For CamJam - your reviews mean more to me than I can properly express. Merry Christmas, buddy.
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
The first time you try to tell Alice, you've been friends for three months. It seems fast, too fast. Too much, too soon, and you're worried it will come across as a fickle declaration. There are other worries, of course, good god. There are other worries, but this one sticks out for some reason. Has your lips faltering, your words disappearing the moment you think of them. It's not like you haven't considered it, like you haven't spent countless sleepless nights staring up at your ceiling contemplating it all.
You've known for a long time. One could even argue you've known since the very first moment you saw her, skipping through the doors of the cafeteria. You've never seen someone so full of life - quite the ironic truth once you learn their secret. You've never been so consumed by life before.
It's been… difficult not to tell her ever since. They were the first words on your lips when Edward brought you home to meet his family. Your eyes sparkle with exploding galaxies, I think I'm in love with them. Instead, you stuttered some kind of awkward greeting while Edward scowled at the two of you.
And now you're here, three months later, and nothing's changed. Well. Okay, some things have changed. By the grace of God, you've managed to convince Edward that he doesn't love you. That was a whole big can of worms you've managed to dodge and whatever happens, you're proud of yourself for that, at least.
You're also closer to Alice now, which has its pros and cons. It's an agonizing kind of blessing, you suppose. The kind that takes your breath away for many different reasons.
Even now, watching her spin around on your computer chair while she reads from the textbook at a human pace, your heart thuds painfully. She chews on the end of her pen and, god, normally you well and truly hate that. But she's careful - too easy it would be to chew through it. So she merely taps the end against her bottom fangs and…
You gulp and look away, wiping sweaty palms on your jeans. "H-Hey, Alice?"
Fuck. Get a hold of yourself. Don't stutter.
Golden eyes flick up from the book balanced on her knees and she reaches an arm out to grab the desk, stopping mid-spin. Those chaotic spikes bounce once, before settling, and you have her full attention.
(So easy it is to get her attention. Sometimes you don't even have to say a word, she's already watching you with that fond little smile.)
You shake your head, trying to break free from the spell she has over you long enough to tell her how you feel. But your chest constricts, your lungs won't hold onto oxygen, and your lips don't form the words.
You just sit there, like an idiot, staring at your best friend.
Desperate to tell her that you're in love with her.
"What was that last part about Mitosis?"
Coward.
Alice blinks and looks back down at the book. Her brows slowly tug together and she tucks the pen up behind her ear to trace the words with her finger. "I'm not sure, I kind of zoned out a bit in the middle. It's dreadfully boring, isn't it?"
She looks up when you laugh, and you nod your head. "Yeah, it's no great odyssey."
Why are you like this?
After a moment of thoughtful looks, Alice scoops the textbook up and glides onto the bed next to you. She deposits the book in your lap, bracing herself on her hand behind you so she can lean close and read over your shoulder. "Maybe if we read it together in different voices?"
Good God. Alice smells like damn bubblegum and if it isn't the best thing you've ever experienced in your life…
Why? Why are you like this?
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
The second time you try to tell her, maybe you can blame it on the climate. Your lips are literally numb, you can't feel them, you haven't felt them in almost twenty minutes now. But Alice had looked so excited when you mentioned you don't know how to skate and, really, how are you supposed to say no to her?
No, really. Actually. How? How do you say no to Alice Cullen?
Now look at you. Shoulder slamming down onto the ice - again, cheeks and nose a charming pink from the cold, teeth chattering, fingers numb, knees bruised beyond recognition. All because that damn pixie giggles each and every time and your stupid heart would gladly punch itself in the face if it meant making her laugh.
Damn it. Nobody ever mentioned how inconvenient being in love is. (Nah, that doesn't sound right. There's gotta be a song about it or something. Right?)
Your gloved hands splay across the ice as you try to keep your knees under you, attempting to get the blades of your skates back on the ice. Dangerous. This is so fucking dangerous. What a horrible idea. She's definitely trying to kill you.
But dear god, she's beautiful out there. As graceful on ice as she is on land, swooping and gliding atop the frozen pond. Just the sight of her, sparkling like the snow around you as the sunlight bounces off her skin, a glittering goddess. It beckons you back up to your feet, over and over and over again.
