A/N: Chapters with bold titles have been edited!

You and Me: Chapter 2

"This clock never seemed so alive"

I sat for what seemed like forever, staring at the face of my hero. Was he really my hero? I was stuck in emotional limbo, half hating the fact that he had deprived me of the only peace I could achieve. The other half of me loathed myself more than I had before. Instinctively, my hands went over my heart; as much as this pain was intolerable, I couldn't believe that I had wanted to take my life away.

I traced his face, mesmerized by how beautiful he was. He seemed familiar- I knew I had seen his face before, but where? His shocking green eyes seemed dull with boredom, and carried bags underneath. His lips were small and pink, and his cheekbones were high and defined. I wanted to reach up to see how those disheveled bronze locks felt.

Shit.

Bronze locks…Signature bronze locks.

Edward Cullen.

I couldn't fathom why the lead singer of the infamous band Eclipse was sitting here, cradling me in his arms. All I knew, was that for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, emotion was stirring within me. What I needed to decide was whether I liked it or not. I was so used to the suffocation of grief that I had learned to live with lessened air.

I had deeply mourned when each of my parents passed away, and when Jacob came along, he pieced me back together. Life was no longer a constant stream of sadness and nostalgia; instead, from time to time, its monotony was interrupted by Jacob's joy. I had never felt anything more than platonically towards Jacob, but I had convinced myself that I did. He was understanding, and willing to accept whatever I was ready to offer him. Furthermore, I was done feeling grief, and wanted to take a try at happiness. So I dated him, using lust as a substitute for love. Our physical attraction was undeniable, and I used that to get me through. I shared everything with him; my body, my mind, and what was left of my heart.

Jacob died in a recreational, cliff-diving accident. The coroners said that he must have gotten dragged out in a storm, which was why his body had been found several days after he initially went missing. The funeral held at the La Push Reservation had been one of the darkest events in my life. From then on, life changed for the worst. I lived in a world in which everything, and I mean everything, reminded me of him. It was over a year later, and I was still scared of storms.

I shifted through different stages of depression. I was sad, I was angry, I was sad and angry, and then I was just plain pissed. Then numbness settled in and stayed for months. It wasn't until this morning that I decided I couldn't go on anymore. I couldn't live knowing that everyone I loved was dead and gone.

So, based on a rash decision, I got out of bed and started my day as I normally did. I made sure my apartment was clean, and that all of my belongings were put away. I considered leaving a note, but then decided against.

Who would I even address it to?

My memory gets a little hazy at that point. I can't remember the walk to the church, or taking down the hatch from its position. It was almost as if my body had been instantly transported from my house to the roof of the church. As I stood on the ledge, I repeated a mantra, hoping that God would forgive me for ending my own life. But even as I said it, I couldn't will myself to actually jump. I wanted the unbreakable pain I was in to be gone, but I couldn't do it.

It was for this reason that I was slightly thankful for Edward saving me. I could have done something that I didn't want to do. I groaned; I didn't even know what I was thinking. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know who I was anymore.

"Excuse me," a rough, deep voice said. I felt the vibrations from the chest beneath me. I made the connection that the man holding me was the one talking. It took me awhile to process things nowadays. It was almost as if there was a delay between the times of someone speaking, and my comprehending. "I really want to help you Miss….but my dead wife is down stairs, and my best friend is taking care of my son. I mean, I don't want to be there, but I have obligations I need to fulfill. Wow that just sounded horrible…calling my wife's funeral an obligation…"

"It's okay, Edward," I croaked, "I'm fine."

"Obviously not," Edward raised a brow, "You were about to jump off of a four story building."

"I was contemplating," I corrected.

"Which still says something about your mental health," he murmured, "You know who I am?"

"Who doesn't?" I laughed without humor, "To what do I owe this honor, sitting in the arms of the Edward Cullen?"

"I was in the funeral procession, and I saw you on the top of the church."

For the first time in a long time, blood flooded to my cheeks, "I'm keeping you from your wife's funeral."

"I'd rather be here," he grumbled.

I held some bitterness in my tone, "Thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Edward sighed, "I just meant that I don't want to be there. Me and my wife had…issues, and let's say it didn't end well before she died."

"Tanya Denali," I remembered, "Didn't she drop out of your band or something?"

"Yah," he chuckled, "Something like that. She used to be the lead singer with me. She also dropped off the face of the Earth after overdosing on Heroin. Left me and my child –I have no idea why I'm telling you this."

I felt a pain in my heart as I thought of how similar our situations were. Well, similar in the sense that we had both been left. Otherwise, I knew that our worlds were completely different.

"It's okay, I won't sell you out to the Paparazzi or anything," I pulled away from his arms gently, squeezing his hand as a thank you.

"That didn't even occur to me," Edward shook his head, "Thank you."

"You can't possibly be thanking me," I scoffed, "You saved my life."

He laughed, "Anytime. I need to go find my son. You're not going to pull a fast one while I'm gone are you? I mean, should I take you to the hospital?"

"Of course not," I stood with him, and went to leave, "Goodbye, Edward, take care."

"You too," he smiled and then traveled down the stairs.

After he left me, the nagging grief returned. I walked home, my feet dragging behind me as I crossed the threshold. I took off my jacket and discarded my shoes, almost as if it were a regular day. I crawled into my bed, and drew the blankets far over my head. Instead of feeling the gratitude of still being alive, in a way, I felt more broken than before. I was still on this earth, and still without meaning. This was another low for me. There was only one other time in my life when I had felt this shattered. The only thing was that this time, I didn't have Jacob to pick me up again.