If Monsters Didn't Exist: A Twilight Drabble
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, you would be able to tell. Trust me.
A mirror is the flipside of reality, he muses.
It surprises Jacob Black, how human he looks in the mirror. He doesn't feel human, not anymore; there was no ignoring the swift, persistent beating of his heart, or the rollercoaster-rush of blood that roared in his ears when he knelt down exhaustedly to pray for sleep. Neither was the well-oiled new grace to his movements quite natural. However attractive it might look to the outside observer, Jacob always feels like he is closer to the Porches and Ferraris that he admires in car lots—fast, sleek, and mechanical.
He raised his right hand—the mirror-man's left—and reached to brush his fingertips across the smooth, cool surface of the glass. A brief flash of memory, however, had him recoiling at the texture. The image of the wedding invitation, currently sitting on his kitchen table, swam in his eyes. His thoughts (untangled with the others', for what seemed like the first time in a while) swooped in an unpleasant, stomach-dropping way, before compacting sharply and forcefully into a single word: Bella.
Bella Swan—cold, beautiful, perfect, graceful, atypical, abnormal. Inhuman. Jacob Black—hot, fast, strong, sleek, freakish, irregular. Inhuman. And yet they both would look so normal, peering into a mirror. Jacob made a fist, and gave a last, hard look at his reflection.
Mockingly, it reflected back what might've been, if monsters didn't exist.