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Never Let Go (The Fog)


(Previously The Fog) My heart stopped, the world stopped, and then in a rush it flooded back. My mind buzzed with thoughts as I ran as fast as I could, knowing I was too late. I could smell it too now. My nostrils flared and my knees buckled underneath me, an all too human feeling. My breathing coming in frantic sobs, I finally made it. I threw myself at the heat, like a sacrifice on the altar. I roared against the flames against the voice in my head. But the velvet couldn’t be drowned out, “Bella, What if I can’t save you? What if I’m the super-hero and the bad guy?” I screeched in defiance at the flames. My body wouldn’t stand the inferno much longer, but I didn’t leave. Then I saw it, my proof, and I finally allowed the strong cool hands to pull me from the fire. After the wedding and Bella’s change Edward and Isabella are looking forward to their happily-ever-after, forever. But fate doesn’t like to be predictable. Full of never ending questions, intense suspense, and drama The Fog definitely questions the picture-perfectness of Breaking Dawn. "I love it!" "This is a fantastic story..." "intense" "well written..." “I’m waiting for an update on the edge of my chair!”

enjoy. the begining is a little slow but it picks up well, or so i'm told! i would love constructive reviews!

3. Breakfast

Rating 0/5   Word Count 507   Review this Chapter

"Bella!" Edward growled, slightly amused. Oops. What can I say? Edward can be a little distracting. He had painted a hilarious picture: a beautiful vampire slightly hunched over the stove and growling at an uncooperative egg which had broken when he tried to flip it over. Well, there was at least one thing I was better at than him...for now.

"I'm sorry; let me get that for you." While staring at Edward I had been blending the pancake mix. When I lifted the old-style blender too high the whisks had sent the batter flying; splattering across Edward's back and neck.

I grabbed a nearby kitchen towel and flicked it under the faucet before briskly rubbing away the white spots on his black tee. Then I reached up on tiptoe and kissed off the speckles on his ice-cold neck.

"Mmm," Edward murmured turning around to face me. I put my arms around his hips and pulled him in as he began to twist the tips of my long hair in his fingers. Edward swooped down to kiss me but pulled away quickly.

"Bella, you taste weird," Edward complained.

"Like this?" I asked, dipping my finger in the pancake mix and letting him suck it off my finger.

"Yes, you taste like blueberry pancakes. Have you been eating it? I hope it goes away soon. You taste much better au natural, very sweet."

I laughed lightly but stopped when I heard the Farleigh home phone ring across the room. Is that for us? Oh, the Cullens. Of course they would know this number.

Edward crossed the room in a couple quick strides picking up the phone and letting out a rapid string of words starting out with ‘Yes?' What followed was a very confusing conversation that was apparently slightly embarrassing for Edward.

"Of course...No, nothing...She's fine...amazing...Emmett!...Yes, thank you...today...I don't know...We will call, we love you. Bye."

"Who was that?"

"Carslisle, and Emmett,...and my mother."

"And? What did they say?"

Edward looked up at me sheepishly from under his lashes and then chuckled lightly.

"Well, Carlisle and Esme wanted to make sure that you were, well - alive. Emmett offered some, uhm, ideas. Carslisle also asked if I had found our wedding present and when we would be home.


After breakfast and a swim in the pool Edward told me to change and pack my clothes, we would be leaving. It turned out that the Cullens had bought Edward and I an airplane as our wedding present, and Edward, who could fly, of course, would be flying us around the world for our honeymoon. I didn't know it then but I would come to regret flying to France, maybe if we had skipped that last stop...? Or maybe it was fate; maybe we were star-crossed the whole time. All I know is that he waited there and I would give anything to have never crossed paths with him, to keep it from ending like this. I miss my love.