Edward was running again, no real direction or destination in mind. He knew he was somewhere south of Whitehorse, but it was no matter to him, as long as he stayed north of Washington. He spent most of his time these days alone, running, drowning in thoughts of Bella. He didn't visit his family often, for he preferred the time alone more than dragging them down with him in his misery.

In 105 years, nothing had hurt him as much as leaving her did.

Every flare of pain he felt in all his time as a vampire could be added, multiplied, factored by ten thousand and it would not reach a fraction of this feeling. Even after months of being without her, every part of him screamed for him to find her, hold her close, and promise to never leave again. He would never be ready for his life to go back to being the vacant sky, void of her light, no matter how long he was separated from her.

For her, he kept telling himself, over and over. They had become the gentle words that kept him going, kept him from crawling out of his own skin. He was being selfish, wholly so, by putting his feelings before her life. He was letting the monster take over by being with her. How much longer could he put her in danger? This was the obvious solution, the one answer to the complicated tangle of problems he brought into her life. Leaving meant letting her live. It meant giving her a chance to move on and finally have a normal human life.

Edward's legs began to slow automatically as he thought of the life Bella could have without him. He absolutely wanted this for her, wanted her to be happy, but he was almost knocked to the ground as visions of her with someone else assaulted him. His jaw clenched tightly, and he pressed his fists against his forehead, commanding the images of someone else's arms around her, someone else's lips on hers, to go away. His mind traveled anyway, disobeying his desperate attempts to change the visions he saw.

Each image was getting clearer, more detailed, as hands that were clearly not his were traveling up her sides slowly, lightly touching her neck, and eventually tangling in her hair. These were the insights his mind gave when he thought of her moving on and forgetting about him. He knew it would happen eventually. One year, five years, ten years, ultimately she would find someone else. He let out a ragged breath as he willed the imagined fantasies to disappear. He wanted her to be happy, but it did not make this realization hurt any less.

Every part of Edward's body was betraying him since he'd left her. His mind did nothing but assail him with memories of her, his chest ached in a way he'd never felt before, and even his sense of direction seemed to do nothing but try to aim itself back to Forks. It overtook him often, and he had to redirect himself north again, away from her. He knew the second he'd met her that his life would been changed forever, but he could not predict that his senses, his thoughts, his skin, his bones, every single aspect of his being would practically scream in protest at leaving her. He couldn't have known that every second he spent away from her would only breed more of this feeling.

His whole body tensed as the new images his brain concocted were almost as torturous, and infinitely more taunting. His arms were now wrapped her warm body, her unique and agonizing fragrance filling his too-vivid memories. Edward knew he shouldn't let his brain slip into the reverie, that it would only make it worse when he snapped out of it, but he needed the thoughts of someone other than him touching her in such a way to be washed from his mind. He was remembering her laugh, and the way the sound felt like it warmed him from inside out. He was remembering her soft hair, her soft hands, her soft lips. He groaned at the last thought, and he could practically feel her lips moving against his as he tasted her delicious flavor.

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, unable to end the torture despite all of his concentration. His treasonous mind reminded him he could have this, could have it at any moment, as long as he returned to her. He could hear her laugh again, if he wanted, or could feel her warm fingertips on his face as she traced the circles under his eyes when he waited too long to hunt. He could have her arms circled around his waist, he could see her blush again, if he truly desired it.

He was remembering her eyes now, the warm brown colour distracting him. It was a colour that flood his memories often, a colour that seemed to instantly fill his heart so intensely he could almost feel it beat.

The thought of returning seemed so sinful before, but the part of his brain that controlled it seemed to be buckling under all of the memories.

He was running again, and he'd barely noticed. He knew exactly where he was going, it was the route he had to fight against every time his feet took over. He didn't fight this time, though. He was searching for the mantra that kept him away from her, but the delicate words that usually controlled him transformed from for her, for her, for her to find her, find her, find her.

A small voice yelled at him to stop and run the other way, that he couldn't go back, that he would eventually hurt her, but he was too far gone. Edward let his instincts take over, and every instinct, every single molecule in his body told him to go back to Bella.

Just a glimpse. Just one look at her, and I'll leave again, he rationalized. She didn't have to know, after all. He could be discreet.

And so Edward ran, faster than ever.

*

Part three coming soon.

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