Disclaimer: All characters, places, and anything familiar from the Twilight Novels belong to Stephaine Meyer and Summit. The title to the song "True Romance" belongs to Justin Warfield and "Adam 12" Bravin and Perfect Kiss Records. Copyright infringement is not intended.

A/N: This is a one-shot that I thought up as I was listening to She Wants Revenge. I thought the song was appropriate for this story. Thank you so much feebes, you are an awesome reviewer and I hope that you like this shot. Please don't kill me for the way it ends, for this song, it has to end this way. The song I chose for this story, and gave me the inspiration for this story is 'True Romance' by She Wants Revenge. R&R and enjoy!

True Romance

PPOV

It was another day of waiting. Waiting like all of the other times. Well, not every time. It was before she took her little trip to Italy when she would always be here. I never had to wait for her then. Now, everything had changed. The anger and hatred bubbled up in me as I waited. Waited for her.

I look at the clock, it's nine forty-five. She was late this time, almost an hour I've been waiting. Every time I would be waiting longer and longer for her. She would never tell me why she was late, but it was rare anymore for me to ask, not that she would give me an answer. I would always be waiting for her, no matter how long it took for her to come back to me.

I hear a car pull up, not that old groaning truck, but a smooth, purring car. The car door opens and closes. I can smell her. I feel so relieved that she's finally shown up. I don't want to seem too eager to see her, so when I hear her timid knock I take my time walking from the bedroom down to the front door. I take a minute to listen to her through the door. Her soft breathing, her uneven heartbeat. It's still music to my ears even today.

I open the door to see her standing before me. I look behind her briefly to see a sleek, black car parked in front of my house. I look back at her. She's got her hands gripped together tightly, almost as if she's trying to stop herself from nervously fiddling with them. I don't say anything, but I open the door wider to let her in. She turns to me, looking me in my eyes. I silently beg for her to feel what I'm feeling. But instead, all I see is what she might see as an obligation now. I was an obligation to her. Before, her eyes used to be filled with pure lust. I knew that this was it. The last time. The last time I'd ever get to see her. The last time I'd ever get to speak to her. The last time I'd get to see her. To see her just the way she is. The way she will never be again to me. After this, she will be nothing to me. And me, I will be nothing to her.

She turns away from me and walks to my bedroom. I slowly follow behind. I watch her mechanical movements. Unlike all of the other times, she never was on autopilot like she was now with me. Her hands come up to her shirt and she starts to unbutton it. I watch as her pale skin comes into view the further down she gets. Her eyes don't meet mine, but I know exactly what they would be saying if they were connected to mine like all of the other times that they were. Her eyes would be saying, 'Come to me.', 'Come touch me.' Now, though, there was nothing.

Even though her movements were completely mechanical, I could still feel myself getting hard. I hated myself for this. I hated her for it. And I hated him for it too. I didn't want it to end like this. I wanted her to act like she used to. I wanted her to beg me to come to her, to touch her, to rip her clothes off and take her. She didn't this time. She wasn't in as deep as I was. She never would be. I wanted to go to her anyways. I wanted to go to her and do all of those things that she would beg me to do. But my feet refused to move. They refused to take me to her.

She peels her clothes off, article by article. Before I realize it, she's completely naked before me and I'm still in my cut offs. She doesn't come to me to remove my shorts like she used to. She doesn't even look my way as she sits on the edge of the bed naked. I take on her role and jerk my shorts off, revealing myself for the last time to her. She doesn't even look. She always did before, she would even blush, after so many times of us doing this she would blush. Not anymore.

I walk over to her and sit down next to her. We're not touching but we're not sitting very far apart. I think she even slid just a fraction away from me. I turn my head to look at her. Still nothing. I bring my hand up to turn her face towards me. Her eyes still don't meet mine. I lean in for a kiss, brushing my lips against hers. Not a single reaction. I'm falling apart against her on the inside.

I force the kiss harder, causing her to finally react to something I do. Her arms come up around my neck, pulling me closer just a little bit. I can't take it much more. I push her small frame into the bed, bringing her legs around my waist. I want to show her that I can give her more than what she'll be getting in the future, but I also can't stop myself from taking what I want. I slide myself deep into her hot sleeve. Not a sound coming from her. I want her to enjoy this. I want to enjoy this.

I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips. I feel her tighten up around me slightly. I take that as a sign to move. I make sure to go slow, pushing myself deeper and deeper with each thrust. The grunting coming from me doesn't even phase her. All I get is her light pants, her sweet breath wafting over my face. It reminds me of the smell that is all over her. She smells like him. The smell doesn't stop me though. It only makes me angrier, causing me to take her harder.

I grip her hips as I force myself to take her harder. I know that she'll have bruises on her, but I don't care. Let him see them. He can come after me later. He can kill me later. The pace between me and what should be her become faster, wilder. I can feel her nails digging into my shoulders. That's better than nothing. I'll take what I can get. I hear her panting coming faster now, in time with my movements. She's starting to move with my body now too.

The slight whimper that comes from her lips bring me a little spot of hope. Not enough to know that she'll come back, but enough to know that she's acknowledging that I'm here, that I'm the one doing this to her. I can't take much more and take her bottom lip between my teeth as I kiss her. The whimpering coming louder now, I only hope that she'll call out my name like she had all of those times before. I know that she won't though.

I begin to lose control as I feel her hands come down to my back and her whimpers turn to moans. I'm getting to her somehow. I know I am. But it won't stop her from leaving me when we're finished. I feel her tighten up around me, her juices surrounding my throbbing cock as I keep taking her, taking what I want. I'm not done, and I'm going to make sure that this time she'll have more than one orgasm.

I burry my face in her hair as I take in her scent. I immerse myself within everything that is her. Her scent, her breathing, her soft skin, the feel of her around me, the feel of her nails digging into my back. I pull back to look at her as I thrust into her, she finally looks at me. Her orgasm comes quicker than it had before, and I feel the hot, irritating prickling in the corners of my eyes. My tears stream down my face, dripping onto her chest as I finally reach my orgasm, releasing myself into her. I lean down once more for a kiss, not caring that I'm crying all over her. She responds to me, weaving her fingers into my hair. I loved when she would run her fingers through my hair like that.

After I roll onto my back, lying next to her, she gets up. It's always the same; sex, shower, leave. It pained me to know that she was ridding her body of my scent and of my seed. The seed that could start a life. Something that I had always told myself that I'd never wanted. But I now realize that that's exactly what I've always wanted. I wanted to see her full of what would be our child, her belly swollen with life. The life that we could have. As I think of these things I hear the shower begin to run. I can hear her being to scrub everything that is me off of her skin. Her pale white skin will probably be red when she's finished. I hate that. I hate that she's hiding that the fact that I'd ever touched her. It's not right. It's never been right.

I hear the water shut off. The dripping of the water pales to the sound of the towel running over her body. I hear her pull her clothes back on. Fuck, I hated this part. She walks passed my bedroom door. I silently beg for her to turn and look at me. Just once more. She stops and turns to look at me. That's all I could ever ask of her now. Not even a smile comes from her. Just a little bit of sympathy shines in her eyes and I realize that I'm still crying. She turns to continue down the hall. I hear the door shut as she exits my house. The car starts. I mentally beg for her to come back to me. My mind is screaming that we're supposed to be together. That fate had chosen us to be together. I didn't want to believe that my imprint was leaving me. I didn't want to believe that Bella was leaving me. I hear the car pull away and drive back the way it came. Back to that leech. Back to her husband. I'll always love you Bella.