RAUM

An Italian Winter

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended at any point.

Chapter 10 – Razor's Edge

Friday, February 16, 2007

I drove for hours like a madman. Surely I was mad, though just as surely I was not a man.

Isabella had opened up to me, and what had I done? I'd frightened her with my absurd behavior, when she most needed someone who could comfort her. Once again I'd failed. Had I ever been anything other than a failure?

Who was I trying to fool? I was the last person who could stand as a friend for her. She didn't need my protection; she needed protection from me. Just the thought made me scream, and my feral growls shook the car.

By the time I arrived at the sea, it was dark. I left the car on a deserted street and ran toward the beach. I didn't care that someone might see me while I wasn't bothering to keep a human pace. I was out of my mind. If I'd met anyone right then, I wouldn't have had the control to leave them the opportunity to tell what they'd seen.

The sea water I splashed into was freezing. It made me remember the warmth I'd felt in Bella's home. Her welcome had been warmer than the apartment, as she'd invited me inside her cozy retreat and treated me as a friend. I'd marred even her safe haven with my loathsome presence.

I swam in the open sea, where a human would have already died of hypothermia.

But not even Death wanted me.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Saturday, February 17, 2007

It was almost four in the morning when I got back to my place. The distant thoughts of a drunken guy wandering after a night in a pub, shuffling toward his home, represented the only noise in the sleeping neighborhood. From the street, I looked up at Bella's windows. All the lights were off. I sought her heartbeat. She was sleeping. She was safe.

A mess stared back at me from the bathroom mirror. My clothes were soggy and sand-encrusted; my hair was bristled from the salt. I looked like garbage expelled from the sea. Had I ever been anything but garbage?

I let the scorching water of the shower pour over me for so long that I idly wondered if the ceiling would come down because of the hot steam. It wouldn't hurt me, anyway.

Thoughts of Bella continued to haunt me. She could have been cut and bleeding in her kitchen, had I not caught the knife in time.

From many different perspectives, I envisioned myself swooping down on her like an eagle on a lamb. I imagined every detail: my nails ripping her silky skin, my sharp teeth finding their way to her wound, and my mouth sucking the life out of her.

"Never," I stammered, imagining that the fake tears on my cheeks created by the shower were real.

The tempting vision of Bella's body squeezed in my hands without restraint, of her in my lap, on the ground, enclosed in my lethal embrace, took shape in my mind.

"Never," I repeated. The idea of a world where she didn't exist anymore made my knees tremble.

"Never!" I cried, clenching my fists.

I wanted to hit a wall, but it wouldn't have hurt me. I couldn't atone for my wicked fantasies that way. What was I thinking? I'd thought of Bella as a challenge on so many levels. Did I really believe I could dance on the razor's edge, simply by not lying to her and trying to be her friend? Clearly we were on the razor's edge, but only she could get cut.

I went to the piano. In the darkness, the keys made me think of a line of shells on the shore. I just stared down at them, without playing. I could recall every single note I'd ever performed. On so many nights my fingers had grazed those keys, as if they were the only pet I could keep in my lonely existence. But for the first time since I'd learned to play, the piano didn't hold any promise of a new melody. It didn't elicit any desire to compose a new song.

My hands stayed limp in my lap while I slumped on the piano bench. They were the hands that had played for Bella, making me proud of them. They were the hands of a killer, though. I wished they were useless. Useless would have been better than bloodstained.

My attention was caught by the sound of Bella's heartbeat, as it began to increase. She was having nightmares.I heard her turning and tossing on the bed. She was so soft. Warm. Alive. Her breaths were like a sea wave, and I waited for the moment when the wave would crest and crash on the shore.

The moment came.

I cringed, knowing that the name Mike would become her miserable scream. The scream came. But it wasn't Mike this time.

"EDWARD!"

My name, uttered by her in a strained sob, caused me pain like nothing else had been able to inflict so far. She considered me a nightmare; she was afraid of me. I'd earned such punishment. I couldn't ask to be forgiven, so I voiced the only thing I dared ask.

