Pairing: Paul/Bella
Rating: M
Genre: Tragedy
Words: 500
Prompt: Young Summer - Waves that rolled you under
Disclaimer: Just a reminder that SM owns Twilight!
Shattered
Paul wakes up with her straddling his lap. The scarf was wrapped around her balding tiny head. He remembers the day she was crying in the bathroom as her beautiful mahogany locks covered the bathroom sink. Her doctor told them to be aware of the possibility. Unable to handle her tears, Paul retrieved some clippers from under the sink and he shaved his head right next to her. With a soft smile, Bella accepted him removing the rest of her hair so she wouldn't have to see it fall out.
Later the same night he made passionate love to her in hopes she would feel every ounce of love he held for her. He held her as she cried herself to sleep. There were no words he could say to ease her mind, so he just held her against his chest, letting her hear his heart beat for her. Their love was built on bad times and good, but she never left, no matter how hard their pack life became. She wasn't an imprint, she had no obligation to be with him, she simply loved him.
The day he realized how much Bella meant to him, it felt like waves pulling him down into the undertow. It hurt how much he loved her. His chest was full and he never thought it would swell even more, but every day with her made his heart that much bigger, his life that much happier. She meant everything to him, his whole world and fuck what the imprint gods had to say about it.
"I know I'm not beautiful anymore, Paul, but just close your eyes and pretend it's me. The beautiful version," she whispers with a kiss and slips herself onto him.
How could she ever think she wasn't beautiful? Why could she never see what he saw? She was the most beautiful woman alive. Her skin was flawless in its perfection; her deep brown eyes held the answers to the universe; her heart and its capacity to love, fully, always amazed him. God, how he loved her with everything he was.
And he shows her, as he keeps his eyes open, refusing to see the sockets around her sunken eyes or the weightless body on top of him. There was only her, them together as they should be. They reach the plateau of bliss as she slumps onto his chest. He holds her tight and only when he feels her breath even out does he let the silent tears escape their carefully constructed prison. She needs his strength, not his weakness.
Paul wakes a few hours later to the rapidly cooling body lying on top of him. He absently reaches for the sheet, pulling it over them both as he closes his eyes for a beat before he realizes what was off and woke him up. The absence of her heart beating over his. Nothing but emptiness drowning in silence. His arms wrap around the frail, limp body of his Bella.