"C'mon, Gus!" Alice calls as she swoops by again. She knows better than to try and help you up and even you have to admit your scowl was a little too intense last time. "Up!"
You sigh, breath curling in the air, and push up again. Knees wobble, blades digging into the ice, gripping it. You wait… wait for the fall… hold your arms out to your sides, and sigh in relief when you remain standing.
Okay. Okay, you can do this. One foot in front of the other.
"Bella."
You lift your eyes long enough to glare across the ice at her and the amused lilt in her voice. "What."
She bats her eyelashes and you love that she's theatrical enough about it that you can see it all the way over here even with your shitty eyes. "You're too in your head, I can hear you thinking all the way over here!"
That would be just your luck if Alice turned out to be the mind reader. Listening to you prattle on in your head about the curve of her lips, the sound of her laughter, the light in her eyes. Of course, that would spare you from telling her all these things.
Hmm. Not a bad idea, actually.
Word vomit has always been your strong suit, you could just start speaking your thoughts aloud.
"Oh," you say in a distracted manner.
Just open the floodgates, let what comes out come out. Deal with the aftermath instead of the buildup. Why haven't you thought of this before?
"The trick is to just do it. Don't think. Don't wonder. Simply do," Alice tells you from much closer.
You blink, looking over your shoulder as she glides past. You catch a flash of golden eyes that look darker than normal. "Do or do not, eh?"
One of your skates slips forward - only an inch, but an inch is all it needs. Your entire balance is thrown off and your arms shoot up, desperately trying to hold onto the air as you wobble.
"Take a leap of faith, Bella."
You lean to the side, chewing on your lip, staring down at the skates that won't fucking stop moving.
"Please."
"Easy for you to say, Miss Olympic Gold Skater," you snarl at her and no one in particular. Maybe the sky. Maybe the ice. You're just so fucking sick of sucking at things in front of her.
Alice blinks in the time it takes for your foot to come up from beneath you and you're airborne. "Oh, yes, it works for skating, too," she says and the air is knocked from your lungs as your back connects with the ice.
"Pardon?" you wheeze and drag in more air.
She ignores your scowls and huffs, grabbing your hands as they try to swat her away. Your toes bump, skates locked against hers, and she pulls you up to your feet again. "Just breathe, Bella," she says around a smile and brushes the snow from your shoulders. "Hold your arms out and glide, just like…"
Your head tilts to the side. "Like..?"
Alice's grip on your arms tightens and you watch pools of ink swirl into the gold of her eyes until they take them over. Your skates slip but you don't fall, you're dragged up against her stone body until there's no space between the two of you. Her chest rumbles with a growl, maybe. "Your lip is bleeding," she tells you in a rough voice.
Instinctively, your tongue snakes out to check - a rusty sort of copper taste in your mouth, like how pennies smell. "Oh, fuck," you gasp and, well, do nothing in her vice-like grip. "Sorry."
She stares at you, at your lip without blinking. In those onyx eyes, you can see some internal struggle, can see the gears turning as Alice and instinct battle within. She sucks her own bottom lip into her mouth and - holy shit, thank god she's holding you because your knees? Fucking weak.
A horrible idea enters your mind, truly horrible, and probably just as dangerous, and you clench your jaw to keep from biting your tongue until it bleeds. You press your lips together, swiping your tongue along them to gather the blood, get rid of the blood - no matter what, Alice is your friend and this has to hurt.
Burn, she told you once upon a time. Their hunger burns like agony in their throats.
You won't do that to her. You won't be the reason she hurts.
So you suck on your lip until it stops bleeding, until a ring of gold slowly works its way back into Alice's eyes. You can't feel most of your body and you're undoubtedly catching a cold, but you don't move until you're sure Alice isn't burning. Until you're sure she's okay.
And when she finally blinks, finally steps back and smiles apologetically at you, you just grab her hand and ask her to drag your back to the car.
She spends the whole time laughing at you for the faces you made as you fell and it's… it's not quite what you hope for, it's not as much as you're dying for, but it is enough. Being her friend is enough.
It is.
