A/N: Hello readers! This is Ribelle and I've penned down my thoughts and ideas on Twilight. I do not have a beta yet.

So, if you find any bothersome errors, let me know.

:) Meet me at the end!

Disclaimer: All original characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I do not own Twilight.

Prologue I: A lady's Imagination

BPOV

I could've never imagined Edward looking at me with those soulful eyes with anything but hatred and contempt boiling over in them.

It all started five years ago on the first day of med school. He loathed girls and I shunned guys. We were both a disaster waiting to happen. But the use of "both" here is a bit misleading. You should know upfront, this is not a story about two strangers eventually falling in love. This is different, for lack of a better word.

Edward Anthony Cullen was just the kind of guy you see girls swoon over. He was brilliant yet outrageously arrogant at the same time. But he hated the female kind. Thusly girls were always disappointed. Nevertheless his celibacy did nothing to impede their advances. I met him on the first day and that is probably the only memory I have of us speaking civilly with each other. He was sauntering along the corridor and I happened to inquire about the way to the library. That was it. The next time we met ended up in non-stop cussing from both parties. The heavens would part and we would pay no heed. That was because his chauvinistic side-which was a rather dominant facet of his personality-had made its first appearance. Both of us were the epitome of dogmatism and believed in arguing till the opponent admitted that we were naturally correct"not as a team of course.

You see, I am practically a wallflower and do not care about company. I loved solitude until he came along. I can hurt people when I talk to them, albeit unintentionally. There's a lot more to know about me and him which you will learn as we move along.

In a nutshell, as mathematicians would know, we were both mutually exclusive and exhaustive. Simply put, we were always at loggerheads with one another and yet we formed a whole. He was everything I was not-amicable, good-looking, fabulously intelligent, et cetera. Presumably, the only common trait between us was that we each possessed an ego the size of a black hole and that IS saying something. Two black holes competing for ascendancy, there you have the visual.

He wasn't a passive and unassuming creature; I was, at least on the outside. He didn't have the gumption to love, I did. He didn't give. I gave. He took, I didn't. He induced malicious remarks from me; I readily allowed him the satisfaction, knowing full well that I was far too gone to oppose the lure. Even as I fell for him, I could not do anything because it was like a force of nature. Yes, love is a force of nature. The biologists and Darwinians would agree with me. Ironically, we are perfectly capable of falling out of it, the same way we fell in.

Fighting was like second nature to us. I believe in destiny, do you? It wouldn't be entirely wrong to say we were born to bicker and quarrel. If you're wondering, yes it even got down to some tae kwon do action between us. Believe me; I almost beat him at it.

In the beginning his mere presence irked the life out of me. As years passed by somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't mind him so much anymore. He made me feel normal, feel home. I had always surreptitiously enjoyed his aggressiveness, anger, his delectable features, the way he would grab me (to which I responded with matching fervor if not greater). It was only later that my sexual need for him surfaced. I began to daydream about us in all desirable positions. It was a grudgingly painful period when I tried to come to terms with the aforementioned situation. I, Bella Marie Swan-who had hitherto never developed anything more than teensy-weensy crushes and had vowed to stay celibate-found it highly disconcerting. Imagine my horror.

Now that I think about it, I imagine various scenarios where we're together and happy. I create alternate universes for us where we are quite surprisingly, in love with each other. If you were to ask me to describe my dream guy back then, I wouldn't have had an answer for you. I didn't think about outlandish stuff like that. Yet, it should suffice to say that he carved his own niche in my mind, body and soul. Heart? I already gave it to him.

I still don't know if I love him. But what I do know is that I can't live without him. There's only one word humans have for such a feeling. Love. I accept my defeat.

Prologue II:Corazon de Piedra/Heart of Stone

EPOV

The incessant bouts of half-crazed need for her made it impossible for me to go a single day without succumbing to her memories.

She smelled like the heady aroma of wisteria. Her hair was so soft, flickering like the flames of a fire as she stomped towards me in unimaginable anger. Her tomboyish yet feminine clothes did nothing to conceal her curves. The way her nose stood to attention when I taunted her; and her clever repartee that never failed to amaze me. She was rebellious, self-assured, determined, surprisingly thoughtful and compassionate-surprising because I'd never been a recipient of those. Every memory tortured me; mocked me. I couldn't fathom how, when, where she had become such an important part of my life? How, when, where had she become my life? How could she walk away when I couldn't?

