(no subject)
He could try to give off a hundred reasons, tens of hundreds, millions, for why he was standing there in her bedroom far past midnight, but each would be as indefensible as the next. Each smaller and less sensible and closer to the truth -- that he didn't know where else to be but here and he knew that here was the very last place he should be.
Watching that small, pale, defenseless girl, in her thread bare shirt and holey sweat pants, thrash and mumble to her mother from her dreams. Doing his best not to breathe at all. Trying to figure out how he'd ever thought her average and unnoticeable. Finding the idea of hurting her now even more unbearable than it had been originally simply for himself or his family.
Should he leave again? Could he now?
It would be for the best.
His family wouldn't stop him this time.
There could be a dozen respectable lies -- a early college acceptance, a teenage runaway, visiting relatives, taking a semester aboard.
Edward kept away from her things. The books and cd's and clothes, the clutter of a life being lived. His eyes wandered across them when he could bring himself to look away from her, longing to go closer, to see what filled her mind and made up her passions, but he couldn't. He was already trespassing too far simply standing there.
He had trespassed into every part of her life without her knowing. Nearly her death, having saved her life and now her own bedroom, disgusted with both and yet feeling incapable of the control necessary for to stop any of them. He needed to find a way to leave her. Her bedroom. Her life. Her world. Leave her to those fragile, warm, heart-beat having other people who could have her in their lives.
Without wanting to kill her for simply existing or bringing too much danger into her life.
There was going to be someone, somewhere, some life she was destined for.
It wouldn't be him. It couldn't be him.
How could that hurt so staggeringly?
"Edward."
He'd gone marble still, eyes flashing to her, to the window, and back before she'd finished mumbling his name the second time in her sleep. He couldn't be feather light, it wouldn't even be feasibly possible, yet he felt like he could have been knocked over by the faintest touch. Her voice continued to echo in his thoughts as he shuffled backwards, further away even as the urge to move closer to her bed choked his chest.
"Stay." Bella sighed, into her pillow and the wide fan of her hair. "Don't go. Please...don't go."
He couldn't have moved if he wanted to now. She was dreaming of him; pleading with him not to go in her dream; pleading with him not leave her even as he'd known he must. She was dreaming of him. Isabella Swan was dreaming of him, of not wanting him to leave.
She shifted with another sigh and Edward held his hands tight at his opposing arms. Nothing was ever going to be same. Nothing. It wasn't that Alice could be right. It was that she was. It was that everything about falling in love with her, everything that was just admitting he already was, would be easier than thinking. It was only the struggle against it that made everything a living hell.
After eighty years, his life had finally been altered the same way as his family members.
He did love her. Unequivocally. Irrevocably. He would for the rest of eternity.
Now he'd have to be strong enough to leave her.
He'd have to find the will, the strength.
She deserved her life, didn't she?
Alice had only given them two options even when she'd seen him in love with her.
He would either kill her or she would become one of their kind.
Neither was a feasible situation.
He wouldn't ask Carlisle to take her life, her soul, away.
She deserved better than a half life in shadows.
A world full possibilities, not limitations.
Could there be another way? Could he find a way between Alice's visions? Could he walk the thin wire of staying? Could he stay and love her and still defy both of Alice's inevitable conclusions? Would he strong enough? What had she said that night?
He may be just strong enough not to kill her--but it will be close. It will take an amazing amount of control. More even than Carlisle has. He may be just strong enough....The only thing he's not strong enough to do is stay away from her. That's a lost cause.
She was right. Alice was always right. But she couldn't be right about those two inevitabilities. He'd managed this long to snarl her future up. If he could stay a few steps ahead of her--for how long? Always? Would it divide them the way nothing ever had before as he continued to play havoc with her mind based on his own refusal of her vision? Could he live with that inevitability?
Bella murmured unintelligibly and Edward watched her with dark, conflicted eyes.
He would. He would give anything to save her from the two damning fates that were presently her only option. Even Alice. Even if that thought was paralyzing and shattering different things inside of him as others blossomed bright. He had to save her. There was no other option. He couldn't love her and leave her to either of those endings, and he didn't know if he could find the will power to leave her. Not after the last few hours.
Could he be careful enough? Could he leave her human and be with her?
Edward opened his mouth and took a deep breath.
Then another and another and another.