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
The third time you try to tell her, it's your birthday and you're maybe in a worse mood than normal. Birthdays suck, to be honest, particularly yours, and you don't wanna be melodramatic so when people ask, you tell them it's "just not my thing," and leave out the part where your mom left your dad and moved the two of you all the way out to Arizona on your birthday.
(You don't blame them, marriages are… hard, and life happens. It's not like they realized it was your birthday at the time - you're pretty confident Renee would have waited if she knew.)
The Cullens seem to notice something is off, that you're a little more prickly than usual. They're extra patient today and aside from Rosalie shoving you on the ice at school, they've mostly tried to stay out of your way. Even Emmett didn't linger after he dragged you back to a less slippery patch of the parking lot while Rosalie smirked.
But school is done and now you're trapped up in Edward's room, changing into something nice at Alice's request. Which, like… your jeans didn't even have any tears in them today, what does she mean nice? But whatever, if she wants you in an admittedly nice cardigan like some kind of Stepford Friend, then fine. You don't give a shit.
It's just maybe a little unnerving that everyone else is dressed to the nines and watching you descend the stairs. You feel a little bit like Cinderella and that's dizzying on its own - you've never felt like a Disney Princess before but hey, there's a first time for everything, you guess. And if dressing nice means Alice looks at you like she is right now, well, maybe you'll put in a little more effort from now on.
The rest of the room fades out into blurry noise but Alice is clear as fucking day and your heart does that stupid thing where it doesn't realize how bad it fucking hurts to beat so hard. Looking at Alice is kind of like looking at the future itself and you don't know if it's just you or if it's her, her and her extraordinary ability. Something like promise lingers in her gaze, a dare hidden in her knowing smile.
Edward hooks his arm with yours as you miss the next step, he keeps you from tumbling down the rest of the stairs. You hardly notice; can't feel the statue keeping you upright, can't hear the chuckles from everyone else in the room.
There is only Alice.
Always, only Alice.
"Alice," your voice cracks on her name and you realize you haven't been breathing. "I have to tell you something."
She steps forward, out from under Jasper's arm, and your brain finally registers details. Your eyes flick up to him, his warm and genuine smile, his black eyes and the way he hovers near the pixie. "Yes, Bella?" she asks.
Her hand slides into yours, so smooth, so impossibly soft while remaining strong as she guides you down the last few steps. "I, uh." Your words falter, your attention torn between Alice and her husband. Her husband.
Her husband.
The gravitational pull yanks, it tugs and screams and burns in your chest. Your entire body hums with the need to be closer to Alice, especially with her beckoning you so gently, so softly. So open, she stares up at you with big golden eyes, an intimate smile meant only for you…
But your gaze snaps back up to Jasper. Her husband.
To Esme, her mother, and Carlisle. To each and every one of the Cullens - her family. Her family that has been so welcoming, has opened their home, their arms, and their hearts to you. A family you could so easily lose if you complicate too much - or worse, a family you could break.
They don't deserve that. They don't deserve to hurt just because your greedy human heart wants more.
(More, give me more, give me more…)
So you clear your throat. Adjust your glasses. Smile down at her and hope it reaches your eyes, try not to watch the concern dawn on her face. "Thanks for the cardigan," you say instead, and clench your jaw tight enough to make your teeth ache.
"Bella," she begins softly and her other hand is in yours so very suddenly. So close, you fit so well, too well. How easy it would be to reach up and brush your fingers against that elegant cheekbone, to tuck back her hair she wears down today.
"I actually picked it out, Boo!" Emmett croons loudly. He shoulders his way through the family, a big stone hand clapping you on the back painfully. "They wanted to get you a blazer. A blazer, Bells. I told them though, you're not a blazer kinda gal. And look at you! Fancy as hel-ck."
Esme sighs softly and shakes her head, but she smiles at you and adjusts your collar. "You don't have to wear it though, honey. Don't let the others strong-arm you into something you don't want to do."
It's said with a pointed look at Alice who smiles sheepishly. You grin and punch her playfully on the shoulder - a very platonic move, a friend move. What friends do. Good friends who don't try to ruin your marriage. But it hurts like fucking hell, and you grimace, wagging your sore hand around while Alice frowns at you. "Don't worry about me, Momma C. I can handle The Bane here."