The memories brought back the hope lying dormant in my mind that maybe she had harbored feelings for me too, in spite of my demeanor towards her and our mutual hatred (or was it?). But then I brushed away the figments of my imagination as merely wishful thinking. She couldn't have possibly, or else she wouldn't have done what she did.

I blamed that wretched July morning for all my miseries. She had been just another girl that day, nothing more, only that day. I had directed her to the library while, unbeknownst to me, the heavens were meticulously contriving. I hadn't planned on spending my entire time in college on fighting for one-upmanship. How would I know to avoid her beforehand? I wasn't a clairvoyant. I didn't spare a thought for her back then, as was the custom for me.

We met again and again and I realized she wasn't entirely unworthy of my attention even though she belonged to the insufferable sex. I made it a point to unrelentingly remind her of her inferior status and that she was wasting time trying to make it big in a man's world. Medicine wasn't an exception to the rule. Our society was patriarchal in essence and that was the harsh truth. We men just left the insignificant stuff like homemaking to women.

Women were weaker, no matter how hard they tried. She talked outlandishly of being mentally stronger. What hogwash! They were all such shallow creatures who cared only about gossip, preening, crushing the emotions of those who happened to be in their lives-either by not understanding them at all or by not caring enough to even notice.

Do not get me wrong. My mother and father did not have the happy marriage. She left us when I was still a naive child. That made an everlasting impression on me. I seldom believed in the words and promises made by any woman.

I knew I hadn't been fair by demeaning and hating the womankind for my mother's sins. But I couldn't help it. There are things in life you can't help in spite of wanting to. It had been easier to give in to my alter-ego. I was just summarizing my erstwhile beliefs that Bella Swan irrevocably changed. She'd gradually invaded my subconscious and then conscious mind over the period of five years. Five years we were together, now we're not and it's killing me.

Time and again, Bella had challenged me with unending gusto. She had fought with me over assignments; tried to disprove every concept of mine. I'd reciprocated.

She'd sent my limbic system into overdrive. She brought out the extreme emotions in me. Anger, rage, lust. The way she'd planned on teasing me many times had awakened my libido for her. But her plans nearly always failed. I had been perfectly capable of dodging the enterprising lady's overtures. That didn't mean she was immune to my advances; nor was she gullible. We met an eye for an eye; we fought tooth and nail.

By the time the second year rolled around, we had already spiked each other's drinks, slapped and humiliated, broken rules to get back at each other, stooped to physical aggression and whatnot.

We doused one another in hot and cold, always cooking up new ideas while living our dreams. After three years I couldn't even keep count of the umpteen instances of defeats and victories I'd experienced.

I hadn't cared anymore and I was yet to realize it.

I'd found solace in her company, albeit in a very demented way. It never came to my notice that I wasn't actually seeking her for her ebullience but instead for the warmth that she soaked me with through and through.

Ah! It pained me to reminisce of her touch when she wasn't in reaching distance. She wasn't here to confront me. I couldn't even reassure myself of bumping into her again. Perhaps she knew what effect she had on me and that was why she'd left me to my devices-broken when I had no one.

Not only had she brought me down to my knees but also healed the gaping hole in my chest. We fit like a lock and it's key. She was the substrate to my enzyme. Though whether she was the lock or the key was highly disputable.

I wished she was here to watch my moment of weakness stretching into an abyss as I had finally let down my walls and inhibitions only to find her silhouette in the distance, far away from me. I was having an epiphany; a realization of some semblance of love in my heart.

A heart that I had, until now, believed to be made of stone.

A/N: Did ya like it? Could you review? Constructive criticism is always welcome. Go a little easy on me.

Now, about the story. I'm still contemplating whether I want to continue it or not. I will decide on the basis of the response from you guys. Do tell me. This will most likely progress as a timeline with excerpts from here and there. Rest assured, you shall not be disappointed.

The title's in Spanish guys. For your benefit, it means 'Guns and Roses'. A bit cliché, I know. ;)

Until I post again,

Ribelle