made for mine. My eyes slowly dropped to a close as my CD-player on the nightstand whispered the remains of Dashboard
Confessionals "Stolen".