"You are not allowed to start calling me that," Alice tells you sharply with a glare tossed towards Rosalie. "I am precious and you're only ever allowed to love me."
The others laugh and chuckle and you grin past the agony clawing at your chest. "Try and stop me," you tease her.
God, what are you even saying anymore?
Birthdays fucking suck.
Carlisle sighs happily before hopping in place, a thought striking him. "Oh! Before I forget, I saw your father earlier and he asked me to deliver this card. It's from your mother, Bella."
Everybody decides not to mention that Charlie isn't here to celebrate your birthday with you and you don't wanna crush soft hearts by telling them you literally don't care, you're just glad he remembered it is today.
But even you have to admit that you're surprised Renee remembered, let alone managed to send a card in time for the actual day. "Oh, thanks," you mutter and take it from him. Temptation lingers beneath, the wonder of if she wrote something or if it's another generic card.
(Hey, cards aren't her strong suit. Communication isn't her strong suit… okay, motherhood itself isn't her strong suit, but you can hardly hold that against her. It's not like she asked for a kid.)
Fate's a funny thing though. You're both shocked and impressed that she's managed to ruin your day from entire States away. You even kinda laugh in that disbelieving sort of way as the paper slices through your skin, blood drawing up to the surface behind it.
Like… a papercut? Really? That's how you're going?
Death by papercut?
Fate is… funny.
Your gaze lifts up to Jasper's surprised face as the first drop of blood begins to roll down your finger and everything feels like it happens in slow motion, like one of those damn movie cliches. His surprise slowly morphs into the epitome of hunger and Jasper fades away to the beast that waits just beneath.
Always waiting.
Edward's hand slams against his chest and Emmett grabs his shoulder, but Jasper's chest heaves and he sucks in a breath. Tastes your blood in the air. The muscles in his neck strain, the circles under his eyes a deathly purple and he looks less like a man, more like a creature of the night. His entire body twitches forward-
Cool lips wrap around your finger, airtight. Esme looks horrified, Carlisle can't seem to decide where his attention should lay, and Rosalie stands before you with her back to you, crouched and ready for Jasper.
But he's much calmer now. His own confusion battles against the rage of the beast before finally his head tilts to the side and his body relaxes in his brothers' hold. He simply stares at his wife in bewilderment.
You turn your head, glance down to where everyone else stares. Alice's fingers dig ever so slightly into your wrist, your finger still in her mouth. She stares ahead at nothing with her black, black eyes, and not another muscle in her body moves. You lick your lips nervously, and take a breath, shifting your shoulders to-
Esme holds her hand up, lightning quick. "Don't! Bella, don't!"
"Well, what-" you shake your head, glancing at her and back to Alice, "what do I d-ohhhhhkay…" you gasp, maybe melting a little bit when Alice's tongue drags along your finger and gathers the blood.
Her chest rumbles and you can feel it. You can feel her. You can feel everything and dear god, your head is buzzing so loud you can hardly think past it all. You don't even feel your back connect with the wall or the picture frames shake above you. Your eyes feel full, your eyelids heavy, and your skin tingles as electricity in the air crackles against it.
Somewhere in the back of your head, you remember Edward telling you about vampire pheromones and maybe you can hear them talking about it or yelling at Alice, but you don't care, you're not there, you're gone.
You're so far gone you can hardly breathe - yanking at the collar of your shirt, gasping for air but with each lungful you drag in, the pheromones grow stronger until you're delirious with it. "Fuck, Alice!" you groan. Her fingers dig into the wall beside your head and black pits watch you like a hawk, your hands both limp, down at your sides.
Edward is by your side and if your bones weren't made of jelly, you would kick his ass for intruding. As it is, you can barely glare up at him before a fresh wave of pheromones hits you and you slump back against the wall, fingers digging into Alice's marble shoulders. "She deserves better," you hear him say to Alice.
And it takes a while. You're stuck there, head full of buzzing bees that don't quite hurt. Your skin tingles like pins and needles, breathing laboured. By the time you open your eyes, it's just you and Edward. The look he gives you is somewhere between sympathy and amusement. You pant, puffing for breath, and raise a trembling hand to give him the finger. "Don't hate me."
