Disclaimer: I only have the plot.
I feel my body weakened by the years
As people turn to gods with cruel design
Is it that they fear the pain of death?
Or could it be they fear the joy of life
Pray Your Gods, Toad the Wet Sprocket
Rule Four: Don't ever hesitate.
~Alice~
Why am I so stupid? How couldn't I have seen this?
And, most importantly, what do I do now?
Edward is standing stock still, his eyes glazed over as he stares at her. He shakes his head and backs away from her slowly.
"No, no, no, no…" he moans brokenly. His hands run through his hair jaggedly and he grips it, crouching to the ground with a pained, almost tortured expression on his face.
Alice watches sadly, anxiously. She doesn't want to see her brother suffering so badly. She wants to fix it. But how? A century seems to pass as she takes in his broken body, the lines around his eyes that don't exist, the tears that can't possibly be streaming down his face. What feels like a heart clenches in her chest. She presses her hand to it with a gasp; still cold and dead.
Lead him to her, a shadow in her mind whispers. It is that misty precognition, guiding her; but in what direction?
Edward seems not to hear her, too lost in his misery to be in touch with the outside world.
She'll kill him, she thinks. Her eyes close and she sees before her a pulsating orange yellow cloud, like sea spray under industrial lamps at night; ancient nature meeting modern human progress.
No, it whispers, lead him to her. This is the only way.
She nods solemnly and turns to Edward, screaming at him through her thoughts, desperate to break through his mental barrier.
Follow me! Follow me to her!
He shakes his head slowly as he breaks the surface of his agony.
"No. I can't…" he groans. Alice is desperate, he has to listen. He has to snap out of it.
There is only one way to get him to listen.
"Fine," her tone is cold, emotionless, "she is a danger to you and I will not let you be hurt. I will kill her." She turns fast and runs in Bella's direction, hoping that it snaps him out of it. She keeps her mind blank as he howls behind her and races after.
"DON'T TOUCH HER!" He bellows, unrestrained rage coloring his tone. The treetops shake with his roar and Alice shivers.
She has to reach Bella before Edward reaches her.
She runs faster and faster, the sound of her breath aiding her. Move, move, move. Left, right, left, right.
This is the only way.
~Bella~
She sits, cross legged, in the clearing. Her head tips back and her eyes take in the moon's watery beams. The leaves on the trees make a swishing sound, and the stars twinkle beguilingly. She breathes in deeply. All is peaceful.
Then, like a boulder thrown into a glass-surfaced lake, the smooth beauty shifts and shatters.
She whips her head around to the disturbance and sniffs. Two vampires, heading her way. One is Victoria, the other is…. Tangerines and vanilla, bronze hair and soft breezes flirting with a stone wall…
Edward.
She leaps to her feet and growls low in her throat. She waits as the tangerine scent gets stronger, stronger.
One, two, three-
Victoria breaks through the trees, her black hair creating a dark streak against the brown bark. She rushes past Bella and disappears to the other side of the clearing. But Bella does not care.
Because suddenly she's looking at him.
He freezes past the tree line and his sight zeroes in on her. His jaw is slack, his eyes wide. He moves a tentative step forward into the moonlight. His bronze hair is wild and mussed. His broad shoulders and slim hips set her body tingling. He is so beautiful, so perfect; but she knows that already. He puts Adonis to shame in outward beauty, but his insides are that of the immortal gods- selfish and cruel. She knows this, and still, she can't help but feel that tugging sensation in her empty chest at the sight of him
He stares at her like she is the sun and he a man seeing it for the first time. His eyes drift down her body, physically brushing against her in their intensity. His eyes burn, they make her burn. She is unnerved by the feeling of flames licking up and down her spine, so she growls. His eyes snap up to her and she waits for the rubies to salute her. But, to her utter surprise, she finds that his eyes have changed. They're no longer painted in her blood.
They're golden.
She locks into place, her body numb with shock.
Golden… animal drinker…
She watches in shock as he takes another step. His eyes unnerve her; they shine like a cat's at night. He whispers, no louder than the whooshing trees, but it seems to echo through the clearing like a sonic boom.
"Isabella." One word. Her name. And that's all it takes.
She leaps.
~Edward~
Under the moonlight stands his beautiful Isabella. Is he dreaming? No, he can't be. He couldn't dream of this, couldn't come up with this kind of clarity in his most lucid fantasies.
And never in his mind would he be able to bestow the gentle angel he'd built her up to be with the fury shining through her demon eyes.
She is beautifully deadly, deadly beautiful. Her mahogany hair seems richer, fuller, softer, and somehow sharper. The cheekbones are no longer soft but defined; the eyes have a feline tilt to them. Her neck is still long and slender, but the light glints off of it like the blade on a sword. Her lips are a dark, cherry dipped red. He has the insane urge to spread blood across the plump, bottom one just to see if the colors are the same.
Then he has the even crazier urge to lick, nibble, and suck on said lip.
