A scene of Bella during her 'zombie' period. I always wondered how Christmas was like in Forks, and then I realised that it was during December when only the months were featured in the book - so, this was how it sprang to mind. Written for Twilight Tables .
Hope you like!
1. Chapter 1
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Usually I did not think about such things – such painful things that were of the past. But tonight, the 24th of December, I felt that I had earned myself the right. I had, after all, managed – miraculously – to survive all these months without him.
With the copious amounts of snow falling from the sky, I felt sufficiently cold – and numb. You know how it is before you undergo a painful surgery they’d drug you with painkillers? It was like that for me. I wanted, no, needed it to be cold enough; cold enough to bite me so I could be sure that I was still alive, cold enough to numb my heart against the agony and I did not have to feel anything.
It was only then I felt it was safe enough to think of him. What would it be like to feel his arms around me again? It was so long ago I could barely imagine the faintest touch of his cool fingers on my arm. Even then, I’d imagine it to be heaven. Just the feel of his skin against my own – heaven; and no other words can describe it aptly enough.
I imagined what he’d look like standing against the snowy backdrop of my window. Bronze hair dotted with tiny flecks of snow, the slight breeze dancing through his hair, his golden eyes glowing amidst the silver glare of the snow, the epitome of perfection.
He would give me his crooked grin, and it would be warm enough to melt the ice outside – and inside my heart. “Merry Christmas,” he would say, his voice as soft and inviting as velvet, the warm tone running across me like honey. His eyes would shine with an inner light, the brilliant facets of it melting me, leaving me spellbound and dizzy, lost in the golden fairy dust of his eyes.
Slowly, he would walk over to me, his footsteps making no sound on the floorboards at all. His arms would open wide and he would take me in them. I would relish the feel of his arms against me, the sweetness of his scent as I press my cheek to his chest, the warmth from me melting into his unnaturally chilly temperature.
And then he would murmur into my ear, just how much he loved me, how cherished I was to him, how dear…
I opened my eyes to the dark room. Everything was all as it should be, but no one was there. No bronze-haired Adonis wishing me a Happy Christmas.
Maybe that was why he left. What would the swan want the ugly duckling? Why would Adonis want a poor slave girl when he could have an Aphrodite? He had long realised this, and I, the slow, dim-witted fool that I was did not know until now. I did not deserve him, and that was a fact.
I could feel my heart slowly tearing and I took several deep-gasping breaths, blanking my mind out for a few moments. The agony slowly iced over, but I still could feel the sting of it.
I loved him, there was no doubt about it – and for that I had to let him go. If he could only be happy without me, then so be it – my suffering did not matter, and only his happiness did.
A shadow flitted across the window and without thinking, I ran towards it with his name shaped upon my lips.
There was no one.
Have you ever felt what it is like to be torn, to be slowly shredded apart?
I know I have.