"I could never," he tells you gently. He hangs his head, fingers fiddling with a small wrapped box. "I think, perhaps, I should hold onto this. Save it for… save it."
"I'm sorry."
Shadows of pain linger between his teeth, the smile sad and a little heartbreaking. "Don't be. It was my mistake, I should have seen it sooner." He slips the box into his pocket and holds out a water bottle instead. "Your secret is safe with me if that is something that worries you. The others latch onto assumptions of pheromones."
You play with the lid on the bottle awkwardly. "Uh, thanks. For, you know, all of it."
Edward nods once, but still can't quite meet your eye. Wounded pride or the sting of rejection, you can't decide. "I'm not sure how this will play out, Bella… but I think it's worth a conversation. You should-you should tell her."
Bitch, I'm trying. You take a breath. Push yourself up to your feet. "Yeah. Maybe."
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
The fourth time - the fourth time is the time, it has to be. Frankly, you're running out of options and if not your deathbed, then when do you proclaim your love for someone? It's like a deadline, no pun intended, a very strict deadline. At your deathbed, you should have your shit in order, but god… when have you ever had your shit in order?
No, now's not the time to open that up for thought. You've got maybe a handful of minutes left and dwelling on your own shortcomings sounds like a fucking tragic end and you refuse to be tragic - you refuse. Your whole life has lead to tragedy, it's always been there, waiting for you on the sidelines, waiting for you to give in.
Well, fuck you, Tragedy.
You're pretty damn happy with how things turned out.
You know, besides the whole dying thing. That… you could do without that.
"Just hold on, Bella," Jasper growls above you, his voice muffled. His shirt is torn, wet with… something - there's a creek nearby, if you remember. He's tied it around his face, black eyes glaring out from overtop, crouched in a defensive position to fight off any more newborns that get too close. "They'll be here soon. She'll be here soon."
"Oh, okay, I'll just try to die slower," you chuckle. Black eyes glare down at you and you can't see his frown, but you can feel it and shrink back. His eyes trace the blood that dribbles from your lips, down your chin, and you grimace. Hold the branch tighter. "You know, maybe I will try that, actually."
He leans down to press your hands more firmly around the branch and against your gut. "You're not dying," he tells you - orders you. Glares at you. Fuck. He really does care, doesn't he?
"I'm a… I'm a human shish kabob," you say with a bloody smile. "That's kinda funny, isn't it? Not a bad way to go."
"You're not going anywhere, Bella. They'll be here."
But you can't feel your arms anymore, and you haven't felt your legs in a while. Maybe you have to actually be dying to know that you are, but you can feel it. It's really the only thing you can feel anymore. "She can't see me, remember?" It's rhetoric but his eyes look grave. "Besides, there's uh, there's not enough time for Carlisle to do much of anything."
"I told her I would protect you," he says and slumps to his knees next to you. He runs his hands in his hair, smearing blood, but god, he doesn't even notice. Does he really care that much? "I told her I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"Not your fault," you groan. Okay, felt that. "Was stupid. Thought I could…"
Fuck. This really is it, isn't it?
Your eyes drift past him, over his shoulder to the blurs in the trees. You catch a flash of gold and smile. "Alice… I have to tell you som-"
Listen, you're not blaming her for the broken ribs, you get that she's scared, but you're not dead yet. That fucking hurts.
Alice slams into the tree, into you. Bark flies out from her fingers digging into the tree, and your neck strains as she jerks your chin up and to the side. Your eyes catch Jasper's. Roll up to the leaves in the tree. Dizzy, dizzy. So, so dizzy. Alice buries her fangs in your neck, her jaw clamping down, locking into place.
They're fucking bigger than they look and you cry out, hands clawing at the ground, at her back. Your lips quiver and tears roll down your cheeks - relief maybe? Surprise? Or pain? All of the above, probably. Everything you couldn't feel all comes rushing in at once; pain and agony and heartbreak, your chest feels like someone's clawing their way inside to rip out your heart… but joy and bliss - elation. That breathless giddy feeling, like dragons in your heart, when you first laid eyes on her. That-that warmth every time she smiles at you.
Eventually, she pulls back and god knows how long it's been. You feel weak and sore, with a sort of… rug-burn feeling in your neck. Your head lolls forward as you try to scrounge up enough strength to look at her one last time.
