A/N - Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. The angst is all mine.

This will be my last confession, I love you never felt like any blessing

- Florence and the Machine -

"You are my sun, Jake," she says, and I feel my heart burning up in anger again. It's not enough, it's never enough. I move my lips and shape a smile for her, while the beast inside is snapping at the edges of my skin. It wants out, wants to rip and tear, tempting me with the release of mindlessness.

Release. I want to run far from here and this nightmare, but I am bound by blood and honour.

My teeth show through the curve of my tight smile, fantasies coming unbidden of pouncing and snapping, biting and...

I squeeze my eyes shut, my hands shaking as I shove them deep into my pockets. I hate those urges, I hate the way the animal wants to leap at her and make her mine. Whether it's thoughts of fucking or killing, I hate the way that I lose myself more every time the Wolf licks it's lips.

I want to rip open my chest and show her my beating heart, show her my strong life and her name written there in my blood.

"I love you too Bells," the words sounding wrong and childish to my ears.

...

I no longer know who, or what the fuck I am any more. I have to remind myself of my name on days like this. The Wolf's skin slips so easily over my own now and I'm losing myself, drowning in the heat.

Love. It's supposed to make the world go round or some other shit like that, but what they don't tell you (unless you listen to Johnny Cash, but I'll just leave that to Dad) is that it can poison your soul. Life used to be so simple and easy, but then she came and now it's all fucked up. She carved her name on my heart, only to scratch it out again with venom. I hate what I have become for her, I hate the way that all she has to do is raise her eyes to mine and I'm lost again.

The pack hate this, and how they manage to keep it together around her is a mystery to me. Every time I phase they see this, see how much I hate what I have become and how much the Wolf itches under my skin for release.

I wear my love openly, where it can be chewed over and spat out for all to see. When I look at her, a part of me - the human part – wants to hold her and cover her with kisses, wants to keep her safe inside my arms where no harm can find her. My words are clumsy - I can never find the right way to tell her what she is to me, and I want so much for her to be able to read my love without words in the way. If I could just find the right way to show her how I feel, then maybe she would understand that she isn't really broken, she doesn't need fixing, and that all she needs is to just find a way to breathe and be herself.

Then there's the other part. The Wolf. The part that wants to rip and tear, to bite and fuck and make forever mine.

She doesn't see how much this is killing me. She doesn't understand that after every time she leaves, Idie a little more inside making more room for the Wolf to grow. I told her I loved her and that her friendship was enough, but I was lying. It's never enough. It will never be enough until her flesh is between my teeth and I am slammed deep inside of her, making her mine.

I have to get away from my thoughts, so I phase more and more now to run in the forest, but this only means the Pack get to see my shit in all its glory. Even they stay away from me now, knowing I am getting lost between human and wolf, and the lines are blurring more every day. I often wonder how it would be to lose myself fully in the beast and let him take me far from here, away from venom and half-love, away from Jacob Black.

So I bury these feelings when she's near. I want to savour the moments we have left. I try to act like it doesn't matter that she doesn't choose me, that our friendship is enough, but I die a little more every time. I smile and offer my heart again, and try to keep the snarling anger at bay until she leaves.

My face hurts from smiling all the time.