Here's the first installment of Strangled by the Thought, a Fic I'm writing in all my spare time. It has a choppy time line, but most of the events take place between New Moon and Eclipse. Of course all these characters, themes and such belong to Stephenie Meyer. I couldn't think this shit up. Come on.
Please bounce over to thetopdrawer*dot*tumblr*dot*com for music and artwork connected to each chapter. I'll be posting the specific songs and images for the chapters before each one here, but they'll all be links to The Top Drawer. Have a peak, you won't regret it, promise!
Song:
thetopdrawer*dot*tumblr*dot*com/post/1382919958/song-for-chapter-one-of-strangled-by-the-thought
Image:
thetopdrawer*dot*tumblr*dot*com/post/1382995454/photo-inspiration-for-a-scene-between-edward-and
Strangled by the Thought
Part I
EPOV (Edward's Point Of View)
1
Orange, dying light broke through her window blinds. I watch the sun shift and change each wall from fire to starry twilight. We're in for a hot, sleepless summer's night, the kind she never manages to sleep through. A restless sigh draws my attention to the bed. She looks so vulnerable and seductive, twisted around the sheets. Innocence and power wrapped in pale thin skin. A light sheen of sweat covers her body and I stand in awe as her scent washes over me. Honey and amber. Lightly, reverently, I run my hand across her clavicle. So beautiful, so sweet.
Somewhere a train rumbles by. I wait for her to wake.
The parking lot is almost empty; a lone 18-wheeler sits slumped in the distance. Halogen streetlights buzz overhead, illuminating black wet asphalt with pillars of blue light. I walk through the rain, from light pillar to light pillar, to the front door. A sad bell signals my coming and no one is there to greet me. The diner is encased in orange vinyl booths and 1970's chandeliers. Faux bois wallpaper covers every vertical surface, giving the dining area a gaudy, surreal atmosphere. I take a booth toward the back right, next to the largest window overlooking the parking lot.
"Oh my, I didn't hear you come in."
A sweet, tired looking waitress bustles out of the kitchen. She busies herself by fixing a stray strand of hair and taking a pad from her frilly apron. Behind her I note the missing trucker as he slinks from the kitchen door. He takes his obligatory seat at the counter.
"What'll it be, hon?"
She eyes me, like all human females do, and smiles a bit wider.
"Coffee, black. For now."
"Coming right up."
She bustles off toward the trucker; he pats her ass as she passes. His thoughts are milling through a combination of miles, weather and screwing the waitress across the kitchen counter. She's thinking of her young son and money, which runs constantly through her head. The trucker has no knowledge of her son; she's using the trucker for money. Neither loves the other, not really. Lonely jobs conclude in lonely relationships, I don't need to know their thoughts to understand this. But with an involuntary mental spasm, I know them nonetheless.
"Coffee, black."
She turns the mug over and pours a foul smelling liquid in front of me.
"You need anything more, just holler."
I fidget with a packet of sugar, slowing pouring and stirring it pointlessly into the cup. Practicing my human charade.
Jacob is nowhere to be seen, 15 minutes late. Lights weakly flicker in and out and I hear the waitress cluck her tongue in disappointment. This passing thunderstorm is digging in for the evening; I watch as my window gradually turns into a waterfall of glass.
Somewhere between two or three in the morning, she wakes with a start.
"Bella, love, are you okay?"
She's shivering. Her eyes are half open, but unseeing. I drop the book I'm reading and gently rub her back.
She relaxes, and turns over to sleep again.
I return to my book.
The forest is dark and alive, murmuring to me as I glide across her surfaces. I pass invisible, another wraith moving through the night. Summiting a large group of cliffs, I scan a glassy black lake stretched out far below me. Thick trees surround its small shore, choking the water off from the rest of the world.
My unnaturally sensitive eyes spot the target immediately. I watch him lap water from the shore, just like a dog. Disgusting. A man should not act so feral. I'm dealing with no man tonight.
How could she care for that animal? I need to resolve this now, away from my family and on his turf. I need dominance. Stepping of the cliff's edge, I plummet from the rocks in a reckless freefall. From somewhere deep inside a hideous, manic laugh bubbles up and out. It's evil tasting and I can't stop it if I wanted to. I laugh uncontrollably as I fall through the night.
His enormous head jerks in my direction before he can see me. Barring his teeth in a low, menacing growl, he turns his back to the lake. I land nosily in the brush, crushing and breaking as I go. The sound is staggering, a comet colliding with Earth. When the last echo dies and the dust has settled with the silence, I emerge slowly from a shock still forest. His heckles raise and he backs slowly into the shallow water. I advanced deliberately toward him.
"Good evening, Jacob."
Deep growls roll through his teeth, his mind roaring one simple thought.
