Fuck, I can only apologise. Shit comes before fanfiction, it seems. Sorry. This was all I could get out without taking much longer.

Strength

I have no strength.

My wasted heart loves him still, but it has no strength.

I feel like falling to my knees in front of him and clutching to his body, having him envelop me in his smell. I see his hair in my mind, bronze and whipped by the wind. My power of speech escapes me as he smiles. When he leaves his coat, I take it and bury my face, inhaling his scent as if it was my oxygen. Sometimes I start to cry and stain the material darker, forcing me to put it back on his hanger and move on.

He comes into my bedroom often, although he still knocks, but I don't want to decide whether he has fun with me. I feel too inferior to make that decision. I sit on his bed when he plays the piano and watch his back moving with the music, but he never seems affected when he finishes a piece. He's always there, smiling. It seems he only plays for me.

Edward hugs me now, every time he leaves the house without me. I want to cling on, but more often than not, it is me who painfully pulls away first and is left exposed to his face. After he leaves, I slump onto the sofa and throw my head back, exhausted.

I want to talk to him again, but he is busy most of the time. We watch television together, beers in hand, arms touching as the sofa sinks in the middle, but he falls asleep, sometimes on my shoulder. I'm selfish, rubbed raw from his touch, but I let him keep the weight on my shoulder, branding me almost gluttonous and not waking up until the last possible moments. He drags his feet to his bedroom. Sometimes I almost follow him, stopping myself at his door. He never closes it when I'm outside. I'm left standing, watching as he slides into bed with not as much as a goodbye. It feels like I'm rejecting him.

I ache for Edward. My days are spent wallowing in my sorrow as the bruises inflicted upon my heart turn to yellow. I watch as he and Bella go to the canteen, go to his car, go to their next lesson. But I'm with him at home. With his body restored, it's good to see him once more.

I move around my room, unconsciously walking. My eyes are in despair, unfocused as I think of him with his skin and his cheeks. He returns late tonight.

A ring stops me. Someone is at the door.

Through my tear-stained cheeks, I wonder whether to open it. But the visitor is insistent with their ringing, and soon, I can't take it anymore and throw the door open.

Maria stands, uncomfortable and cold, clad in only a wispy dress. The fabric whips at her body and her skin is uneven and rough from the cold. She smiles crookedly.

"Jasper." Her breath drips with alcohol, and along with an expression of lust painted awkwardly on her innocent face, I can tell she's drunk. I wipe away my tears and marvel.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask, perplexed. She smiles once more, and her long finger reaches out to my cheek, soaking my tears.

"Maybe you can tell me," and with that, she brushes past me, her breasts on my chest, until I'm against the door frame.

"Maria," I warn. She places a finger on my lips and tells me to be quiet. Her eyes meet mine, pupils wide and soft, while she kisses me softly. Her lips are brutally dry and cracked from the wind, but they mould to mine and I can't help but follow. She moves me slowly from the door, shutting it, still touching me. My mind is too confused for me to think properly, and suddenly, I feel like I'm back, my body is back, like it was before I met Edward. There are no consequences, or at least I don't think of them. I can just feel her flesh and nothing else at all.

When we reach the bedroom, she pushes me away, leaving me feeling naked. I wait for the emotion to crawl back in, the consequences to make themselves known, but then I see Maria's sultry expression still present. She turns her head so she's watching her shoulder, stretching her neck. The dim light highlights the shadows on her body. She would be so beautiful to draw in this moment.

Her eyes dart to my figure before becoming downcast again as she runs her hands down her shoulders, pushing away the delicate strap of her dress. It floats silently to the floor around her legs. I swallow my guilt away.

She is uncovered in front of me, bare flesh for me to see. I watch her curves, and I realise that she's not Edward. I needed something more structured, angular. And just as I'm about to stop, bring a halt to everything and realise I'm making a mistake, Maria walks towards me and passionately kisses me, her hand running through my hair, lifting everything inside me as she presses me against the wall. My stomach clenches. I start crying.

"Jasper," she whispers, her hand flush against my cheek, eyes painfully sincere. I don't kiss her back; instead, she moves slowly to me again. And then I'm lost.

I fall over the edge. I let Maria lead me, unaware of what I'm doing. Slow, slurred actions pass me by as my eyes close and my head tilts back. Maria's kisses are numb- I'm not sure if they're even Maria's anymore. I try to imagine Edward, try to feel his skin on my skin, but it is nowhere near the same. Drenched in denial, I slumber around in my sorrow as she takes me. My movements dwindle as my hands blindly touch Maria anywhere, uncaring, unknowing of my strength. Her moans spur me on and tense my muscles, they make me angry and there's less restraint keeping me back down. I clench my teeth together, stretching out and then burying my head on Maria's neck. She pants; I feel her breasts on my chests as she clenches her arms around me. Her skin is powdery and smells like a woman- I take her smell in, unconsciously. My eyes close as the tears start, staining her skin. I heave myself from her, completely aware of my actions, my chest rising. I can see his face, his beautiful face in my mind. I see his back as he walked away, cold and hard to my vision, and I feel alone. His smell is insistent and I start to sob heavily; I can feel my face collapsing, my heart collapsing as the guilt drowns me. I can't shake the tumour from my throat. It's hard to breathe. I hardly notice Maria's attempts to comfort me. I've ruined my home, I can see it crumble to the ground, and I turn my back on Maria, curling up pathetically until my body is still and the day is aged, until Maria is nothing more than a sinister silhouette behind me.

******

She's still here the next morning, her breasts warm and soft against my back. Alive. My chest is hollow, without breath, as I prise myself away from her. Maria stirs, rubbing her head on my pillow.

No!

My neck tenses. I want to growl at her, tell her to stop- she'll rub away Edward's scent, but I manage to stop myself. It's useless anyway; she wakes, eyes opening under ruffled hair, and I can see the hurt inside her mind as I stand, naked and exposed in front of her. She smiles at me, but it's false.

"I'm going to go Jasper." I nod. She stands, graceful in her movements, and picks up her clothes. She does not bother to wash her face. I follow her to the door, where she turns and kisses me once more, soft and true on the lips, before she turns her back. My eyes follow her until I can no longer see her. I see the whites of Edward's eyes. They penetrate through me.

I watch the horizon before I walk in, the cold wind kissing my neck.