Asleep

There is a really good reason why Isabella Swan doesn't like to get up in the morning. Bella/Alice


I stayed awake, a little short after midnight, waiting. The window was left open, even though Forks was in the transition from fall to winter; I somehow enjoyed the bittersweet cold. The way its freezing breeze came in and made me shiver, the way it reminded me of a certain someone. The cold didn't bother me, at least, not as much as it should; nothing bothered me when it reminded me of my love.

"You're going to get sick that way, you know?" Speak of the devil. Or angel.

"You're late." I reply absently, trying to feign spitefulness that didn't exist in my voice. Inside, I felt relief come over me, happiness tugged at the corner of my lips trying to force a smile, while butterflies were doing dances in my stomach, my entire body seem to react to her presence.

"Since when did I have a curfew?" she questions rhetorically. Her voice sounded so sweet, like soft jingling bells, music to my ears. I notice her figure, standing in front of the window with the moonlight outlining her curves and small pixie-like body, and suddenly it was getting very difficult to breath. In these moments, I am thankful to be alive; to be able to see her beautiful face, hear her nightingale voice, touch her marble like skin. Then there are other times. When she isn't around, disappearing off in a moment's notice, and like some sort of obsessive love struck girl, I go crazy. Worry engulfs me and loneliness brews in my heart. I understand her kind and we humans were different; we couldn't be stuck together all the time.

Of course, the worry, the loneliness, the pain as if someone had taken a part of my soul and threw it out the window- they all disappear at the sight of her, only to be replaced by wants and needs. To touch her, to feel her, to be held by her, to be in her arms as she lulls me to sleep. As if reading my thoughts, she makes her way to my bed. I smile, scooting over to let her take her place beside me.

"Bella" she calls out. My name had once been so plane, so ordinary and insignificant, but when she said it, when she called it out, she made me feel important, she made me feel wanted. "You shouldn't stay up, especially with the window open like that; you're going to get sick."

"Well, if you would come earlier, we wouldn't have that problem, now would we?" I reply back, pulling the covers over us both. "Besides, Alice, you know I can't sleep when you're not here…" the confidence in my voice dies down, only a whisper remained when I finished.

"Aww, yes, my little baby, I'll try to come here faster" Alice teases, wrapping her arms around me. "Go to sleep now, okay?"

I looked up at her, trying to fight the heaviness in my eyes, taking the small body that was her into a hug. Alice's body is so small, so cold, yet truthfully inviting. Despite my size, a taller and much more built one compared to her ballerina frame, I found myself to be the submissive one on a lot of things. Especially the intimate ones.

"Tell me that again" I ask, my needy self coming out, that hug had been the last nail to the coffin for my self restraint.

"I have no idea what you want me to tell you." She laughs, giggling away.

"You know it, Alice…stop being so mean…"

"Why, no Isabella, I don't have a single clue what you're talking about" Damn this girl and her pouty face. "…. Besides, I want to hear you say it first."

"…I…care… about you, Alice"

"I can't hear you..!" Bullshit, she was a vampire; she could hear the owl hooting 20 miles away. "And I don't think that is the right phrasing either, tell it to me like when you first confessed it." That's right. When Alice wanted, Alice got. Even if it was at the cost of torching up my cheeks.

"I love you Mary Alice Brandon."

"I love you too Isabella Swan."

"And?" my turn to demand.

"And I'll never, ever, in my entire eternal life as a vampire, ever leave you."

Satisfied, I snuggled deeper into her curves, ready for sleep. "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Alice"


In a way, I love and hated sleep. When it came to falling asleep, I welcomed it as if it were my long lost brother, because Alice would always be there, strong arms hugging me tight, the coolness of her body contrasting with my warmth, the way our bodies seem to fit.

And in the morning, her charming voice would wake me up as the great alarm clock in the world. Then she'd have to leave, disappearing sometimes when I was in the shower, leaving only a note written in her perfect handwriting. Other times, she'd help me change, passionately digging through my closet for an outfit she called 'fashionable' and then vanish off when she saw me dressed in her style, the feel of her lips still lingering on mine.

In those times, when she goes off, the same thought comes; I hated waking up. I hate sleep. Waking up meant moving away from Alice, from her wonderfully addicting scent, from her longing arms holding me, it meant letting Alice go. Even if it was just a couple hours before I saw my pixie again, it didn't sooth the pain. Why wake up if it meant Alice going away?

There was a day, the first day that she began visiting me at night, when I realized how inviting the cold was. That morning, I remember particularly well, walking out from the front door dressed in one of Alice's outfits, as cold chill passed through me. It wasn't foreign, though. I pondered it a bit, wondering where else I had felt the nostalgic feeling before. It came to me that this feeling was the same feeling I had when Alice visited me at night. The way I had gotten up and opened the window to let her in. The feeling of seeing the one you love, feeling happiness, contentment, and bliss all at the same time when I let the cold air fall into my room. The same way her chilling arms wrapped around me and made me shiver. All of these feelings, these memories, would fly back every time the wind blew.

Tomorrow, I would leave the window wide open again, Alice would protest, and I won't mind. Besides, maybe if I got sick, it'd give me a reason to stay in bed with her instead of going to school.


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