Title Credit: Gabe Dixon Band - Ever After You
So I've had this idea stewing my mind for a while now...we'll see how it turns out.
I know I know I know this is short. But its just a prologue.
Reviews please! Tell me if it sucks, or if you think its going to suck.
Disclaimer: Twilight stuff belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Prologue
June 6th, 2006
He hadn't changed, of course. He was frozen, forever, at the age of seventeen.
His bronze hair was, as always, in disarray. She wondered, as she often used to, if he achieved such a casual look with much time spent in front of a mirror. A couple strands of his hair hung into his topaz eyes; she had to restrain herself from moving to push his hair out of his eyes. The very sight of him tormented her, just as it used to.
She clenched her fists tightly, the pale skin stretching over her knuckles as he stood so cold and still before them all.
It had only been four years. That wasn't enough time for her to forget her human life entirely. She could still recall faint memories. Sometimes they were clear, sometimes they were blurry, dizzying recollections of her past life. She did not remember everything, only some things. That was more than enough.
She remembered her father and his ways. She remembered her mother and how she had abandoned her and her brother.
And she remembered the boy. How he appeared suddenly in her life, how everyone fawned over him and his family. She remembered him but she only wanted to forget.
The memories of him, the ones that tortured her during every long hour and every spare. Memories of his smile attacked her mind at night when she had nothing to fill the hours that she used to spend sleeping. It was nights like those when she pined for sleep and for her human life.
But now she could not sleep, now that she made her choice. She could not hide away from him in the realms of sleep anymore.
Aro told her that she would remember the transformation as the most painful experience of her human life, but he was wrong. She remembered him.
And now four years later, after the five days of transformation and the year of uncontrollable thirst and anger had passed, he was standing before her.
He remembered. Because vampires do not forget. He remembered her, for four years were nothing to a vampire who'd lived for a hundred. And he knew she remembered.
He stood before Aro and his brothers and–without a glance in her direction–he asked the Volturi to take his life.