The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt: Jealousy
Pen name: Feisty Y. Beden
Pairing: Edward x Bella
Rating: M for darkety
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Jealousy
She was mine. She'd said so. She would always be mine. I knew it wasn't good for her; I knew I wasn't good for her. I knew she was too young to make such a commitment, one of forever. But she wanted it; she begged for it. And I was too weak to say no, even though I knew better.
Being around her was intoxicating. I had to hold myself in check, a mental suit of armor. I contemplated how close armor was to amour, just two letters away. I loved her enough to gird myself—not for my protection, but for hers. If I slipped, if I ever lost control … but no. I couldn't dare even think it.
Every day became a little easier. I trusted myself more. I became desensitized to her scent. If we were together all day, I barely had to think about restraining my movements, fighting my urge to sink my teeth into her neck. It was harder when we hadn't seen each other for a few hours. That's when her scent was potent again, when my fingernails would pierce my palms in my effort to control myself from lunging at her, snapping her neck, crushing her like a tiny, Venetian glass flower. I hated how much my body and my mind were at odds with each other. My mind was always stronger, but still I was ashamed for being so prone to my demonic, animal instinct.
Still, I wore my half-moon cuts on my palms with pride. Granted, it was only a matter of minutes before my skin welded shut again, but I welcomed the temporary physical pain, the knitting of my flesh back together. The pain meant I had controlled myself another day. I had kept her alive one more day.
And we continued in this way, her sweet devotion, her foolish daring to be around the most dangerous creature of all, as if I'd been sent from hell to destroy her. She was blissfully ignorant of the danger she put herself in daily to be around me. Her faith that I would not harm her was unshakeable. Daily I begged her to reconsider, as much as I knew it would kill me inside to lose her. But I loved her enough to let her go, to want her to go. But she clung to me, telling me I was like oxygen, that she couldn't breathe without me.
I continually stressed how much I didn't want her to miss out on any human experiences because she was wrapped up in the dark world she never should have known about. I urged her to go out with friends, to make friends, to socialize without me. But she didn't want any of that. She just wanted me. Deep down, I was pleased. I'd never be able to ask her to spend all her time with me, but it gladdened me that it was what she wanted on her own. Even if my true self knew that she maybe didn't want what was best for her.
One day I went to pick her up after a library trip—she had a history project due the next week. I parked out front. I waited for some time, until finally I saw the lights shut off one by one. One of the librarians walked to her rusted-out car, and I waved her over. "Have you seen Bella Swan? About this tall, long brown hair?"
"Of course I know Bella. Yes, she was here, but she left about an hour ago."
"She did?" I scanned her thoughts, trying to see what she had seen.
In her mind I could see Bella, her head bent over some reference books, scribbling furiously into her notebook. I saw someone approach, someone I didn't know. He stumbled near her table, and, in trying to prevent himself from falling, he swept the large reference books to the floor. My Bella being a magnet for accidents, the books fell directly onto her foot. I saw her howl with pain. My foot throbbed in sympathy. My poor Bella.
"Is she all right?" I asked, panicked. In my anxiety, I forgot that the librarian hadn't told me any of what she had seen. All she'd said was that Bella had left.
She looked at me suspiciously, taking her car keys out and backing away. "Maybe you could call her, if you're so concerned."
She thought I was some kind of controlling boyfriend. Or that I didn't really know her at all. She was challenging me. She didn't think I even had her phone number. I ground my teeth together to try to keep my temper in check.
As she went to her car, I saw the rest: the young man apologizing, Bella flashing those glorious eyes of fury. She hadn't heard what the man had said to her, but they spoke, and then they left together.
They left together.
What did this mean? Was Bella in danger? I began driving around town, trying to find her through anyone's thoughts. After I'd run through a few red lights, I remembered that I could just call her on her cell phone. Right.
Speed dial. Ringing. Going to voice mail. Panic.
I increased my speed and drove in ever-widening circles around Forks. I couldn't sense anything. I couldn't see her in anyone's thoughts.
I tried calling again. Speed dial. Ringing. Voice mail.
Then, I admit I might have gone a little insane. I called the number over and over, hoping she hadn't heard the phone ring.
