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La Tua Cantate

Summary:
Bella has never killed another human being. Fate be damned; she doesn't intend on starting now.
She meets her singer on the streets of New York. (Edward/Bella)


Notes:
I had a thought - what would happen if Bella found her singer after she became a vampire? What kind of person would she (because I'm convinced it would be a girl) be? And what would stop her from killing her? Thank you to cinnamon_kisses for the read through <3


1. La Tua Cantante

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1232   Review this Chapter

She meets her singer on the streets of New York.

It has been fifty years since she's been changed, and she walks through the crowd of humans, hand held in Edward's, smiling up at the cloudy sky she can see through the trees in Central Park. She is all but immune to the smell of their skin, their blood, their very being.

She ignores the stares they recieve as they pass others by - she is used to them by now. Edward whispers in her ear, and she smiles. Sometimes - very rarely, but sometimes she wishes she were still able to blush. He still has the same effect on her he always has, and his breath on her neck sends pleasant tingles down her spine. She shivers. He chuckles and pulls her deeper into the throng.

Alice is up ahead, but she's too far for Bella to catch the sudden look of horror on her face; Edward is too distracted to pay any attention to his sister's thoughts, or the way she rushes towards them, against the rush of humanity.

Bella looks up at the sound of her name, confused.

Then, she sees her.

The girl is a teenager, brown hair, brown eyes shining, despite the lack of sunlight. She is tall, slender. She is with a group of friends.

And her smell is absolutely intoxicating.

Her blood is like a siren's song, calling her from her spot across the street to grab her, take her, sink her teeth into her lily-white neck. Alice is getting closer now, and Edward is tugging at her hand, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her throat is burning. She takes a step forward.

Then, she wrenches her hand from Edward's grasp and runs the other way, not caring that someone may have noticed how she's just become a blur on the air.

---

They joke with her about her singer being a girl.

Bella sits at their living room window, arms curled around her knees, staring out at a world bathed in sunlight. Her hand catches a sunbeam and throws sparkles about the room. She tucks her arm down against her side.

The jeers and laughter of her siblings continue, and although she knows they are just trying to make her feel better, she doesn't want to hear them.

Eventually, Esme hushes all of them, and she hears the sound of footsteps sliding along the carpet as the room empties out. Even Edward knows she simply needs her space. Yet, he still voices his concern in hushed whispers and quiet tones - sometimes, she wonders if, even after fifty years, he forgets that she has superhuman hearing, too.

"New York is a big city, Edward," Bella hears Carlisle tell him. "There's a very small chance that she'll ever meet this girl again."

"New York may be a big city, but its a small world," Edward counters. "Especially when fate decides to intervene."

Contrary to what everyone thought (or maybe because of it), as a newborn, Bella was able to keep herself under control. Her record is even cleaner than Rosalie's. She has never killed another human being.

Fate be damned; she doesn't intend on starting now.

---

Fate is fickle, wicked, and devious, Bella decides as she stands frozen in a mall bookshop.

Edward has gone with Carlisle on a business trip out of town, and Alice wanted to take advantage of the rain and go shopping.

Alice takes advantage of the sales to buy herself an entire new wardrobe, while Bella makes her way to the bookstore for some peace and quiet.

She is standing among the Classic Fiction when she smells her. Bella freezes, the book in her hands crumbling under the strength of her fingers. She turns her head slowly.

There, at the end of the aisle, is the girl with the long brown hair and the brown eyes and the intoxicating scent. She wonders where Alice is, wonders why she's moving towards the girl instead of away - she knows better.

New York is a big city, she thinks, but Edward was right - the world is small when fate decides to intervene.

There are too many people, too many witnesses, too many reasons for her to turn around and walk away, but this girl and her maddening scent are driving all of these reasons from her mind.

The girl brushes her hair over her shoulder, drops a book, sending her scent in Bella's direction, and she can barely contain herself.

Then, she catches the title of the book on the ground, and suddenly, everything makes a twisted sort of sense.

Fate is not only devious, she thinks as she bends down to pick up the book - she has a warped sense of humor.

"You dropped this," Bella whispers, lips barely moving.

The girl turns around and eyes her furtively - her eyes are wild, she isn't breathing - what must she think? "Thanks," she says quietly, then edges around the corner of the shelves and out of sight. Bella waits until her footsteps are muffled towards the back of the store before she flees.

---

"How did you do it?"

Edward is sitting on their bed, eyes closed, the sound of Debussy soft in the backgound. He only opens his eyes when she speaks.

"Do what?"

Bella takes a deep breath. "Not kill me."

Edward freezes, then sits up so quickly, had she still been human, she would have missed the movement completely. "What happened?"

"The city is small when fate intervenes." She smiles wryly at the look of shock on his face and sits down next to him, one leg tucked under her. "I think sometimes you forget that my hearing is as good as everyone else in the house." Her tone is not condescending or accusing - she is merely stating a fact.

"I don't mean to," he whispers.

Bella places her hand on his cheek. "I know." She shakes her head. "I still don't know how you did it."

"Bella, I loved you - even before I understood what I was feeling, I loved you."

"Not on that first day, you didn't. I was just some other human with one interesting quirk - my mind was closed off to you, and it drove you crazy."

"It still drives me crazy," he sighs, then leans in to kiss her neck and whisper in her ear, "You drive me crazy."

Her breath hitches as his hands slide under her shirt to trace patterns along her skin. "Feeling's mutual." He chuckles.

"I didn't kill her... if you're wondering."

"I know," he says, and before she can ask how, he sweeps a finger across her forehead, down near her eyebrows. "Your eyes," he explains.

"Do you know why I didn't kill her?" She asks, shifting so that she is straddling his legs, facing him, sitting entirely in his lap. She kisses him, and he wraps his arms around her back, pulling her closer.

"Conscience," he gasps between kisses. But she shakes her head.

"Do you know what book she was reading?"

The question seems to come out of the blue, and Edward pauses, his brow furrowed.

Bella smiles and runs her hand down his cheek. "Wuthering Heights."