Just once more.
Please.
Her hands - her hands that aren't nearly as chilly as they usually are, they cup your face like you're something precious, and lift until you can flutter your eyes open and meet her gaze. Your smile is lazy, sleepy? Drowsy. And weak. Her lips are red with your blood, her eyes aglow with crimson rings.
Alice has never looked more beautiful and maybe you sob, just a little. Just for a second because - Jesus, even that hurts.
"Bella," she whispers and inches closer, always closer. As if she's as drawn to you as you are to her. "Please, don't leave me. Please."
You wince, sucking in a sharp breath against the twinge in your neck. Your fingers, slick with your own blood, grab at her shirt, at her shoulders as you try to anchor yourself here. "I have to t-tell you something. Alice."
Holy fuck, what is that in your neck?
She presses her forehead against yours, holding you to her. "Tell me."
"I…" Your hand drops from her shirt, reaches up to dig at your neck where the rug-burn blooms into a full-on inferno pocket. Another breath in, wet with blood but sharp with pain. Esme watches on from over Alice's shoulder, her face torn with sympathy and hope.
Carlisle kneels beside the two of you, tilting your head up and pulling your hand away. Your arm strains, desperate to claw at your neck, your stinging veins, to do something. Anything but just sit here and burn. "I know it hurts, Bella, but please try not to move. Don't scratch at it, don't hurt yourself."
"F-fuck!" you snap and shove at him, wildly trying to pull your hand free from his strong but gentle grip. It's your neck, you can scratch as much as you want. You have to. Stop the burning. Need to stop the burning. Stop the spreading. "No!" Hurts. Hurts, hurts, hurts.
You can feel it slithering like a snake of fire and acid through your veins, down your neck towards your chest.
Fuck him for not letting you stop it.
Pale fingers guide you by your chin until Alice's new eyes lock onto yours. "Just look at me, Bella. I'm so sorry. I can't lose you. I'm sorry."
There's a flash of blonde, Rosalie reaching down to grab the fucking branch still impaled through your abdomen, but you don't even feel it when she yanks it out in one quick motion. Not past the burning. Not past the sun exploding in your chest. You breathe deeply, shakily, but stare at Alice.
Just look at Alice.
Don't stop looking at Alice.
Alice.
"Alice."
It's the last word you manage to get out before the screaming begins.
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
The fifth time you try to tell her, you don't even want to. It's not the right time, it's not, you know that. You're older, hopefully a little wiser, not just an infatuated kid anymore. You've been a vampire for six months, the red is still fading from your eyes, and the others expect a wild animal every time you move… but you're not. You're still you, and you can see how much Alice is hurting.
It seems… wrong, to help pack up Jasper's things from their room. Her room, Alice's room. Not theirs, not anymore. Two separate rooms for two separate people, a loving marriage divided by divorce.
You know you're to blame, you have to be. They were a happy couple before you met the family, before you brought destruction and ruin to their lives.
A family too easy to break. You should have backed off. You knew this would happen, that you would ruin these precious people.
Bella Swan breaks things, that's what she does, and it's even more your fault because you knew, damn it.
The lamp in your hands shatters and you watch every shard fall to the floor and skitter off beneath the bed. Your lips twitch and you stare down at it, holding the biggest pieces in your hands still. Chaos and destruction, that's what you reap. Effortlessly.
"Bella? Are you okay?"
They keep asking you that. As if you could ever be anything but okay. You're a vampire, you're a newborn vampire - indestructible. But… but maybe they know something you don't. Maybe they know why you feel like there's this gaping hole in your chest, sucking away any fleeting feeling you have. Why you always come back to this empty, cold nothing.
Everything about it is amplified, Bella, Esme had told you. Everything.
Probably depression, too. Just your fucking luck. Is this how Edward feels? No, he's sad, you're… empty.
A broken but invulnerable vessel. A walking contradiction. "Yes," you say and blink. "I'm fine."
"You're always fine," Alice counters and her voice is so concerned. Even with everything going on in her life, she puts it aside for you. Your best friend. The best person you know. You look up and see her sit on the bed, holding a drawer in her hands while she gazes up at you with big eyes full of emotion.
