you're exactly my brand of heroin
There was snow everywhere, but Bella was wearing sunglasses. They weren't hers, either, these were the wider framed glasses that would belong to a man. She had taken them from beside the bed where Edward had folded them the other day - he had pretended to sleep and even though Bella's body no longer required rest she still gave in to the human habit of closing her eyes and drifting into dreams. He was indulgent enough of her, too, to not tease her too much about it, and he had wrapped an arm across her waist It had been a pleasant way for her to wake up.
Now, though, she was laughing.
"They look better on you," she said, perching the sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. Edward still looked the same to her even though when she had been human he would have been tinted a different color. "But I think I'll hang onto them for awhile."
Outside she didn't feel the bitter cold, only the familiar chill of Edward's skin. She was sitting on the ground, her legs stretched across his lap, and a moment later she let herself lay back. Her hands folded behind her head and she turned her face upwards toward the sky.
"It's beautiful here," Edward said softly, staring up at the sky. He was reminded of once before when they did this, though the weather was less chill and it was green all around instead of white. Of course, just about everything about Edward's afterlife was shades of winter white on diamond--his skin, Bella's skin, the snow. It was all perfect and pristine, and quite indicative of the differences between the fragile human shell he'd once occupied and the indestructible body he now possessed. Bella was still growing into hers but she was already formidable; the woman had more control than many vampires did in centuries, and she didn't have the luxury of a full coven to protect her.
He pitched his voice low, well below the threshold for mere human hearing, and brushed his lips against Bella's ear.
"I wrote us something. Would you like to hear it?" He didn't wait for a response before starting, lips mumbling against the shell of her ear and voice low and musical with the cadence needed to do the rhyme and meter justice.
"And all that I have ever sought, or needed to know joy;
I spent a lifetime searching for, and a moment to destroy;
And love I thought to capture, and bend it to my will;
Now it's turned to sorrow, before I've had my fill.
But what is joy without sorrow?
What is love without hate?
That which makes the heart leap in joy,
Ethereal and unobtainable, and yet;"
Edward smiled softly, touching her hair.
"If you'd have my heart, and all its desire,
Minds and wills and sorrow, ah!
All go into the fire."
He shrugged, slightly sheepish. "I'm still working on it. You're the first to hear."