Italy was a beautiful place with rather dark secrets. Secrets that stayed secrets because a law was in place to prevent the humans that dwelled there to ever become conscious of what lurked around them. What Edward planned on doing now was a direct ploy of rebellion.
It wasn't his fault. If the Volturi had taken his plea for death seriously, he would not have to take the chance of jeopardizing them all, though he hardly thought it would come to that. The Volturi were swift. The second he stepped out from between the shadowy cover of the two buildings on either side of him, they would be on him, dragging him back into the darkness, and hopefully killing him in the process.
After all, death was the price for breaking the vampire law.
Edward welcomed that death, that sweet, cold embrace that would finally relieve him of his pain. He'd thought leaving Bella in the woods in Forks after his cold and short explanation of why had been the hardest, most painful thing he'd ever had to deal with. He was wrong. Because he'd left Forks, because he'd left Bella, Bella was--
His mind blanked abruptly, refusing to even think the word. Pain scissored across his chest, throbbed in his mind, but it was not physical. No physical blows had been landed to his pale white flesh. All the hurt he felt now could not be wiped away with a trip to the hospital. It was forever. It was complete.
He could not live without Bella.
And after his call to Forks, to the home of police chief Charlie Swan, he'd been given enough proof to know that his life was now done, because Bella was—
Again, his mind went starkly white, clean of all thought. That word didn't matter, because he wouldn't have to live with it for much longer. The sound of voices and laughter from the crowd gathered in this place washed over him, but Edward was detached. His eyes were closed. He did not see them, he did not hear them. They weren't there, because nothing existed outside of Bella, and Bella no longer—
Blank.
It was time. He could wait no longer. His thoughts only brought him more pain, his life only meant eternity without Bella, and he was done. Done, because he could not survive without her. Done, because he would never smell her sweet, lovely scent again. Done, because there was no Edward without Bella, no reason to continue to exist while everyone around him aged and died.
There was a feeling in his chest that Edward was not accustomed to. A tight feeling, like a weight pressed down on him, made it hard for him to breathe. But there was nothing visibly on his chest, not even a shirt. He'd stripped that off long ago so that his intentions would be made clear. He knew the Volturi were watching, and he knew that they were waiting for him to make the first move.
Very soon. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
He'd tried to stay away from Bella to protect her. He'd left and went into hiding to keep her from the harm that would inevitably find her if she continued to remain in his company. He'd done it all for Bella, and it had all gone so terribly wrong. She had ended her own life. She had jumped--yes, jumped!--from a cliff, and she had had to have known the horrible, crushing pain this would have bestowed on him. Perhaps it had been a bit of revenge for the horrid way he had treated her before leaving.
Well, point made.
It didn't matter anymore. He would join her soon, or he would cease to exist altogether. He would take either compared to what he had now, which was nothing.
It was time. He made all the pretenses of one about to step forward.
"Edward!"
Any second, he'd be in the sun that he'd had to shun for far too long. It would be on his skin, warming what could not possibly be warmed, and reflecting off him like a thousand of the brightest stars, which would, of course, startle the humans.
"Edward!"
And, in the end, the display would bring upon the attention that the Volturi so fiercely protected against. Just like that, he would be killed and hidden from view. He would no longer continue to exist through the years, the changes, the eras. It would be a brilliant release. He would escape.
"Edward!"
He could already hear her calling for him now. He could already imagine her face again. He could almost hear her words of forgiveness for what he'd done, and he could almost imagine them together again.
"Edward!"
That voice sounded so real. How cruel of life to taunt him for the last few moments he remained partners with it. He was leaving, he'd given up. Life could at least respect his last wishes to end in peace, to step into the sun and die in warmth with Bella's name on his lips.
He moved, just a fraction of an inch, and the next instant, something had dove into him, colliding solidly with his rock hard, bare chest. Whatever it was, it was warm. His arms came up around it almost automatically, as if it was a natural habit to embrace whatever had lunged for him.
Whatever was in his arms felt real. Natural. Solid. His.
He opened his eyes, and his ghostly smile bloomed into something much more full and human. Amazing. The Volturi worked very swiftly. He hadn't even felt a thing, hadn't even realized he'd stepped out of the shadows yet.
But he must have, because, in his arms, was the one thing he coveted the most, the one human. Release from the pain came then, flooded through him, dazzled him. Bella was in his arms.
Bella, Bella. His Bella.
He was dead then. It was done. He didn't mind. He didn't mind at all compared to how he'd once felt of death. Now he loved it, embraced it, much like he did with the human in his arms. Heaven must have been real, and he must have stood in it, because Bella was the most wonderful thing in the world, and she had been brought back to him.
His Bella.