*Disclaimer* I own absolutely no part of Twilight or its characters
Nothing
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She was in his arms, eyes half lidded, blood seeping from the wound in her neck, trying her best to stay with him for as long as possible. He was trying to keep it together, trying not to let the horrid sight before him tear through his sanity. Dying…dying…leaving.
She was leaving him.
Leaving him alone.
He pressed her motionless body to against his, squeezing his eyes as hard as he could, trying to shed a tear. Of water, of blood, it didn't matter. As long as it was something…
But nothing came out. His cheeks were as cold and dry as ever.
"Bella…" Edward whimpered into her hair. "Please don't go. Please don't leave me…please don't leave me…"
Bella twitched her fingers, trying to hold him, but not a single morsel of energy was left in her. There was only enough to say one thing, one sentence, and she would make sure it counted.
"Edward," she whispered into his freezing ear, pressing her mouth to it lovingly. "I love you."
Her head slumped into his shoulder, eyelids drawing closed, and her last breath whisked gently into the vampire's ear, warm and fleeting.
Edward drew back, eyes wild, cupping her cheek gently in his. It was warm. Her cheek was still warm. So she must still be alive.
She must be!
"Bella…?" Edward called in a coarse whisper. A sharp laugh escaped his lips, and his voice increased a fraction. "Bella, wake up, love. Come on, please come back to me."
Nothing.
"Bella, answer me…"
Quiet.
"Bella!" This time Edward's voice came out as a vicious and agonizing roar.
Still nothing.
His mind was in a frenzy, his emotions spiraling in a storm of chaos. He didn't understand why she wasn't answering him! Her face was still warm, still had color, so why wouldn't she answer him?
Then again…any temperature felt warm when compared to his. He was a vampire, a monster. Her blood smeared his clothes, his hands…his mouth. He felt the venom in his fangs mixing with the elixir of her blood, and he wanted to vomit. His eyes, he felt, were blacker than they've ever been, now dulling back to a listless gold, satiated from the most forbidden sustenance in the world.
Sick…he felt sick. Horrified. Terrified. And enraged. At himself.
What have I done?
Edward stared at the girl in his arms, unable to process the lifelessness in her form, the paling of her skin, the dropping of her temperature.
The absence of her heartbeat.
Once more, and for the last time, he called her name, quietly, desperately, hoping to catch a breath slip from her pulpous lips in the form of his name.
"Bella?"
Nothing.