Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I do not.
Songs That Inspire: The Boy That Blocked His Own Shot – Brand New, Say It to Me Now – The Frames, Glycerine – Bush, The Garden – Mirah, White Flag – Dido
(Prelude 12/21 – AFI, Tautou – Brand New)
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Four months and 14 days later…
BPOV
I knew where he would be. The same place I went for memories of us in this place. Part of me wished I were wrong, it had become a new place to me since then. I froze in the doorway. He was so beautiful. I had anxiously awaited for this day to come, as apprehensive and dread-filled as I had been, I needed to see him again.
I inhaled deeply, breathing in all the way for the first time in forever, I didn't need air, but the relief I felt was astounding. The pressure on my chest gave way. I could smell it then, Edward's scent, intoxicating and tantalizing as ever, mixed with the smell of sex. Felix.
Fuck.
He turned towards me, slowly, deliberately. He knew I was here. His face was a careful mask and we locked eyes for long minutes. I couldn't read anything in his expression and I refused to invade on his thoughts. It wasn't right. He is my equal, I deserve no advantage.
No, that wasn't it. I was terrified. I could only imagine the venom and hate in his thoughts as he looked at me. Did I mean anything to him now? If I did, so help me God, I could only imagine what my actions must have done to him. What I must be doing to him. I choked back a sob. I once caused physical pain to him and his family and now he's standing here in the room where I have sinned, over and over, betraying him, my beloved husband, and my better half. He deserved so much more.
Still, why has he never come before?
Shut up, you don't deserve to know why. You never deserved his attention.
I don't deserve.
I could see it now; I would never, ever love another. My love could destroy us both and I am useless to stop it, to keep him safe.
Can he see these emotions on my face?
Please Edward, talk to me, please.
His eyes are cold, black and flat. He knows what I've done. A sob breaks through.
Without warning he's across the room and gripping my arms tight, kissing me, ravaging my mouth with fury. He can have this, if he wants it, he can have anything. My heart is breaking; all the pieces are forever his. The one vision I allowed myself of Edward was when this is all over, when he truly returns to his family. I couldn't look beyond that. I don't want to know who gets to keep him. I can't look beyond this; all I can do is feel. I've missing him so much. My lips part and he doesn't hesitate. If my lips could bruise they would. My body is racked with sobs but all I can do is grip on to his shoulders.
He is taking me without tenderness and it's more than I have ever felt, feeling how he feels nothing. He's never kissed me like this before and if my change had been normal; if I was what he deserved me to be then he would never have kissed me like this. I'll never again kiss Edward the way I want to. That thought cripples me. This is…Edward's pain and anger manifested. I'll take it.
His fingers are like iron cuffs around my arms, digging in painfully, and his mouth is pressed hard against mine and if I needed air I would have fainted. My head is swimming from his scent alone. He bites my lower lip, it's carnal and if it was an act of passion, I would be purring, as it is, I can only whimper pathetically. Oh God, he can have that too.
He spins me away from the doorframe and backs me up to the receptionist's desk. The smell of sex has been absorbed into the wood and I cringe. Edward lets out an angry breath and throws me on it, the wood splinters beneath my back and although it doesn't hurt physically I can't help but flinch. I brace myself on my elbows and look up at him, his hands on each side of my bent knees, his head hung. He is breathing fast and hard. He is livid, his eyes turn up to meet mine from beneath his beautiful black lashes and they are dark still. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. A broken gasp is sucked into my chest and the ache is back. He's going to leave me again. I foolishly hoped what I saw was wrong, my godforsaken power, my horribly accurate use of Alice's gift, should have rid me of my ridiculous notion. I'm choking on my breath. I stop breathing. I will weather this storm. He deserves this, at the very least. Closure. My breath hitches, caught on the agony.
I can hear the wood breaking beneath his fists, I'm sure it's only been minutes since I found him here, but it feels like the worst lifetime I have ever endured. He stares at me, his nostrils flaring with each breath. My body is tense and I fall back, digging the heel of my palms into my eyes, I wish for the release of tears. My skull feels like it will rip open with the pressure. He roughly grabs my wrists and tears my hands away from my face, slamming them down on either side of my head. I stare at the ceiling. I can't see him like this, this isn't my Edward.
My Edward. He'll never be my Edward again. The pressure is building, the sobs aren't enough release. He has one knee up on the outside of my right leg and he's leaning over me. His hair obstructing my view of the wooden beams above me, his cold breath fanning down onto my collar bone and I shiver.
