.

"He never gave himself away. He never gave anything away. He just...left you a tip."

- Jedediah

June 11, 2010

Bella

I carefully twist my hair into an updo, leaving a few strands to frame my face.

Once I'm satisfied with the loose curls, I start to dig through my makeup collection. Since my routine is so simple, it doesn't take long to apply the fistful of cosmetics.

Foundation, eye shadow, powder, mascara...

I'm still hopeless with eyeliner. And my natural blush is embarrassingly adequate.

I put on lipstick instead of lip gloss, even though it doesn't feel right.

Stepping back, I examine my handiwork. Blank, brown eyes stare back at me in the mirror, taking in my foreign appearance.

The color on my lips is beautiful, but noticing the discomfort makes me feel like less of a grown-up...like I'm just raiding my mother's makeup bag.

The comparison is sobering.

My finger hovers over my mouth, poised to mar the pigment.

Maybe I should remove it. Maybe other people will see through my act. But even if I don't feel mature and distinguished, I at least want to look the part.

The threatening finger drops, foiled by my newest reasoning.

It doesn't matter if I'm slightly uncomfortable; I just need to look acceptable for Edward's sake.

I take deep breaths as I return my makeup to its drawer, the action taking longer than it should.

My entire body feels heavier. And on top of that, I'm now annoyed that I'm letting a silly thing like lipstick dampen my excitement.

This is supposed to be a fun night. I get to share this with Edward, and the show will hopefully inspire some ideas for my own project.

I know he will think I look beautiful, and that's all that should matter. But I can't forget the snide looks and comments I received during our engagement. Even if Edward said most of the criticizers were practically strangers...

My gaze absentmindedly moves to the counter. The clock mocks me with its brightly displayed time.

It's almost time to go. I can't think about this right now.

Determined to clear my mind, I turn away from the bathroom, heading for our closet.

Edward will be home soon. I need to find my shoes.

July 20, 2010

Bella

"Can I ask you something?" my abductor says, tossing our empty tuna cans into the trash.

It's a stupid question. He's going to ask, regardless. And if he really wanted to, he could probably force me to answer.

Even so, I nod.

He sits back down at the seat across from me, looking solely at my expression.

I carelessly run my fingers over the tabletop, decorating my glossy nails with tiny scratches. Throughout this unremarkable display, his eyes remain alight with genuine curiosity.

"Why were you crying when I found you?"

I blink at the invasiveness, wondering why he'd even care. With torn hesitation, I finally decide to say nothing. Even if he gets angry, I can't let him know that I'm not exactly prime hostage material.

If he finds out, he might get rid of me. So I shouldn't throw off his plan...if he even has a plan.

Maybe he's waiting a few days to contact Edward in order to give him time to worry. I don't know. I don't even watch stupid crime shows...

I tilt my head up, meeting his stare again.

His face is expectant, waiting for an answer that will never come. The determined gaze feels like tiny caterpillars crawling across my skin, but I don't bite. I lack the energy needed to make up a story.

Without counting my unexplained head injury, he hasn't been violent so far. I just have to hope this doesn't change.

I struggle to remain brave as our impromptu staring contest continues. But as my rebellious silence drags on, his innocent curiosity starts to be overshadowed by something darker, more predatory.

An instinct to prey on the weak.

"You and the husband have a fight?" he goads, almost smiling. "Let me guess - about who does the dishes when the maid is out?"

Despite the malicious intent, his sarcasm isn't what's painful. It's the fact that the term "husband" has an expiration date.

I shrug my shoulders, not wanting him to know that his words stung. Regardless of his insistence, it doesn't seem like he even cares about the answer. He just wants to hurt me.

"It was nothing. I just cry a lot."

I frown, feeling a little disgusted when I realize the last part of my answer isn't a lie.

I wasn't always like this.

He gives me a pitying look, and it doesn't even seem cruel.

"Cullen's a jerk. I'm not surprised."

My eyes narrow instinctively. While I've assumed that Edward's money must be involved, this is the first time he's been mentioned in conversation. I don't like it.

"He's not a jerk," I defend, not bothering to hide my anger. It's infuriating to hear him be called that by such a lowlife.

"Actually, he is," he corrects casually, not sounding surprised by my indignation. "Endless women, drinking in totally inappropriate places, trying to buy everything and everyone..."

He wordlessly waves his hand at me, not needing to explain the gesture.

"He didn't buy me. I love him." My throat tightens against my will, barely getting the words out. He isn't the first person to bring this up, but it's a lot harder to defend our relationship now that it's ending.

I falter for a moment, his other words suddenly coming back to mind. The fact that he mentioned drinking is even more jarring than the "endless women." That makes no sense. Plus, how would he even know about it?

"And Edward hardly ever drinks. I don't know what you're talking about." Even as I glare at him, my voice is unsteady.

He shakes his head, his pity increasing dramatically.

"I never said you didn't love him. That's why I feel so sorry for you."

I freeze up as his admittance sinks in, not knowing what to make of it. My unease only increases as gray eyes follow me closely, examining every facet of my response.

For a few seconds, I worry that he knows we're no longer together. But when I think of his earlier words, he seems clueless. Unless he's just messing with me...

His sighed empathy disrupts my frantic thoughts.

"But I guess it was never really a choice, was it?"

I don't reply, but this doesn't seem to bother him. With one last glance at my restraints, he walks away, having answered his own question.

A/N:

Thanks to What The Fun and to everyone who reviewed. Also, special thanks to ViolaOphelia. Her New Moon AU, Whatever is Left of Me, is on my favorites list. Check it out if you're craving some great angst.

xoxo