(A/N: In the words of my charmingly crude mother, 'Woot!'
Ah, yes. She takes 'gamer' to a whole new level. You have no idea. It is disturbing. In any case, the reason for my random exclamation of joy; Reviews!
Yes, dear readers, you have made me revert to internet slang. Not an easy thing to do. I appreciate it! Don't you love reviews? I love reviews?
If you leave more, I may even start having other such lapses in concentration. Bring on the lapses! I love them!
Thank you to those who reviewed, those who put an alert on the story, and added it to their favourites. It means a lot, I promise you!
On with the story, and some good old BPOV… )
My Dearest, Darling B e l l a.
A Twilight FanFiction
by Becky Scarlett-Cullen
Chapter 2
BPOV.
Edward.
My dear Edward.
My dearest, darling Edward.
Dear Edward,
I needlovemisscan't live without Keep it light.Would like to talk to you.
I can understand that you might not want to. I don't blame you. I wouldn't. I know what you said, and I'm sorry to be bothering you. No… no, I'm really not… But I wanted to talk to you about the promise you made me. What a load of rubbish. I had known he'd never have been able to keep that one.You can take my pictures, my tickets and my CDs… but you can never remove my memories. Thank goodness. You can't ever take them. They're mine. Ours. Much as you want, I'll never forget—even if my mind is, like you said, a sieve. I don't think so. Even if I live for another eighty years, I will never stop loving you forget.
I love you. I am sorry.
Yours. Forever and always.
Bella Swan.
I read over the note several times, taking in the paper's crumpled appearance, ink stains and numerous scribbles whenever my words became too intense. Several drops were splattered across the paper; my tears. Writing this had been harder than I'd ever thought…
Not that it would ever reach him.
Wrapping my arms around my torso, I made my way to the window—always open, never locked or closed—and left the letter to my only love on the windowsill.
I could not bear to look at it, after that. I just went through the motions. I had my shower, pulled on old sweats and brushed my teeth in a choking fog. So wrapped up was I in my routines that I failed to notice the fact that the window closed, the note gone. I even failed to notice the tiny, pixie-like figure standing there, a piece of paper in her hand, until she spoke.
"Hello, Bella…"