It was past three in the morning when I drove back from the Cullen's mansion. It was one of those dark, gloomy nights, the kind of night that probably mirrored a place in hell. And It sure was.
Six months ago to this day, Eric Dealcroix had walked in on the heaven that I used to call my life. The first thing I noticed about him where his red eyes; the second, his love for Renesmee; my imprint.
He was a tall, teenage-y looking dude, one with dark black hair, skin as pale as any of the other Cullen's, and a body as thin as a branch. In a few ways, he reminded me of Edward. I am not gonna lie, I knew, from the very first moment, that he and Renesmee were doomed to eternity together. What I didn't know though, was why him. Why, out of every other boy, did she have to chose him? Why?
Now, though, I knew.
Bella had explained it to be as clear as the sun.
"To be honest with you, Jacob, I always knew that someone would come along and steal Renesmee's heart, and I always knew that it wouldn't be you. From early on, you two shared different opinions, views, and interests. You two shared nothing in common except for your respective statuses as half-beings and the fact that you two enjoyed each other's company. But from her side, Jacob, her feelings for you never surpassed that of a friend's or brother's. And that's not your fault, you can't change the way her heart is, Jacob, and you certainly can't change the way she feels about him. Love is such a strange ordeal, if it comes to it, the happiness of one's heart may lead to the misery of another, as in your case.
Renesmee wanted a boy who was strong enough to not bend underneath her will, and that's exactly what you have been doing her whole life. Anything and everything she asked of you, you did. That's not what Renesmee wants, she wants someone who will tell her that she is wrong and that as perfect as she is, she is still flawed. All you saw in her was perfection, and that's not who she is, and that's not who she wanted her future husband to see in her, either. She wanted him to see the real her, the flaws she possessed, and for him to accept her as she is, not as some nonexistent perfect creature.
She wanted a boy who shared the same interests as her, Jacob, someone who she could go and see an opera with, someone she could spend hours in the library with. Do you remember the time she took you to see Tosca, the opera? You slept throught it! What about the time she took you to spend a day in the library? You two were almost got kicked out because of your complaints about how "boring" the place was! She came home on both nights muttering about how uneducated you were and how she could have ever liked you in the first place. Esme had remarked that that was cruel of her, but I understood every word she said.
Renesmee never much cared for beauty in a man or for physical attraction, but he had both, Jacob. In ways that you didn't. Sure, he beats you on the beauty scale; but it was never about that, she sees a certain beauty inside of him, one that she couldn't see in you.
What I am trying to say here, Jacob, is that Renesmee knew what she wanted even before she met Eric. If she wanted you, you two would have been together by now; but she didn't. That being said, it doesn't make you any less of a man. This is simply how life is, you lose some and you win some."
Keeping my eyes on the road, I realized for the first time that there was truth to everything Bella had said. Everything she said struck a cord in my memory, a memory of them together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~[flashbacks]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"her feelings for you never surpassed that of a friend's or brother's."
"I am serious, Jacob! You know how much I value and appreciate you but you can't just continue on following me everywhere like that! What will people say? They will automatically assume we are either dating or in some sort of serious relationship; and we are doing neither. So please, I know it seems like a lot to ask, but I need my personal space, okay. You can call me anytime, though, and never hesitate to drop by—as long as someone else is home of-course. Goodnight." Renesmee quickly waved and sped away.
"she wants someone who will tell her that she is wrong"
"I still don't understand what's wrong with this composition, Eric. You keep on saying that it needs a bit more work but I can't see any areas of improvement. Maybe I should just quit altogether," she sighed and collapsed back on the piano bench.
"Please, the Renesmee I know would never quit," he chuckled. "Here, let me show you," he said as he leaned down and pointed to a spot on the music sheet, "right here. You are playing it wrong. It's not a regular C, it's a C sharp, that's what's making it sound so wrong," he smiled.
She looked up at him and stared right into his eyes for a few seconds before speaking, "you know, I have probably played this piece a thousand times to Jacob and he never pointed out that it sounded weird. I should have know better than to take his opinions on my compositions " she laughed, making a note on her music sheet.
"Is it because he is not a musician," Eric straightened up, looking puzzled at Renesmee's remark.
"No, it's because everything I play sounds perfect to him," she rolled her eyes and stood up.
He chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"She wanted a boy who shared the same interests as her,"
"Oh boy, am I tired," he said as collapsed on the bed.
