My feet hit the concrete harder as I ran faster.
It was a two minute walk at most, but I needed to gather my thoughts before he came.
James, someone who I had many nights with, waved at me, and I just kept on running.
I almost slammed into my apartment door and fumbled with my keys.
A pair of hands slid their own keys into the lock as I shoved mine back into my pocket.
I stood there for a second, catching my breath.
He walked in, and I followed.
I slammed the door behind me.
He flinched.
"Was it a coincidence, or did you know I was here?" My voice sounded harsh and bleak, and I didn't care.
"I found out five minutes before class," He took a step towards me, and I took a step back and to the side.
"So that clears one thing up," I couldn't bring myself to say anything else.
I missed him.
I still fucking loved him.
I still wanted him.
And the fact he was wearing a vintage Slayer shirt didn't help either.
We both had the same thing happen to us.
We both turned to metal.
Sweet, sweet metal.
And I thought that was hot as fuck.
But I couldn't be swayed.
Not by him.
Not now.
Not ever.
I was a numb person.
No feeling.
No consideration.
No liking.
No love for my own fucking species.
I was a hollow shell.
I wanted to stay that way.
"Well, I'd say welcome, but right now, you're not," I scoffed at myself. I would laugh if I really wanted to, but I didn't. "Stay the fuck away from my stuff, me, and my classes."
I didn't give him time to react as I walked to my room and slammed the door shut.
He wouldn't bother me.
He would.
Edward was just like that.
And he probably wanted to know why I left right after he did.
He really didn't understand the concept of anyone else, did he?
I heard knocking mere seconds after I slammed the door and I clenched my jaw.
Did he not understand I wanted to be left alone?
I flung my door open in a very dramatic way, and stood aside to let him in.
If he wanted to talk, I would let him talk.
Let him explain.
Didn't mean I was going to explain, though.
Nothing was going to make me explain.
Well, maybe truth serum.
He sat on my bed, and for a second I wondered how he'd look, sprawled on my covers, fast asleep and in the middle of the day.
I almost slapped myself right there.
Bad Bella.
Cannot think that way about him.
Remember what he did to your heart?
Still didn't change the fact he still had that amazing body and he'd look good on my covers.
I think, for a second, I was wrapped up in my own fanatsies enough to not realize he was smirking at me.
That fucker was smirking.
Asshole.
"Say what your going to say."
"I'm sorry, Bella, I just needed to go away."
I almost scoffed and smiled, a nervous habit, but I kept my ground and glared.
He really was self-absorbed.
I was probably just someone he thought he loved until a new piece of ass came along and took my place.
It probably happened, too.
I kept my mouth shut, because quite frankly, I didn't want to explain anything to him.
"I should've told you something, anything. I know how both of our parents dying affected us both," You don't know the half of it, Edward. How about you leaving on top of that? No goodbye. No, 'have a nice life.' No, 'I love you.' "I know how fires scare us both," I love fire. I loved it since I was little. Even if I was a bit.. weary about it, fire was still something I admired. "How I could've helped us both. I'm so sorry, Bella."
He should've been explaining it to himself, because he suddenly got up off of the bed and left.
What was the good of that?
He just confirmed he was a grade-A douche, and igorant person I still loved.
Still loved.
Fuck.
That was a problem.
I not going to be defeated- My three years of hard work wouldn't be left for dead.
I would win.
And fucking him wasn't wining.
But it wasn't loosing, either.
I heard Iron Maiden's Number Of the Beast playing, and I brought my shirt up and over my body.
I slid my skirt down, and took my undergarments off.
If he wanted to apologize, he would have to do it my way.
I put my sweater on, and zipped it up.
I left my room and knocked on his door.
I heard a, "Go away," And creaked the door open.
My sweater was visible, but my below my waist wasn't.
I smiled at him, and he smiled at me.
"Did you change?" He asked, and took his shirt off.
Exactly the same.
Damn.
Still hot as hell.
I nodded and when he reached for his pants, I stuck my head in a bit more.
He slid those off and was now in his boxers.
Perfect.
"Edward," I whispered when his back was turned.
I was fully exposed now.
"Hm?" He turned around and without warning, I practically tackled him.
I slid his boxers down immediately, and he knew the rest.
He was my first, after all.
He was still the biggest I'd ever…
And probably would still be.
But this wasn't love.
It wasn't hate.
It wasn't emotion.
It was just sex.
It was just momentary pleasure, and then whatever time I had left with him to reel about it.
I didn't care though.
He was still the best guy I'd ever fucked.
As it was, though, It wasn't anything.
To me, Edward was dead.
My parents were dead.
My dog was dead.
My love was dead.
For all I knew, I was dead.