You squeeze your empty ones shut and kneel on the floor, gathering the shards of the lamp into a pile. "Is that not a good thing? Many people aren't fine."
"Many people aren't a vampire. Many people weren't killed, they didn't lose their best friend in a battle that never should have happened, they weren't forced to leave their father and endure a burn like no other, every single moment of the past six months." The bed bounces and you glance up, see Alice by the edge, inches from you. Her fingers tuck your hair behind your ear and you wait for the butterflies.
"Second best friend, Alice. I didn't lose you."
Her smile is soft and lovely. "Has anyone ever told you how charming you are?"
"You. Often," you point out with furrowed brows.
"Hm. Sometimes I wonder if you can hear or see me at all."
The fuck? You stare harder, broken porcelain slipping from your fingers. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Bella." She sighs softly, fingertips dragging down the side of your face before she rolls back to her side of the bed. "You have a lot going on right now, I forget sometimes."
She goes back to searching through the drawer, pulling out random nick nacks that have to be Jasper's. And before your temper can get the best of you, you remind yourself that she's also going through a lot. The two of you are literally moving her ex-husband's stuff out of her room.
I'm the worst friend.
"I'm sorry," you tell her after a moment. She glances back at you with a raised eyebrow and your shoulders drop in a shrug. "I'm just sorry."
"It's not your fault, Bella." She stares thoughtfully down at the dog tags in her hand. "Things… happen, I've found through all my years. Usually, there is no one to blame. Whether you act or not, life continues on, and things happen."
"Sometimes we make things happen, though."
Alice considers this and nods. "That's true. But that doesn't mean they aren't supposed to happen. Did you know," she begins, a little more upbeat. She sets the dog tags down in the drawer again and instead picks up a small, leatherbound journal. "Did you know that I had two back-to-back visions thirty-three years ago? Shockingly, that almost never happens."
"Why not?"
"I-" Alice falters. "Well, I don't know. Maybe people commit to decisions more than they think they do, even when they doubt themselves. I've never thought about it before, actually. Hm."
You nod. "Oh." Well, that's… something. You sigh and scoop up the broken lamp, placing all the pieces in a cardboard box. Whose lamp was that, anyway? "What was the first?"
"You married Edward."
It's not really anything against him, it's just that the thought of it has your face twisting up like you've sucked on a sour lemon. Alice giggles from across the bed and you can't help but scoff and smile. "And I committed to that?"
"Sort of. It was very - clear? I saw it all, how you met, how he fell for you. Everything you went through to be with him," she explains with the smallest hint of a frown. "James would always hunt you down, Victoria would always try to avenge him, but… she didn't kill you in that future. Jacob wasn't as angry in that one, we had - left. I don't know why."
Jesus. It sounds like a nightmare - you lived, but it sounds like an absolute nightmare.
Alice shakes her head, coming back to the present. "You even had a child, but yes. I saw it so vividly." Her golden eyes search yours, picking apart your thoughts, looking for… something. "Our actions change, but our hearts do not. Only very rarely. Would you have married Edward, Bella? Even if you didn't love him?"
"Maybe," you whisper. Really, you have no idea. He's not the worst guy, you're actually pretty good friends. If it was Edward or nothing… well. It's Edward or nothing now, and you chose nothing. Hmm. But they didn't leave you, here. She said they left you there and - no, no. You can't be without them. You couldn't go back to how it was before the Cullens. "Yes."
Bella Swan needs the Cullens. Any way she can get them.
Another thoughtful look passes over Alice's face. "Why didn't you this time?"
Your breath catches.
Because you smiled at me, that very first day. As you danced by, you caught my eye and smiled… and I have felt it every day since.
Because I couldn't possibly be anyone's but yours.
Because you're here with me.
Because I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life.
"I." You clear your throat. "Alice." Not here. Not like this. She deserves better, she deserves more.
"You have to tell me something."
Your hands clench. Nails dig into your palms. Skin cracks. She watches, anxious, eager, leaning in, in, in. But she deserves the world. To see it, to dance in it, to laugh in it. And you? You can't feel anything.
You can't feel anything.
You can't feel her smile.
Nothing.
Only ever empty.
"I think I'm broken."