On the tenth call, someone answered. "Edward." I was so relieved to hear her voice that I forgot to be angry with her.
"Bella, are you all right?"
She stammered a little. She sounded nervous. "Yes, of course everything's fine." I thought I heard someone talking behind her.
"Are you in danger? Can you not speak freely?"
"Everything's fine," she said. "Don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow."
Tomorrow? Was she saying she didn't want me to come over tonight after Charlie went to bed?
"What about …" I began to ask.
"Edward, I'll probably be pulling an all-nighter to work on this history paper. You'll just distract me, okay? I'll see you at school tomorrow."
Her voice sounded strong, decided. I wouldn't push her.
But where the devil was she?
I raced home. Alice was waiting for me. "Bella's safe," she said, before I'd even opened my mouth. She had a guarded look in her eyes, though, one that suggested that she wasn't telling me everything she knew.
I tried to probe inside her mind, but she was reciting the periodic table to herself. Ah, the little tricks my family had picked up over the years to block me.
"Nickel is after cobalt, not copper," I said, stomping upstairs. Alice sucked at chemistry.
"You can't control her emotions, Edward," Alice called after me.
I had a bad night, worrying that Bella had lied, that she actually was in danger, or that she'd lied for … another reason entirely. And what had Alice seen? My fingers wouldn't stop twitching. I composed a sonata on the surface of my desk, not wanting to be around the others, not wanting them to hear my thoughts poured out through the piano.
I could hear some confused thoughts that my light was on, that I was here. I hadn't spent an evening at home in months. I tried to shut their thoughts out. If Alice wouldn't tell me what she knew, I didn't want to hear anyone else. I furiously pounded out chords, an angry Beethoven homage, not a charming Alberti-base Clementi piece of fluff. I cracked the surface of the desk.
I played all night. I saw the sunrise begin to creep in my window, pink and shy, reminding me of the bloom on Bella's cheek when she saw me the first time, the many first times she saw me. The pale sky reminded me of her translucent skin. I saw her everywhere.
I got to school hours early. I just couldn't stand to be around the others anymore. I sat on the hood of my car and waited.
I could hear Bella's old truck almost all the way from her house. I froze, my stomach in knots. As she parked, I saw her look at me. I could swear she rolled her eyes.
"Hey," she said, not raising her eyes to meet mine.
"Did you finish your paper?" I asked.
"I got a lot of it done," she shrugged. Then she smiled with a tight mouth and hugged me, pecked me on the cheek.
She wove her fingers through mine, and the day was back to normal. She seemed a little moody today, maybe tired from working all night. Sometimes I caught her looking past me with a faraway expression on her face.
"What do you want to do after school today, love?" I asked as we walked to the parking lot together.
She opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped. She thought a moment. "I still have this paper," she said finally, studying her feet.
"Do you need anything? Study break? Brain food?"
"I'll be fine, Edward," she said.
It went on like this for a week. Every day, that stupid paper. In school she'd act as if everything was okay. I wanted to draw her closer to me, but the more I advanced, the more she seemed to try to pull away. What had I done wrong?
After being told again that she'd be working on her history paper all night, I shrugged and pretended I didn't think anything was amiss. I watched her leave the parking lot. I waited until she was out of sight. I left my car and took off on foot, staying to the shoulders, creeping along the roads. It was easy to follow the noises of the truck. She drove down to a little creek past her house. I watched and waited silently, like a predator stalking his prey. I knew how to do this. I was made to do this.
She sat on a log and fiddled with her hair. I could smell her from my hiding place. I longed to put my nose at the nape of her neck. The way she raked her fingers through her hair, shook her head upside down, exposing the creamy skin of her neck, the languid way she put on lipgloss, rubbing her lips together slowly, teasingly … I took a lot of bark off the old tree that provided cover.
I was expecting another car, so I was surprised when I heard footfalls, whistling, and saw Bella's face in someone else's head. It wasn't like when I'd seen her in the minds of those foolish boys from school, Newton, Crowley, Yorkie. They were disgusting. The person's mind, whoever he was, was just … irritatingly good natured. Kind. Sweet. I wanted to like him as much as I wanted to tear his head off.
"Hey, Bella," he said.
