"Jacob." The name was as a whisper, as a prayer. A prayer screaming to be answered, begging to be overlooked.

He didn't wake, of course. No voice so quiet could ever hope to rouse a sleeping werewolf. As she watched him slumber, Bella Swan fought a very familiar battle. She could slip away now, so easily, and he would never be the wiser. Jacob Black would never have to know that a crazy girl had visited him in the night, stroking his hair and whispering his name. If she left now, it would be better. Better for him. A clean break.

No. She was too selfish for that.

They all were.

"Jacob Black," she whispered directly into his ear, "I need you to kiss me. You need to wake up now." No great shock, he did.

"Bella?" he mumbled sleepily. "Bells, whaddya saying?" His mind cleared quickly, and the full realization of the situation hit him. "Bella!" His mouth took on the smile, her smile, that she had missed so much. She winced. "Whaddya doing here, Bells? It's late! How long have you been standing there? Isn't tomorrow your…"

She watched his face fall darkly as reality sobered his giddy rambling. "My wedding, Jacob. Yes."

"What the hell are you doing here, Bells?" His overexcited grin had vanished entirely, replaced by the scowl he usually reserved for vampires. It scared her, but after a deep, shuddering breath, she somehow spoke the words she had come to say.

"You make me hurt, Jacob."

He blanched. "I make you hurt? I make you hurt?"

He was fuming, but she pressed on. "Loving you…makes me hurt…in my soul."

"Loving me? Bella-"

"Jacob!" His name was no longer a prayer, but a scream. A scream that carried with it so much desperation and fear and tragedy that he actually fell silent. "Loving you hurts, Jacob. Loving you hurts in my soul. It aches down into the core of myself. Loving you has become a part of who I am…of who I am now.

"So I just want to hurt a little bit tonight. I need this memory. This echo of your ache in my soul. Just in case…" Her voice caught in her throat. "Just in case, after tomorrow, I don't have a soul to ache in anymore."

He was perfectly still. A hundred thousand words filled his mind. Words to retort, to respond, words he wanted to whisper in her ear and scream in her face. Words to tell her how selfish she was, how cold. Words to tell her exactly how long he'd waited for her to ask. Everything he'd ever wanted to verbalize to her bypassed his lips in that split second, yet he stayed quiet. Instead, he crushed her to him, speaking with his mouth on hers in the only way she needed.

And her soul ached that night.