"My land, Bloodsucker."
By 4 A.M. she's breathing quietly, rhythmically. One, beat, beat, two, beat, beat, three. Finally sleep has taken her. Where does she go when she sinks into unconsciousness? Are you thinking of me, my gentle Bella?
I've forgotten the release of sleep, the ability to get out of your head and into the black nothing for a few short hours. Bella thinks my intensity is odd, sometimes inappropriate, but all I can do is think. I have no release from my thoughts, no time to unconsciously process them into sane and insane categories. No detachment.
The vulnerability of sleeping terrifies me. That's why, for her protection, I have this compulsion to be with her every night. But I would gladly trade invulnerability for a chance to join her just once, to sleep and dream together.
Another look at the time, 26 minutes late. I hope I don't need to drink my sugar-filled prop. Looking out the window I can see the highway, almost empty, though occasionally a set of blurry lights blaze by. Did he decide to drive that wreck of a car out here? Is he with Bella? Oh, that would be slick: me sitting in this dive pretending to drink coffee for an audience of two rednecks while he's making time with her. Just perfect, fucked over by a dog. Emmett will never let this go, if he finds out. Which he will. Because Jacob will tell everyone the first chance he gets. Shit.
Just as the waitress picks up a fresh pot of coffee, Jacob waltzes through the door. His hair is wet, but his clothes are dry and he's wearing the rare shirt and shoes. Maybe he did drive.
"Hey Tampon Eater."
He squeezes into the booth and grabs a menu. The waitress looks shocked; apparently she heard him. Pot of coffee in hand, she turns on her heel and heads straight toward her trucker buddy. Jacob and I watch passively as she repeats the words "tampon" and "eater" into the trucker's ear.
"Tampon Eater?"
I repeat in a low hiss.
"Really?"
Jacob shrugs and looks at the menu.
"And you're late."
"I ran into the pack. Not everyone can lie to family so easily."
That stung. My family, including Bella, believes I'm out hunting, blowing off some steam. The truth can't be farther away from my weak lie.
The trucker lumbers over to us, puffing up his gorilla-like build.
"Hey, you punks. You gotta problem?"
Jacob and I look him over. Poor guy, he has no idea he's picking a fight with a vampire and a werewolf. At the same time. Some luck.
I manage a 'No, Sir.'
Jacob just stares, his amusement clear.
"This here is a family joint, and that there is a lady. You don't like it, you take it somewhere else, got it?"
I manage a 'Yes, Sir.'
Jacob returns to his menu.
I raise my hands in an open gesture.
"I want to talk, nothing more."
He barks out a growling laugh.
"Your impulse will cost you, Leech. This is a deliberate break of the treaty. A pact you and your family made."
He's right; I am endangering my family by coming here. Giving his pack the right to expose us to the community of Forks, perhaps to the world. If he loves her he'll keep his tongue, he won't blatantly destroy her life. At least, that's my hope.
"They don't know I'm here. This choice is mine and likewise the danger."
He levels his huge yellow eyes on me.
"That isn't the deal. I can kill you now and they can't do shit about it. Stupid choice, Leech."
I lower my hands, clenching them only slightly.
"I'm here for Bella, Jacob. You can try to kill me now, but you'll never find out why I broke the treaty."
His ears flatten against his head and a constant low growl issues from his throat. His claws are out; they looked like black daggers digging into the sand.
A tense moment passes. In his mind I can see him debate between lunging for my throat now or calling his pack so all of them can destroy me and then start on my family. Burning down our home; ripping and rendering each vampire as they try to escape. The fantasy is elaborate and horrifying, detailed. Something he's thought of often.
Then he thinks of Bella. The image he conjures is of uncomplicated beauty and perfect trust. With shock I realize he sees her with simple, devoted love, much like myself. My astonishment quickly dissolves into resentment.
As he pictures Bella he stops growling and heaves a sigh.
"My pack is near, they'll hear my thoughts soon. I need to transform."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Ok. That's a start."
"Good morning!"
I pop my head in the bathroom as she's brushing her teeth. Before she can protest I snap a photo.
"Hwerey!"
She sputters with a mouthful of toothpaste, grabbing at the camera. It's gone before she has a chance.
"Ah, ah." I scold. "For the human scrapbook."
I've never seen someone spit toothpaste so angrily. It's adorable.
"Can't I look 'human' for the human memory book?"
"Human scrapbook, Darling."
"Whatever that is, Weirdo. I'm barely conscious."
"You look fine. Better than fine. Radiant!"
"Sure, sure. You are such a liar. And a Polaroid camera? God, do you have to be so, so…hip all of the damn time?"