Like the wind that cries
I can feel you in the night
A distant lullaby
Underneath the shattered sky
There's a flash of surprise right before you tackle Alice off her feet, rolling through the powdery snow twice before you settle on top of her. Neon green paint drips from your chin onto her shirt from the lopsided grin you give her. "Gotcha!"
"That's cheating!" she chirps breathlessly and your mind - so loud, so active, so full - doesn't catch that she really shouldn't be breathless. Can't be breathless.
Instead, you hum and smear the orange paint beneath her eye, along her cheekbone. "Nuh uh," you insist earnestly. "It was fucking difficult, but I refrained. For so long."
"I know." She smiles and rests her hands on your thighs but you never let your guard down, you know better than that. Despite her claims, she's the cheater. Her and Edward, and you'll be damned if Team Psychic wins this game. "How are you doing? Does this trigger your shield?"
"Nope," you shake your head and grin, "I'm all a'flutter with feels, won't let it creep back up on me. I'm not really in danger, am I."
Her golden eyes glow up at you with mischief and a dare, glancing over your shoulder before meeting your gaze again. "That depends on your definition, but I would prefer if you felt every moment of it."
Your head tilts curiously but your eyes glance around the field. Emmett pelts Jasper with a balloon of paint, ducking down for Rosalie to launch over him and get her brother with another - an explosion of pink and purple spraying across the snow and in his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Her hands slip into yours, fingers lacing together, and you settle back on her, not really able to pin her anymore. Something feels… different. The way she's looking at you, the way her smile curves up a little hopefully, a little excitedly. "Two years, we've been friends."
"Best friends," you agree slowly.
Her thumb brushes the back of your hand and - intimacy? Is that what's different? Your hands tighten in hers, heart lurching in your chest. "Best friends," she repeats. "And you've been trying to tell me something for most of that time."
"Um."
Holy fuck, did she notice? All this time? Does she know what you've been trying to tell her?
Alice's face softens. She presses one of your hands to her face, smoothing it out until you're cupping her cheek. The gold of her eyes smoulder and you swallow idly. "You never asked me what my second visions was, all those years ago…"
"I-I couldn't - my shield," you fumble with your words, your mind racing. You shake your head, scrounging up all of your grace. "What was it?"
"I can show you," Alice whispers and that glint is back. She nods over you. "Look up."
You don't really want to look away, not from her, never from her, but you're also compelled to always do what she requests. She asks surprisingly little of you and by god, you'd give her the universe if you could.
So you look up, you give in to such a small request. The roof of the Denali house is pretty enough, the clouds so close and fluffy way up here. It's truly a beautiful day, and maybe you can see a bird or two swooping around up there. What does she see that you ca-
The shock of green registers a second later. Right on the edge of the roof, hanging directly above you. A vibrant red ribbon in a big beautiful bow. Fucking hell. This whole time? Was she-? Did she-?
"Al-!" Your voice cuts out when you look back down at her, noses almost bumping. She'd leaned up at some point, waited for you and your dumb, dumb brain to catch up. Bubblegum invades your senses and you can feel your eyes darken. "Alice," you whisper.
God. She's so close. So, so close.
Close enough that you can feel her lips lift in a smile. "Take a chance, Bella. A leap of faith. It's as easy as skating."
I love you.
I love you, I love you, "I love you."
Like the softest of dreams, her bottom lip drags against yours before you capture it in a firm kiss. Gentle and strong, eager and patient, she perfectly balances everything you are, right down to the fundamentals that make you, well, you. And, fuck, you get it, you do. Sitting here in the snow, kissing Alice, it fucking clicks.
Soulmates aren't two halves of a whole. Love is not a puzzle.
It's a symphonic fucking opera and soulmates are two notes held in the most perfect of harmonies, and you know it, you can hear it, the whole world singing in your head, in your heart. How… how did you go so long without hearing the music? Always there, always in the background, so soft between the two of you.
Alice's fingers drag over the scar on your neck and you shiver, feel her smile against your lips, and hum.
Maybe it took you two years. Maybe it took you five tries. Maybe it took you not trying to finally be able to do it, to tell her. But you did and it's oh so worth it. Alice is oh so worth it.
And you will spend the rest of your days telling her.