Sun vs. Moon
Chapter Two: Leaps and Bounds
Jacob stopped remembering, stopped caring. He took out all emotion, the stray wisps left behind would leave nothing else to feel, something that, at the moment, sounded very pleasing to him.
He had one thing to look forward to—his jump. The leap across an impossible distance—again, impossible sounded perfect. Hadn't everything been impossible in the first place? Hadn't he known the way Bella loved him was different than the way she loved Edward, the cold one, the one with no heart?
Yes, he had known, but blindly avoided the truth of it—not that any of it mattered. What registered in his psyche, over and over again was one word, one name—Bella.
Bella, no…
All he could think about during the day, even when his pack was together hunting, was her and her safety. Everything he did—or tried to do…involved bringing his life, his flower, into full bloom.
He had been so close…so endearingly close, yet, for every sun, there is a moon, and as he said before, he couldn't compete with an eclipse.
No! He yelled in his head, confusion swirling, dancing in wild circles around his breaking sanity. A sun can compete with a moon! Jacob told himself. For every flower, there has to be a sun. Without me, Bella would still be…he stopped, realizing how inconsiderate his own voice inside his head sounded.
His stride slowing, he noted a disparity in his breathing. It had gone from a steady, but fast pace, to a slow, fluctuating rhythm.
The black wolves eyes which were half his, half his spirits', blinked excitedly, trying to hold back an impossible force that punched at his insides, begging to be set free. Who was there to see?
Already knowing the answer to his un-spoken question, he laid himself down on the padded forest floor. The autumn leaves felt cool against his long, flowing hair, matted by salt, and water, and sun.
With a sigh, more or less a rumble of dissatisfaction at his failed attempts to resist what had been urging relentlessly inside of him, he gently rested his hands on the top of his paws, whimpering softly.
Tears, larger than normal humans', sparkling specks against their dark background, slid down into his fur, which darkened around the eyes from the salty mixture.
Not so deep within his throat this time, and at a much higher pitch, he whimpered again, cracking at the end into a sheer squeal of disdain, of pain, of remorse, not for himself, but for his beloved.
Slowly, but instantaneously, his figure began to waver and shake as he lay there, head on paws, tears forming rivers as they flowed, faster and faster. His hands were the first to transform, and then the rest of his body followed swiftly behind, until what was left where the form of a wolf had been, was a man, curled up into a tight ball, hands wrapped around his head, clutching to it as though in pain. He wasn't in pain, definitely not, for that would be an understatement. It was as though, without warning, somebody had come into his life, taking any small thing that kept him sane, and ripped it out before he had a chance to catch even the smallest pieces that fell to the ground. Not only were the pieces lost, they were destroyed, taking along with them his soul. All that was left now was a shell, and embodiment of what had been Jacob Black—the loving, caring, trustworthy friend who had always been Bella's from their first moments together.
The word "together" now sounded ironic—being exactly the opposite. Once the vile, filthy, disgusting bloodsuckers had changed her over, werewolf rule stated that, unless under extreme circumstances, no werewolf was aloud to associate with any vampire.
It wasn't fair, done un-righteously, leaving a gap that should be defined, or left open for discussion upon the basis for which any werewolf could not be without—the one who he or she imprinted with.
He had tried before, tried to speak with his father, Billy, about his affection for Bella, how he knew, that on the day they had faced the Volturi, he'd imprinted with her, but his fathers wise, yet denying ears let Jacobs begs and whims fall short.
Going to the beach last night with Bella had been about exactly what he'd told her, but not about her response.
Bella…
He howled—blowing apart the dire, heavy silence that beckoned to become complete. It was waiting for Jacob to go completely silent, waiting to consume his unconscious soul, his un-beating heart. All he had to do was give up, or give in to the temptation, the escape, that was his death.
But again, a problem arose in his once flawless plan for doom. What if Bella was still alive, still humanly alive, he thought—maybe they still stood a chance. Then again, he couldn't think of a way to save her after what he had done.
If he died, killed himself, then Bella would be free with Edward, no limitations, nothing holding her back. He once again remembered that she was dead now, and yet he still found himself saying that—selfish again…he reminded himself, wishing that his morals hadn't been affected by becoming the honest spirit of an animal.
What was life without Bella…to Jacob, life was Bella. The air, the sky, the trees, the thrill of waking up, knowing that he was completely full in the world, his other half standing before him, unbeknownst, but always there. A smile played across his lips, forcing itself into a chuckle, as memories once again flooded back at him from every direction, but this time, he halted their invading progress.
This was it, his reason for bridging the gap between the living and the lost. If he couldn't have Bella alive—in the sense that she still needed to breathe, still needed to sleep, then he literally could not have life. The thought was disturbing, realizing why Billy had been through such hardships after Jacobs' mother had died. Billy was either lucky, or exceedingly stubborn, either of which had kept him alive in a time when most, like Jacob, would just decide to give up living, having their life, their love, in its near entirety, taken away from them.
Jacob Black, a man, a werewolf, but most of all, a lover, was going to kill himself, the very same way every other werewolf had to do…the cliffs. They were tempting, but sleep crept swiftly up on him, an involuntary blanket wrapping his body in a hazy fog, leaving his body sprawled out on the ground from sheer exhaustion.
As sleep enveloped him in its tingling embrace, he felt a tickle in the back of his mind, something moving directly into his thoughts. It excited him, spreading an unknown smile across his warm lips. It was mystifying, taking him by surprise, yet sounding no alarm, no worry escaping through the permeable confines of his mind, made that way by his transformation into beast, into monster. He would have nightmares tonight, so dark, so secret, only the most powerful emotion could bring them forth again. And yet, even as Jacob drifted into a fitful rest, he noticed a calm subside over his limp body. Someone, or something, seemed to be walking through his dreams, opening up the files deep within even his most private thoughts, his most secret dreams, dreams he didn't even share with his pack. It felt as though this thing were filing through each memory, recollection, and event, prying for answers…clues to a hidden truth. The searching fingers were cold, nimble, and thin. They sorted through the mess with disquieting speed, but never slipped up, always finding what they were looking for, even though he couldn't tell what it was the fingers had found.
Then, as if it were a polite gesture, whatever had entered his mind, uninvited, closed the door on its way out, but taking with it dreams for a future, a future that she wanted Jacob Black to be in, no matter what the conditions were now, no matter what they would be, she wanted him in it for eternity.
Jacob, his eyes already closed, drifted into a vat of sleep, a smile still frozen across his lips, lips that longed for one thing…
Bella…
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SeeingSouls