Why hasn't he said anything? I can feel his eyes on me and finally I move my gaze towards him. He has a pained look on his face and his jaw is tense. I hate myself more than I ever have in this moment. His lips crash down on mine once again. I can't help but half-heartedly move my own against his. I know this will break me later but I need him so fucking badly I can't help but respond to him. I love him so much. I want him more than anything, I want him always. He breaks from my mouth and runs kisses down my neck. His hands release my wrists and grip my blouse; he tears it from my body, my bra following it seconds later. My body is shivering and shaking with the increase in my sobs. I will never breathe the same again.
I can't look at his face. I can't see the hate I am sure to find there. This is the first time he's seen my body like this, hard and cold. The human body is gone and no matter how perfect this new one is, I loath it just for that fact. I am Hell's version of Helen of Troy. My body demands destruction in its selfish name. Edward resisted my demon self, no matter how badly we wanted him. I sound like a fucking schizophrenic. I am no better today, a civil demon wrapped in a black cloak of civility. It eats away at me. I don't want to be alone, but goddammit, I can't stand that my only company for all of eternity is a horrific voice caged within my mind.
These are my thoughts as his mouth trails down my neck to my breasts. I don't move my hands from beside me no matter how badly I wish I could caress his strong jaw or run my fingers through his perfectly messy hair. I doubt he would want me to touch him. He nips at the inside of my breast, it stings. Perhaps we are more physically equal than I thought.
If he wants to destroy me, for that reason alone I would wish him to.
His hands move down my sides to the waistband of my slacks, he hooks his fingers around them and my underwear and he tears away those pieces of clothing as well. I am exposed to him.
One of his hands curls around my hip and the other slides down to my core. My body reacts to him, as it always does and he growls when he feels his fingertips become slick.
Then, for the first time in more than two decades, I hear his deep voice, husky and frigid.
"Does he touch you like this?"
I can hear the anger in his words as he plunges two fingers into me, curling them around, gripping onto my insides in a way that is both pleasure and pain. His words slice through me and the pressure is unbearable in my head, I feel the gifts of others crashing down on me but I resist, I have manipulated my shield and I refuse myself access. My chest feels like it weighs a thousand pounds and I cannot respond to him. I throw my head back, my neck arching, seeking some kind of release I cannot fathom. If my heart was anything but a cold stone within me, I could swear it was tightening painfully. I recognize the feeling, the hole that was in me when he left me, the hole that reopened when I left him; it's gaping and ripping at the edges, threatening to split me in two. His fingers continue to penetrate and curl, tension builds in my lower abdomen and his other hand is holding my hips down. With each thrust of his hand his palm pushes against my swollen clit. His mouth has not stopped its assault on the skin of my chest and stomach, kissing, sucking, licking and biting, his jaw as tense as ever despite its efforts.
I can't stand this; I know all he can think of is my betrayal. His words affirmed that his thoughts were on my wickedness. I can only think of him, I've only ever been able to think of him. I bite my lip to keep these words in. My throat clenches, sobs rip out between my teeth and my nails dig into my palms. Everything is sensation and emotion, a conflict rages between them and its building.
His perfect pink lips are moving lower until he is whispering against my sensitive nerves, his hand turned down to accommodate him. He is looking over the plains on my body and I can't help but look down at him. I am naked and writhing beneath him, my body shaking with unshed tears and physical ecstasy and he is everything that I am not. Collected, disaffected, clothed. He is guarded from me and I'll never get back in. His whispers reach my ears.
"Does he taste you like this?" His features turn into a sneer as his tongue reaches out for me. It's too much. I was wrong. I can't let it go any longer, I would give him anything and everything, but this could break me more than anything ever has. I can't risk it. If I break, does he? Lord help me, I can do no right.
My leg pulls up and folds over, my shin briefly blocking his perfect face before I roll it to close against my other thigh, brushing my foot down and pushing him away. He pulls up until he is standing over me, the hateful sneer still marring his handsome face, he drags the back of his hand across his mouth and I look away.
He is done with me and we both know it.
EPOV
I've never been angrier than I was in this room. I could smell the two of them together and if I could have been sick, I would have. I knew she was standing in the door, I could feel her eyes trained on my back. I could sense her presence. I would always notice her.
Apparently I was not the only one.
I went numb then. I needed to have her body, to have control over her. She was mine and only mine as I am only hers. How could she forget us?
I could smell the heady scent of sex saturated into the old wood desk as I ravaged her body and tore her clothes from her, it spurred me on and I gave full reign to the animal within me. Only instinct would survive this. She was heartbreakingly beautiful and my body came alive as I clawed my hands over her body. I wanted to leave my mark on her. This desk should smell of us.
I wondered if she had been like this with him. Had he touched her like this? Had she moaned and called out in bliss beneath him? Had he tasted every inch of her body? My grip tightened on her hip. Had she pealed of his shirt and ran her hands down him? Had she tugged on his hair, urging him on? Before I knew what I was doing, I asked her these questions. I had to know. Let this torture be thorough, I needed to know everything and I despised the fact that there was anything to know.