His breath comes faster as his eyes slowly descend. The same slim shoulders he remembers, but with strength to them that belies invincibility. The soft arms are now muscular, the collarbones a swift swipe across a canvas. Her breasts scream that she is a woman and her trim waist seductively whispers in his ear, urging him to grab ahold and slide his hands along the hourglass curves. The rounded hips lead to long, endless, creamy legs. His mouth waters as they go on, and on, and on…
He feels warm, hot even. If he were human he'd be flushing and sweating. The vampire before him oozes sensuality. She is a masterpiece created by the devil himself, her only duty in life being to tempt. She falls from her pedestal; her wings turn an inky, night kissed, velvety black.
She is no longer an angel. And yet, he feels like he couldn't want to own her more.
Body, blood, and soul.
He hears a low growl that sends a shiver down his spine and his eyes shoot back up to her face. He locks in on her fury and with a start sees that her eyes are red.
Red like his used to be.
He suddenly feels sick; he'd just been staring at her like she was a piece of meat. Her, the one he'd practically murdered those many years ago. But at that moment, it still feels like he is holding her for the first time, under the sun, not the moon. His Isabella; his penance and punishment.
His fallen angel.
And he knows that he has to tell her, tell her or die. Words bubble in his throat, apologies and declarations. Exclamations, pleading, velvety words that might bring her closer. Anything, everything, it slides up like a rock and tumbles into his waiting mouth. He takes a step towards her, gravity latching onto him and desperation begging him to gain mercy and deliverance.
But his lips are only able to form one word- her name.
"Isabella."
She stills. Then she leaps.
All her muscles are tensed and she is on him in a flash. He is frozen as she glides towards him, ethereal and dangerous. She collides with his body, stone on stone. He falls back and grits his teeth. A savage sound rips out of her chest and wakes him from his trance.
If she kills him he won't be able to apologize.
Her fangs snap at his throat but he grabs her by the neck and holds her off. She squirms and straddles him, grabbing onto his shoulders and digging in her nails. He holds her back with all his strength and flips them over so that he is over her and still holding her off.
She is in a fury, savage, her eyes nearly shooting him dead. He ignores the instincts telling him to leap away, giving in to his weakness and maintaining body contact. She bucks up against him, trying to throw him off.
He groans, disgusted with how good it feels to have her so close to him.
Suddenly, she stills. Her eyes become heavy and her arms fall back against the ground. He suddenly realizes he is straddling her, his hands gripping her wrists above her flowing hair. He feels a sharp tug in his stomach.
Those plump, delicious lips curl into a seductive smile.
"Edward…" his name in that breathy voice nearly makes him burst into flames. Her scent surrounds them; strawberries and chocolate. He leans closer, eyes zeroed in on the mesmerizing lips.
Then, faster than a heartbeat, he's on his back again and she is above him, grinning down salaciously.
"Fool." She breathes, and he knows that he's done. He looks into her eyes as her hands wrap around his neck. He watches the crimson swirls and feels pressure, steadily increasing. He is limp, pleading. Hoping she can see just how much regret he is holding inside.
They say eyes are the window to the soul. Now, let's just hope I have one.
The pressure is painful, he can feel bones and muscles straining. He stays relaxed, basking in her silent mind, treasuring the feeling of her skin on his.
What a way to go.
Then, without warning, the pressure stops. The crimson eyes are confused, frantic. He watches as she stares at her hands in a betrayed manner and attempts to tighten them. The pressure is nonexistent; her grip remains slack.
She lifts her fingers and stares down at them in horror. Then she glares at Edward, like it's somehow his fault.
He breaks out of his self induced calm and leaps up, grabbing her arms and bringing her with him. She yelps and tenses, expecting him to throw her or shove her down. Instead, he pulls her close to him, wraps his arms around her, and burrows his nose into her soft, soft hair. He breathes in steadily, his arms tightening around her as if trying to absorb her into his body.
Their figures are perfectly aligned; she stands stock still.
He's never felt more complete.
Then, not able to resist temptation, he tilts her head up to his and meets her confused, livid, miserable gaze. He leans his forward against hers; his lips brush hers lightly. Her eyes are wide like a deer's, terrified and apprehensive.
He breathes in her sweet, panting breath as she slowly and reluctantly relaxes.
"I'm so, so sorry Isabella." He whispers against her lips, the skin softer and sweeter than rose petals.
She tenses up again and rips away from him, bringing his phantom heart with her.
He cries out as she stands just out of reach. But then all is forgotten as his eyes meet hers once again.
They are filled with a pain so great no words could describe it. He flinches. How can he make it better? He doesn't even dwell on the fact that she'd been trying to kill him only a minute or two earlier as he panics to find a way to comfort her and ease her hurt.
Their eyes stay connected, gold to maroon, and the air starts to crackle with electricity. Confusion clouds the pain and she shakes her head, breaking the connection. She turns to go.
"Wait!" He steps forward, arm outstretched, and he longs for her body to be against his once more. For her lips and her eyes and the peace he'd once seen in their brown depths.
"Isabella…" She stops at his voice. She whispers softly.
"It's Bella now. Isabella is dead, remember?"
A sharp pain hits him, like being stabbed with lightning.
"You killed her." She disappears into the forest. He collapses behind her.
I know.
The knife twists deep inside.
Oooo, we got us some chemistry!