Ah, finally. My writing muses have been kind of slow lately, but after heavy reading, I've managed to churn out a lovely Jacob x Bella one-shot. Rated for sexual implications.


"This shouldn't have happened," she whispers.

Jacob looks at her.

They have pulled apart, and now they're curled under the blankets, near each other but not close enough to touch. She can still feel the heat radiating from him, and although she craves it more than anything right now, she wishes it wasn't there.

"This shouldn't have happened," she repeats, her voice cracking. "I—never—we—"

He silences her with a finger on her lips. "Bella," he says quietly.

She looks away. "He and I are still together."

"I know."

"It was just a fight. It was stupid."

"I know."

"Our wedding is tomorrow."

There is a pause this time, filled with silence and pain and things that were never spoken—not directly, anyhow.

And regret. Always there is regret.

"I know," he says again, finally, breaking the intermission.

Bella looks at him with tortured eyes. "I haven't…" she begins. "Edward and I…we haven't…"

Jacob sighs. "Yeah."

"This was my first…"

"Mine too."

"But…you're not the one who's…" Her eyes drift briefly, unwillingly, toward the ring on her finger.

"No. I'm not."

They're silent again for a while, and guilt starts to settle in Bella's heart like thin snow—blanketing over everything, but not enough to wish away the deed.

"I have to go," she says after a long time.

For the first time, pain enters Jacob's eyes. "I wish you wouldn't."

Bella smiles weakly. "I have to."


He drives her back home in silence, and parks halfway down the block from Charlie's so that he won't hear. He cuts the engine

"Are you sure you're making the right choice?" he asks.

Bella understands him, and wonders how he knows. Lately, she's been less and less sure of everything. She and Edward aren't supposed to fight, and she's not supposed to doubt herself, and Jacob isn't supposed to be the one to pick her up again. Not anymore. She's made this choice already; the ring is hard and permanent on her finger and everything should be perfect. Only it isn't.

She ponders his question. The truth is no. The lie is yes. She settles for somewhere in between. Neutral, Switzerland, like what she'd always pretended to be.

"I don't know," she answers softly.

"I wish this wasn't happening."

"I…I do, too."

They turn to look at each other at the same time, and neither looks away.

"I love you, Bella," he whispers.

"Jake…"

"I love you. You know I do." His smile is weak and fragile. "It's always been you."

She feels wetness pricking at the far corners of her eyes, stabbing viciously, and she places one hand on the door handle. "I'm sorry, Jacob. I'm so sorry."

He kisses her then, hard and desperate, and she whimpers as her hands move to grasp at his sides, reaching frantically. Trying to hold on.

He can taste tears on her lips.


Why can't I stop writing in present-tense? It's a curse, I tell you. A freaking curse.