She stood up, brushed the dirt off her jeans, and turned toward him. The look on her face turned everything to acid inside me. She was glowing. Her cheeks were rosy like the dawn. "Luke!" she said.
"You say that like you're surprised to see me."
"It's just nice, is all." She sat down again on the log, and he sat next to her. "I love it here," Bella offered, motioning her arms wide like she wanted to hug the world. "I love the way that creek seems to be telling me a secret."
He looked at her like he had found a part of himself. His thoughts were pure, excited, and genuinely full of love.
I could see the life he could give her. A life. A normal life free of danger. This was more the natural order of things. This is the way it should have been if we'd never come back to Forks. We shouldn't have come. I could see their whole lives ahead of them. I recognized the look in her eyes. She used to look at me like that.
I could see a little tinge of sadness about her, a tiny eclipse in the light in her eyes.
"What is it, Bella?" this human asked.
"I kind of have a boyfriend," she said. "But … he doesn't make me feel this way. It's different. You're so warm." She slipped her hand into his. "Everything about you is so warm. You don't treat me like I'm about to break. You squeeze my hand back."
"I don't want to cause any trouble," he said. "I mean, I can back off. You know, until you figure out what you want."
"No, that's not it," she said. "I already know. I just don't know how I'm going to tell him."
"Oh," he said, and I could feel real regret in him, sympathy for her boyfriend. Sympathy for me. He didn't even know me, but he felt sorrow and guilt that he'd be bringing someone else pain.
I couldn't watch anymore. I snuck back until I was out of earshot, and then I ran back to the school. I got in my car and drove as fast as I could. I was in Port Angeles before I realized that's where I'd been heading. I parked the car on a side street and just started wandering.
I saw her walking out of one of the bars, an Irish pub. She was a little drunk, swaying on her feet. Her hair was long, wavy, and about the same shade. I looked into her eyes in the moonlight. They were almost the same shade as well, but she was a cheap copy, a stunt double.
"What's your name?" she said, smiling at me, blushing a little.
"Edward," I answered, my hands in my pockets.
"Got a light?" She held a cigarette in her mouth.
I fumbled in my pockets for the Zippo lighter I'd picked up from a little tobacconist's in the 1940s.
"Thanks," she said, breathing in deeply and letting the smoke out of the side of her mouth.
"You're beautiful," I said.
"You're not so bad yourself," she said, winking.
I could see into her fantasies, so I knew what to say. "Do you want to go somewhere?" I said, offering her my arm.
I could feel the lust coming off her in waves, see her doing things to me in her mind. She dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her foot. "Mmmhmm," she happily hummed, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes.
She kissed me before we'd even walked past the pub. It wasn't like Bella. I didn't have to hold back, because I felt nothing. But she looked so much like her … or I could pretend she did.
She dragged me into an alleyway that smelled so strongly of piss and vomit that I nearly dry-heaved. I let her shove me against the wall. I let her kiss me, let her press her warm lips against my cold ones. I closed my eyes and pretended it was Bella, but it wasn't the same. Nothing was the same.
"Tell me," I growled in her ear, "would you love me forever? Would you never look at another man again?"
She grabbed my hair and pulled my head down to kiss her again. I was used to women reacting this way to me. But I heard her thoughts. I heard her laughing at me. She just wanted something quick, animalistic. I saw her mind scan through all the men she'd been with recently.
I thought of Bella. Bella and this new boy. This boy who could give her everything I couldn't.
I kissed Bella goodbye, not holding back, and I felt hands clawing at mine, frantic struggling, kicks that grew weaker and weaker. I felt her try to scream into my mouth as I kissed her. I heard whimpering, and then I heard nothing at all.
She lay lifeless at my feet, my handprints on her throat. Her eyes were bugged out, staring at me accusingly, even in death.
"Goodbye, Bella," was all I could say as I left the alleyway, got into my car, and drove as fast as I could.
I would never come back to this place. I could be in Canada in a matter of hours, maybe take a ferry to Alaska. I'd send a note to Carlisle later. He'd understand. Or maybe he wouldn't. I didn't care anymore.
I turned my headlights off so I could drive unseen, a nightmare hurtling by all those helpless souls in the darkness.
A/N: Will I ever write a happy Edward/Bella oneshot? I don't know! Maybe?
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