"I…" She's a mess, bleary from sleep and in rumpled pajamas. I can't help but smile, "I'm sorry, I just can't take you seriously until you brush that bird's nest on your head…."
Oh, now she's pissed.
"Alright!" She pushes me toward the door, well, I let her push me. "Humans only. Every perfect, sparkly, mythical creature needs to clear the fuck out!"
The door literally slams in my face. I take the Polaroid from my pocket. It's perfect, in every way.
The trucker nods and signals to our waitress. She pads over, as coy as a cat.
"Alright, Maggie, they're ready for you. Ain't you boys?"
I manage a nod; Jacob coughs from behind his menu. Maggie looks smug as she takes Jacob's order. To my amazement he orders a full two meals, enough disgusting food for the both of us. My stomach churns at the thought of his 'Farmer's Special' and 'Eggs over My-Hammy' spread out on the table before us. And he orders a milkshake. I shudder.
"You look pale, Fang Face. Well, pale-er."
"Milk sickens me."
He snorts in delight. I grip my coffee cup.
"What?"
"You don't find that the teensiest bit hypocritical? I mean, it's kind of the same thing as blood."
"No, it's really not."
"What-ever. You got no sense of humor, Eddy."
"Oh, and 'Tampon Eater' is suppose to be the height of wit?"
"Yeah, a real riot. What do you do about that whole thing, anyway? I'm probably not far off the mark."
"I am not talking about this. With you."
"So it is an issue? Sick man, real gross out."
I snap my teeth shut and lock my jaw. Was there a button he wouldn't push tonight? The handle of my coffee mug breaks off with an audible ping.
"Easy there Leech, don't want to ruin another thousand dollar jacket with bad coffee stains."
His food arrives in all its greasy, sloppy glory. It encompasses most of the Formica tabletop. I feel ill as the smells invade my hyper senses. Jacob hands Maggie the broken mug handle.
"Oh, no. Now how did that happen?"
She grabs my mug to inspect the damage and hesitates when she sees the untouched coffee. I glare at Jacob, he shrugs.
"Besides a new mug, can I get you two anything else?"
"No ma'am. Thank you, this milkshake tastes very creamy. Did you use 2% or whole milk?"
She shoots Jacob an odd glance.
"1%, actually. Right, uh, thank you. I'll be back to check on you two later."
Once she leaves Jacob begins stuffing his face with food. The sight is unsettling.
"Thanks for calling attention to the mug, could you make me any more obvious?"
"Hey Death Breath, not my fault you don't eat. You make yourself obvious."
"This isn't just about food, is it?"
He manages a headshake in between large gulps of pancakes.
"No, s'not."
"You think you're more human than me."
Folding my arms across my chest, I lean back away from the diner grease smell. I close my airways in the hopes of staving off nausea.
"Damn straight. And it's not just food. It's everything. She doesn't have to die to be with me. And her life doesn't have to stop, either."
"Stop as in…"
I knew his answer before he swallowed. It was one I tortured myself with often.
"As in continuing the Swan family line. As in kids."
Bam. There it was. Children were not something Bella necessarily wanted right now, but their possibility, or impossibility rather, represented a larger issue. She did have to die to be with me. Die in the human sense of the word and give up all the changes she could experience throughout her natural life. Changes like becoming pregnant. I jumped slightly when waitress Maggie sets my new mug down.
"It really bothers you, doesn't it?"
Jacob is already halfway through his giant meal and begins to slow his food inhalation. He points a syrupy fork at me.
"If it gets to you, why don't you stop all this? Hell, why start it in the first place?"
I tried to sigh, it comes out as more of a shutter.
"I'm selfish."
"Damn right. You're using her to feel more human."
I leveled my eyes on him, willing him to burst into flame.
"You're wrong, Dog. I do not wish to be human. She is no medium for my lost life. She does not connect me to this world. She connects me to the next."
He drinks a huge slug of milkshake and grabs my coffee, finishing it in a single gulp.
"Man, if I had your faith…. So she's your heaven?"
"Nothing so trite. But yes, she's my sanctuary. My haven."
"Your blood bag."
I snap his fork in two.
"There's no solace in her blood."
He looks at the broken tool and sighs, pushing his almost empty plates from him.
"I see how you kiss her wrists, how you taste the air around her. You treat her like meat. Like she's food for you to consume."
"I'm not after her blood. I love her, Jacob. I would not see her harmed for the purpose of feeding. Never in a thousand, thousand years. The thought strangles me."
"Years you have and she doesn't. It's not just the blood; it's the contradiction of who you both are. I can grow with Bella, live with her. You're frozen, an outsider to life. Anti-life."
"Real deep, Jacob."
His face tightens. I see this is finally the real conversation we have been dancing around all night. No more jokes or jabs, it's time to settle this.