Up. Down. Up. Down. A short pause, and then again... Up and down, up and down. Irregular breaths came from the sleeping figure laying in the last bed. What seemed to be its chest, moving backgrounds and forwards in an uneasy pace.

A nervous nurse entered the room; her petite figure passed in front of the three empty beds, the white sheets shinning with the light of the sun, which entered through the large oval window in the side wall. She stopped her fast walk in the last bed, where shadows prevailed, and, with a quick glance to the chair that lay at its side, she left out a long breath she didn't know she was holding.

Her tiny brow eyes revealed her anxiousness, and her evident soothing at the empty chair. He wasn't there; nothing was going to happen to her. She kept repeating that in her head, like a mantra.

More relaxed, the nurse started doing the check up over the unconscious woman. Her most loathed patient was still alive, fortunately. That was everything that mattered. But she would better keep her thoughts to herself; she should be more careful around both of them, even if the girl was out cold.

After finishing with the routine, she raised a hand towards the body's icy left cheek, stroking it tenderly.

- Poor girl... - the nurse lamented with a sigh.

Suddenly, a freezing hand grabbed her wrist, while a menacing voice whispered in her ear, glacial lips brushing against her tanned skin.

- Don't you dare touch her, you filthy human.

The words were uttered in such an impartial and emotionless tone, that the mere sound of it sent shivers running through the nurse's spine.

She turned to the man at her left, a terrified look on her eyes. He narrowed his eyes further, while a frown appeared in his face. The nurse nodded her head nervously as he glared at her, and as soon as the man let go the grip on her hand, she disappeared faster of what was humanly possible from the room, deciding better not to return again, ever, if it was possible.

Once the man was left alone with the girl, he finally let his muscles relax, if only slightly. His immaculate bronze hair was left completely dishevelled, probably due to many restless nights spent sitting in the chair at the girl's bedside.

Only if he was by himself could he let his emotions, or what where left of them, return. And at that moment, all he could feel was the exhaustion finally catching up with him. So, in a brief minute of weakness, his well-built figure - toned, but lean - got its deserved rest as the man laid himself in the bed, next to the sleeping body.

The sharp features of his hard face released a smile, which was carefully spreading in his face. Nonetheless, it was a joyless smile, of grief and pain, and it was reflected in his eyes. His amber eyes, which had a small tint of crimson, had lost their ever-present twinkle. The happiness that had used to reign in them for those last months, had utterly disappeared, only to be replaced by constant worry and weariness. Even then, some small tinge of his past self could still be found if one searched deep enough. When the man's gaze was centred in the unconscious girl, the love he felt was tangible in the air and for a second, one could see the man he used to be standing in his place.

And so it did at that moment, while he spoke quietly to the sleeping body.

- Everything will be fine, love. Nobody will ever hurt you again. I swear that on my life, my Bella.

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AN: My first fan fiction ever, I don't even know where it came from... I was just wondering to what extents Edward would go if it was for Bella, while reading Twilight and this idea just pops up into my head. The only thing I have ever written where poems or short non-fictional stories... but well. It's just a one-shot, though; I wouldn't be able to write a longer fan fiction to save my life.

This is my first 'story', so I'm not killing for reviews, but there would most certainly be nice :)

Disclaimer: I don not own Twilight, Stephanie Meyer does.