The deepest scars are not the ones we can see... One-shot
The deepest scars are not the ones we can see, as Bella tells us...
1. Chapter 1
Rating 5/5 Word Count 523 Review this Chapter
Scars define people. They say what they have done, or done wrong. If they were hurt, or hurting. Or if they are deathly clumsy (I fall into this choice). It's almost impossible to tell whether or not the scars are accidental or self-inflicted. Not all scars are visible though. What I am talking about is not scars on the inside of the body... per se. I'm talking about scars on and in the heart. The deepest scars are not the ones that we can see.
I have scars everywhere. My head, my arms, my legs. But I have one scar unlike all the others. The one on my hand. The imprint of James' teeth on my hand until the end of time. I shudder every time I look at it. It reminds me of the fire of vampire venom. Which I have only experienced once in my life, but will again soon. But this time it will be Edward's venom, then I will belong to him in a quantifiable way.
Of course Edward is still fighting against me becoming a vampire, but it doesn't sway me at all. It is necessary for my survival in the long term as much as it is in the short term. The Volturi still want me to become a vampire... or die. Aro would prefer the the first, while Caius prefers the latter. Marcus is totally apathetic. Many of the Volturi would love to see my destruction, and the destruction of my soon-to-be-family. I am not going to allow Edward to put himself in that kind of danger if I can help it. And I can help it. I will marry him and he will have to keep his promise, our compromise.
Our compromise still stands. I am about to marry him and then he will change me, and we'll be together forever. For eternity.
Yet, there is still one scar that I do not want to ever feel opened again. The one on my heart. The one that was caused by my love, Edward.
He still hates himself for what he did to me, even though I forgave him. I forgave him as soon as he had said "goodbye". How could I not? He is my savior, my love, how could I not forgive him for something that was to be for my own good. Even if it didn't end up as he had wished. I am glad that it didn't end up as he had intended. I shudder at the thought of a life without him. No, I writhe in agony at the thought.
To live a life without him was unbearable. To not see his smile, to meet his kiss, to not feel his love...
That would not just tear that scar open, it would rip a new one.
Scars define people, but they also change them. I was changed. I am changed, permanently. The one scar on my hand may not fade with time, but the one on my heart will. With his love and devotion coupled with mine, it shall be gone... eventually.