"Please, Bella," I begged. "Please, forget me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

When does the night end? I wondered. In the woods where I'd been hunting, I looked at the sky as it became lighter. But the new day still had a lot of layers of darkness to dispel before dawn. Every day the sunrise took the same path, chasing the same shadow line. How many thousands of days had I seen when I wasn't supposed to be roaming the Earth anymore? How long had I been on the shadow line between life and death in the hospital where Carlisle found me?

"Why didn't you let me go?" I spat at my maker, as if he could hear me. "Are you satisfied now?" The sound of my voice echoed in the lonely woods. "Do you enjoy knowing that I'm trapped between life and death?"

The faces of the people who –because of me– weren't going to see a new day coming, joined me in my outburst. "Where is your compassion, now, Carlisle?" I yelled. "Didn't you feel compassion for them?"

The answer to my questions came in the form of a memory. I recalled the reason why my sire, after changing Emmett, had vowed he would never make another vampire. On two occasions, my brother had killed humans. Through his thoughts I'd seen the faces of the two women who'd died because of his thirst and would never go back to their families.

The first time he'd slipped, I'd helped him come back to our family. I tried to push away the memory of what we all had gone through, to no avail. The words our father had spoken to him replayed in my mind. It was then Carlisle shared with us his promise to never create another killer. The second time, I'd feared that my brother was lost for good. Again, Carlisle had reached him where no one else could go.

He'd returned her husband to Rosalie, her son to Esme, to Jasper, Alice and me, our brother. We'd been relieved. Only one of us, in the silence of his study, had spent a thought for the husbands who wouldn't see their wives again because of Emmett's lack of self-control. Carlisle had prayed for those nameless humans.

My prey were nameless, too. I'd never wanted to know anything more about them than the charge that had brought them in front of the most pitiless judge and executioner they could have ever met. But I knew well the name of my next target. I knew his name, his face, and his medical record. Wasn't he lucky to have met such a good and caring doctor?

I didn't go home at seven in the morning. I ignored the sound of my phone ringing. My hand clenched and unclenched around it. Just a little more pressure, and I wouldn't have had a phone anymore. I recalled what I'd told Bella: "If there's anything that you need...here's my phone number. Twenty-four/seven..." Just another lie.

The phone went to voicemail, but she didn't leave a message.

"Take the damn bus," I hissed. Did she actually wonder why I hadn't shown up to drive her to school? After the way I'd scared her, how could she even think of being alone with me?

An incoming text demanded my attention.

I'm calling in sick, no school today. How are you doing? Please, call me. - Bella.

I switched off the phone and leaned my forehead against a tree. You don't want to know how I am, believe me.

When I looked at the sky again, the sea of blue told me it was a sunny day. Wonderful. Hadn't I worried that, sooner or later, the sun would show on a Tuesday or Thursday? Even if the incident at her home hadn't happened, it was inevitable that the sun would have forced me to avoid her eventually. If I was to go back home, I had to do it now, before the light was too bright.

Instead I chose to stare at the sky until darkness fell.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Thursday, February 22, 2007

I'd been able to answer all the questions that had crossed my mind in the past fifty-five hours. The answer to every question was the same: You'd only make things worse.

What if Bella needed help? You'd only make things worse.

What if Jake hadn't come back yet, and she was still alone at home? Same answer.

Could I try to talk to her, to make her believe that what she'd seen was just a fluke? The thought became tempting. The idea that maybe I'd blown things out of proportion began to appeal to me. What if she wasn't as scared as I supposed? Could we...

I stopped myself, disgusted by my own boundless eagerness.

How could I get home and leave for good, without Bella seeing me?

That was a smart question, finally. It was the only one that made me move to go back to town. By the time I arrived, she wasn't home, as I well knew. I could pack and leave in the middle of the night, just like a thief.