How could she do this to me? I could never do such a thing to her. I refused all advances for roughly a century and she is away for a portion of that time and gives her body freely? She must not love me. How dare she respond to me like this when my actions have nothing to do with love! When her actions have nothing to do with love... My jaw feels like it is going to snap under the strain. More than anything I want to wrap my arms around her waist and hold her to me forever. But I can't. This is the last straw, I've no dignity left and I can't stay here any longer.
I remain numb, even as she pushes me away and rolls to her side, curling into herself. Her arms are wrapped around her and if I didn't know any better I would think I was watching her heart break. But it was only mine that shattered. She had moved on. I must find a way to do the same. I had to stop hoping for her to come back to me. I was right all those years ago. She died the day I changed her. I killed my gentle, sweet Bella and somehow I've lived on – my punishment.
I need to be strong now and step up. My family is falling apart and I've been gone long enough. I need to leave this room. Fight or flight. I realize with some shock that I just fought my last real battle. Am I the victor? Is this what the broken creature before me represents? Defeat? Is this her relinquishing her claim over me?
I'm not thinking straight. It's time for flight. Her voice, a broken, whispered melody, urges me to leave and I listen.
Goodbye, Edward.
AlicePOV
"Jasper, what do you think will happen to us all?"
My gorgeous husband turns his eyes towards me, his face as sad as the rest of us. I can only imagine the climate of emotions he is suffering through and I struggle to lighten up, to give him some relief. A small smile graces his lips at my efforts and I can't help but return it. I'm curled into him on our bed while he reads, my head tucked safely under his arm. I can't imagine being without him.
"I don't know, but no matter what, I'm with you." He pecks my forehead and then turns back to his history book. I grin as I watch him read, I thought he must know every name of every soldier documented in the civil war by now. I don't understand how he can still find things to learn about but I'm grateful for it. He is my constant.
I want my sister back so badly and it kills me that I can't remember what happened in her room. I felt horrid the day Edward came for an unexpected visit and finally caught me thinking about it. He took off immediately, to see her for himself. I knew he must've been thinking about going to her for a long time, but our visit was the straw that broke the camels back.
I pulled myself tighter against my husband, seeking the comfort only he could give. More than his power, his body against mine was like a healing balm. We were both where we were supposed to be.
Edward had been away from us for a long time, living a nomadic life. I knew he was drowning himself in his despair. He could try to keep it from us, but the knowledge of it coupled with our longing for him and our sister crippled us. Esme felt the absence of her children and Carlisle spent days pouring over books, trying to understand why Bella had become what she was. Emmett and Rosalie spent days in their room together, bodies locked, and seeking solace from the desperate emptiness of our household. They wouldn't speak or move. Instead they would just stare at each other. None of us could understand an existence without our halves.
Jasper pulled his fingers through my hair absent-mindedly and my eyes closed. As long as I had him I could handle whatever came next. Dread sat in my stomach while we waited to hear from our brother. I knew Bella was lost to us and a small part of my heart would always be missing. We can't lose him too.
A wave of calm spread through me and I opened my eyes to smile up at my love.
Then I heard the front door open and I noticed the perplexed look on Jasper's face. I didn't wait to ask him about it though as I threw myself from our room and hurtled down the stairs into my favourite brother's arms. I held onto him for dear life as each family member entered the room behind me. Esme's arms encircled us both and then Carlisle's. Finally I let go and chanced a look up at his face. He looked…tired. His lips curled up briefly before he turned his face to Jasper.
"Your assessment is correct as always brother. Resignation would be the dominant emotion. I'm ready to come back to you all and I'm sorry, especially to you Esme, for being absent as long as I have."
He refused to tell us about his time with Bella, instead he explained that he spent the last week finally getting ready to come back to us. He said he knew his place was with us and he was ready to step up and be the man we all thought him to be. He said these things to comfort us but my heart broke for him. I knew he would go on living as long as she did, whether he believed it to be her or not. I think he was punishing himself, I think he held himself responsible for what she had become. My thoughts twisted around this idea, something was off. I felt like I was missing the big picture when it came to Bella and it gnawed away at my mind until we retired to our room later. Why could I not remember what she had spoken to me about that day?
A memory came to me then – that day…that day exactly four months and 21 days ago. The memory of her face contorted in pain as she said the words. I felt a part of me rebel against the fact that my brother had returned to us today. My brother, not the shell of a man he had been. He was back and I couldn't bear the fact that he was back without her.
I could hear him playing Esme's song on the piano. Could things really go back to normal now? No, we would always feel her absence.
I heard his fingers stumble over a single key and I forced my mind to be silent.
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