Edward looks through Bella's window. He has been gone for six months, two weeks, a day, and five hours. He knows every minute because it hurts so much. All he wanted to do was see her one more time. What happens when he learns what he has done to the only one he will ever love? banner that actually shows up made by the FANtastic iris!
This will switch between Edward's thoughts and Bella's. Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating 4.5/5 Word Count 570 Review this Chapter
The hours ache.
It is not a dull pain, my loneliness. I would not have you think that. It is anything but. Every second burns, yet after a while, the excrutiating instants meld together in a single throbbing mass, like a slowly festering wound, itching and burning around the edges.
I need her.
God, I need her.
Please, God, I need her.
Let me have her.
Let me hold her.
What are you thinking?
Asking for her?
You made a deal. Only if she’s in pain will you return. Do you want her to hurt so much that a monster’s company is the best thing for her?
No! Of course not. Have I not sacrificed a million moments that such an angel might be safe?
Love again, angel.
Angels and monsters have no kinship. What could she want from me?
Yes, whispers the traitor within. Yes, let her writhe. Because then she can be yours, without guilt, without pain knowing she may suffer. Let one month’s agony bring end to your eternity’s worth.
But one instant of her suffering is worth an eon of mine! She is precious, and I am vile. How could I wish even such fleeting harm upon one I love?
I am worse than a monster. I am a traitor.
I have put her in danger, her.
I have admitted I would see her hurt!
What have I done?
That monstrous whisper in my mind speaks again. What new betrayal does it bring?
Nothing. She needs you. Go back now, not in a month.
I will wait.
But, the traitor cries, the pain!
It is for her. I will endure it.
And because not even the traitor dares question the sacrifices I will make for Bella, it is silent. It makes no more protestations, and I am free to slump to the dingy floor. I do not recall standing.
In fact, my memories blanked as I flew from her blessed company.
I am unsure of even what nation I am in.
Not that it matters.
This small attic room is one of hundreds, restless spaces made torture chambers by my presence, made prisons for my hopes, made a sepulcher for my love.
No! Those are the traitor’s words. My love needs no tomb, for it will never die. But the one I love will. And I will follow. I will not damn her to forever. Forever. Without her. Alone, with this agony.
There is only so much pain one can take, in my knowledge. After a while, it simply becomes a fact. It is no longer intolerable. I recall the second day of my transformation, my damnation. I thought at first the torture was over, for a blessed second. Yet my veins still burned. I suppose my body had simply realized the pain was not going to go away. So my mind no longer processed it.
This is not happening now. There is no end in sight, no end even conceivable. This is a very physical anguish, yet even if I were not crumbling within, I would know pain. I am consumed with guilt, for what I’ve done, for my every thought, for my crimes, for the traitor in my mind that will not quiet.
Go back, go back, go back is its mantra.
No, I will not. Do you hear me?
Clearly not, as you do not quiet.
Oh, how I hate you.
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