When I heard the knock on the door without any accompanying thoughts, I caught my breath. Was I hallucinating? Could ears hallucinate, too? It was only wishful thinking. She couldn't be there.

"Go away, I'm dead," I said, too low to be heard. I wasn't lying.

But even while I tried to convince my mind it wasn't thinking clearly, my body acted on its own. I opened the door.

"Bella," I murmured to the girl on the threshold. My word was a praise, a sigh, a prayer that she wasn't going to fly away.

"Hey," she muttered.

For the longest time we remained in silence, unable to continue our meaningful conversation.

She gave me a half-smile. "May I come in?"

My body was definitely acting on its own; I actually motioned her into the foyer. A number of possible things to say and ask came to my throat, but none of them left my mouth. I was happy because she was with me, scared of her questions, and altogether confused. Please, Bella, stay, I silently prayed to her. Stay here, stay in my days. Just a little longer.

"How are you doing?" I asked at last. After a century of studies and experiences, I wasn't able to formulate any smarter question.

She shrugged. "I'm fine. I had a bad cold and spent two days without going to work, but I'm better now." She didn't avert her eyes from me and didn't show any need to examine her shoes for once. I enjoyed the sight of her face, her full lips and her sweet eyes, as if I were an art lover in front of his favorite painting.

But I had an elephant to kick out of the room. Too bad I couldn't just drain it.

"About what happened last week..." I began, without knowing what was I going to tell her next. I was trapping myself, indeed. But I owed her an explanation of some kind.

She stopped me. "Edward." Her smile was gone. "I don't know what actually happened. We were both shocked...for different reasons, I guess. But I'm not here to discuss it."

No? I just nodded, to encourage her to go on.

"I'm going to Venice next week. Schools will be closed on Saturday and Sunday, and I'm spending the weekend there. You know, there's the Carnevale."

I frowned. Why was she telling me? Did she want me to check on her home while she was away, as a good neighbor? Don't worry, Bella. I'll be your vampire guard dog. I don't bark, but I bite.

"Alone?" I managed to ask.

Her smile came back as she shook her head. "Would you come with me?"

Would I? Many different options flooded through my mind. I considered whether I might have imagined everything that had happened in the last week. Was I dreaming? Was I asleep? Was I crazy?

"I...but...how..." I babbled.

"There's a train that can take us directly to Venice city center. I booked two seats and two rooms in a small hotel," she explained. "I thought it could be nice doing it together, and I wanted to talk to you about it, but I haven't seen you lately..." Her lower lip was tortured by her teeth. No wonder, if she was already regretting her invitation.

"Your invitation…is a surprise." I admitted. Understatement of the year.

"I can cancel, if you want," she rushed to tell me, disappointment clear in her face.

I quickly stopped her. "It's a pleasant surprise." I smiled at her. "I've never been to Venice, and I would be very happy to go."

Her eyes shone with enthusiasm. "So, see you Saturday morning? The train leaves at ten o' clock in the morning."

"Until Saturday," I confirmed. "I'll pick you up at nine-thirty."

She turned toward me as she left my house. "I know that something strange happened at my home," she told me quietly. "But you are a good friend, and I would never push you into talking about anything that would make you uncomfortable. If and whenever you are ready to talk to me, I'll be here."

Then she walked away, without waiting for my answer. Not that I had anything that I could tell her.

So, were we back on the razor's edge? What could I hope to gain? Just a few more days together?

Whatever it was, I couldn't let it go. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Saturday, February 24, 2007

I stared at the sky in disbelief. Not today. Not now. I'd been betrayed by the sun twice in a week. How was it possible that the sun decided to perform at its best in a winter week?

I paced nervously in what had suddenly become my prison. A couple of chairs in my living room were the first to meet my wrath. I growled at the sky, but it didn't care and continued to smile at me. I had to be very careful to switch on the television, since the remote seemed to beg to be crushed by my exasperated hands. The silly voice of a stupid anchorman cheerfully confirmed that the weekend was going to be sunny. Very, very sunny.