She laughed, "oh please, you don't get tired, I do. You are being utterly rude now, Eric. Don't make fun of me just because you can easily stay awake for 24 hours while I can only do that after seven cups of coffee."
He threw his head back laughing, "fine, fine. I admit, I enjoy your drowsiness much more than I should. But you can't deny that we had a lovely time. I don't remember ever having this much fun going out dancing in all my 289 years."
She turned away from her dresser,"me too. I love dancing as it is, but with you, "she smiled,"it's so much more than fun."
"Don't forget we have those two opera tickets for next Friday," he said as he picked her up to gently lay her down on their bed.
"Oh trust me, I haven't forgotten," she smirked as she reached for the lights.
"Renesmee never much cared for beauty in a man"
He was hunched over a book in his lap, brows furrowed. He wore a cotton, blue sweater that hung a bit over his shoulder, exposing his collar bones. He was so lost in the book, that he didn't notice Renesmee eyeing him carefully as his thin fingers flipped through the pages. He only looked up when he saw a small smile appear on her lips from the corner of his eye.
"What," he asked.
"Nothing," she laughed, "its just that you look so handsome just sitting there, absentmindedly flipping through the book."
"Really," he faked surprise in his voice, "I didn't think you took me as handsome."
She laughed now, probably one of the loudest laughs he had ever heard, "what, I never told you that I thought you were handsome. Well then, I guess it's time to change that," she leaned forward, locking her lips with his, "I think, you are the most handsomest young man I have ever seen. As a matter of fact, I very much like the way you look," she smiled.
His eyes were filed with lust now, and if he could blush, he probably would, "you know, I never knew how much pleasure one can get just from words. Or maybe, it's your words that hold pleasure for me, not anyone else's," and with that he knocked the book off his lap.
"she sees a certain beauty inside of him"
"I ask myself everyday why I continue to bother with this whole "vegetarian" thing, while you and I could be easily hunting defenseless humans on the streets of Paris," he said wiping away blood from his lips.
Renesmee frowned, "Eric, we have spoken about this a million times before. Hell, we even had this conversation back in France when you asked me to try and hunt a human and I bluntly refused, " she stopped and smiled.
Besides," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, "I think you look so much better with golden eyes than with red ones," she smirked.
He leaned down now, bringing his lips to hers, "if you weren't so damn fragile and if I didn't love you more than life itself, I would have probably thrown you against that tree, " he chuckled.
She pulled back, hands against her heart, feigning hurt, "well, well, Mr. Delacroix, I never thought you had it in you to be so, so rough!"
He laughed, throwing his head back, "all I have known is how to be rough, gentleness is something I have only come to know when I came to know you," he smiled, picking her up and twirling her around as if she were nothing but a petal, and he, the wind.
"This is simply how life is, you lose some and you win some."
"Maybe you should get some sleep," he remarked, his voice full of worry. They were in bed, underneath the covers, both fully clothed. Her head was on his chest while one of his hands was intertwined with hers, and the other hand playing with her hair.
"I don't need sleep, " came her remark, "what I need is you," she said, putting the emphasis on the 'you' part.
He sighed, rather upset in some way, "I will be right here when you wake up, as a matter of fact, I rather enjoy your sleeping habits. I find it really cute when you turn and twist in your sleep, and it's really sweet how your always looking for my hand to hold," he smiled to himself.
"But when I go to sleep you are all alone with your thoughts, I know what that can do to young men," she smirked, drowsiness evident in her voice.
He laughed now, causing his chest to vibrate with laughter, the sound of his laughter lulling Renesmee to sleep, "I'm serious though, you should get some sleep. I will just hate myself if you don't, " he said.
"Why," Renesmee inquired, becoming more alert.
"Because," he sighed, "it makes me feel like our marriage has taken more comfort away from you than it has given you," he stated simply.
She pondered for a moment before speaking, "I don't think so at all, you have given me lots of things. Besides, me not getting enough sleep for one night isn't the end of the world. I am not a morning person anyway," she laughed.
"That's just the way life is, I guess, you win some and you lose some," and those were the last words she spoke before falling asleep, with a smiling husband beside her as he too settled down into the pillows and contently closed his eyes.
The sound of screeching tires took me out of my haze, bringing me back to the even more painful present.
I asked myself, had there ever been a time when my mind wasn't eternally engraved with memories of two love struck teenagers, one with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and the other with a pair of golden ones?