Bella's invitation had given me a new light, a flicker of hope. But the mocking sun – shining in all its glory in front of me – had burned it out.

I reached out a hand and held it under the sunlight that was filtering through one of the big windows of my living room. My repulsive skin began to sparkle. Monster. I grimaced. This is the skin of a killer. I looked up at Bella's window. Listening to her heartbeat, it seemed that she was still sleeping, just a few feet from me. We were supposed to leave in an hour.

If handling the TV remote had been hard, managing to dial her phone number was almost a mission impossible. I had to lie to her; I was going to let her down. Again.

She picked up the phone on the third ring. "Edward!" Even if her voice was still sleepy, she made me feel wanted by just saying my name aloud. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry, but there's a problem," I began, every word heavy on my tongue. Straight to the point. "I have to stay here. I can't go today."

"No," she murmured. I cringed, sensing her disappointment. "May I ask what's happened? Are you sick?"

"I'm not feeling well." At least it wasn't a lie.

"Is there anything I can do? I can cancel and stay here, if you need..."

"No," I interrupted her. "You've organized this trip, and you deserve some fun. I'm so sorry for not being able to join you, but there's no reason for you to cancel."

"Really, Edward, we can do it another time, I'm worr–"

Again I stopped her. "Don't," I told her firmly. "Here's something you can do for me: do not worry. Just enjoy your trip and try to be happy. Knowing you're having fun will help me a lot, you know?" I even managed to chuckle.

"Will you call me if anything changes?"

"I will."

"May I call you later or tomorrow, to check how you're doing?" she asked tentatively. Her caring attitude made me feel a sweet, pleasant warmth.

"Sure," I assured her. "Call whenever you want. I'll be home." Where else could I go?

"So...take care," she added.

"Bella? May I ask you another thing you can do for me?"

"Anything."

"Be safe."

I listened to the sounds coming from her home, until, from my window, I saw her leaving – alone.

The vision of her mingled with the memory of the psychic sister I'd left back with the Cullens. With Alice, none of this mess would be happening. She would have warned me, and I could have refused Bella's invitation when she'd proposed it. The memory of all the times I'd scolded Alice because she was too pushy with her warnings didn't hurt, at first. But in a matter of seconds, the thought of our last encounter covered everything else with its bitterness.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Not even a cloud marred the sky for the whole day. It was one of those dry winter days when the North wind swept the sky clean. Despite the cold, the thoughts of the humans in the neighborhood told me they'd enjoyed the weather. Maybe they were comforted by the implication that, sooner or later, the harsh season would be over. Spring, with the promise of new life, wasn't far off anymore. It would be my time to leave. It would be the right time for my revenge.

By now, Bella must have arrived in Venice, I thought, looking at the sky as the sunny day was almost over. I imagined her arriving by train at the salty lagoon, and I wondered if she was going to rent a mask and join the Carnevale. Did she dream of being someone else, just for a single day? If a mask could be enough...who would I want to become? The answer was very simple: a man who could walk with her under the sun, who could merge with her among the tourists, telling her that –no matter the Carnevale– I would have recognized her, even in disguise.

In disguise...

What if I actually could?

I grabbed my credit card, cell phone, and car keys. Too slowly, the sun finally set. Then I ran outside.

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Author's Notes

My entry for the Age of Edward contest 2012, "Little Dart," is on my profile. Meet Eruthros!

h t t p : / / www. fanfiction. net/ s/ 7795650 /1/ Little_Dart

I have entered the New Moon Round of The Canon Tour. Go read, review, vote!

Many thanks (and no razors, LOL) to Camilla10, Marlena516, Corinne Tate, and Jmolly.

Today (February, 3) is TwiArcady90's birthday! Edward is playing Happy Birthday for you, my dear!

The life is full of shadow lines. In his novella The Shadow Line, Joseph Conrad depicts the development of a young man; the shadow line of the title represents the threshold of his passage from youth to adult age.