It was worse than the class room, where there was an air flow and windows, dozens of other innocuous scents lay one upon another as minute distractions from the force of her. Her bedroom held no distraction however minute. It was only her. The perfume of her scent layered heavily on every single inch of it, weeks of being in one place concentrated thick. His head swam, vision blurring without ever actually altering, hands gripping tighter and harder into granite forearms.
He trembled with the fight not to move from where he sat.
Being on fire couldn't have felt this horrible.
Edward continued to take gulping breaths, refusing to stop.
His darkening eyes never left the quietly sleeping face and form of Bella Swan.
If he was going to attempt anything involving her, he would have to get used to this first.
Watching that small, pale, defenseless girl, in her thread bare shirt and holey sweat pants, thrash and mumble to her mother from her dreams. Doing his best not to breathe at all. Trying to figure out how he'd ever thought her average and unnoticeable. Finding the idea of hurting her now even more unbearable than it had been originally simply for himself or his family.
Should he leave again? Could he now?
It would be for the best.
His family wouldn't stop him this time.
There could be a dozen respectable lies -- a early college acceptance, a teenage runaway, visiting relatives, taking a semester aboard.
Edward kept away from her things. The books and cd's and clothes, the clutter of a life being lived. His eyes wandered across them when he could bring himself to look away from her, longing to go closer, to see what filled her mind and made up her passions, but he couldn't. He was already trespassing too far simply standing there.
He had trespassed into every part of her life without her knowing. Nearly her death, having saved her life and now her own bedroom, disgusted with both and yet feeling incapable of the control necessary for to stop any of them. He needed to find a way to leave her. Her bedroom. Her life. Her world. Leave her to those fragile, warm, heart-beat having other people who could have her in their lives.
Without wanting to kill her for simply existing or bringing too much danger into her life.
There was going to be someone, somewhere, some life she was destined for.
It wouldn't be him. It couldn't be him.
How could that hurt so staggeringly?
"Edward."
He'd gone marble still, eyes flashing to her, to the window, and back before she'd finished mumbling his name the second time in her sleep. He couldn't be feather light, it wouldn't even be feasibly possible, yet he felt like he could have been knocked over by the faintest touch. Her voice continued to echo in his thoughts as he shuffled backwards, further away even as the urge to move closer to her bed choked his chest.
"Stay." Bella sighed, into her pillow and the wide fan of her hair. "Don't go. Please...don't go."
He couldn't have moved if he wanted to now. She was dreaming of him; pleading with him not to go in her dream; pleading with him not leave her even as he'd known he must. She was dreaming of him. Isabella Swan was dreaming of him, of not wanting him to leave.
She shifted with another sigh and Edward held his hands tight at his opposing arms. Nothing was ever going to be same. Nothing. It wasn't that Alice could be right. It was that she was. It was that everything about falling in love with her, everything that was just admitting he already was, would be easier than thinking. It was only the struggle against it that made everything a living hell.
After eighty years, his life had finally been altered the same way as his family members.
He did love her. Unequivocally. Irrevocably. He would for the rest of eternity.
Now he'd have to be strong enough to leave her.
He'd have to find the will, the strength.
She deserved her life, didn't she?
Alice had only given them two options even when she'd seen him in love with her.
He would either kill her or she would become one of their kind.
Neither was a feasible situation.
He wouldn't ask Carlisle to take her life, her soul, away.
She deserved better than a half life in shadows.
A world full possibilities, not limitations.
Could there be another way? Could he find a way between Alice's visions? Could he walk the thin wire of staying? Could he stay and love her and still defy both of Alice's inevitable conclusions? Would he strong enough? What had she said that night?
He may be just strong enough not to kill her--but it will be close. It will take an amazing amount of control. More even than Carlisle has. He may be just strong enough....The only thing he's not strong enough to do is stay away from her. That's a lost cause.
She was right. Alice was always right. But she couldn't be right about those two inevitabilities. He'd managed this long to snarl her future up. If he could stay a few steps ahead of her--for how long? Always? Would it divide them the way nothing ever had before as he continued to play havoc with her mind based on his own refusal of her vision? Could he live with that inevitability?
Bella murmured unintelligibly and Edward watched her with dark, conflicted eyes.
He would. He would give anything to save her from the two damning fates that were presently her only option. Even Alice. Even if that thought was paralyzing and shattering different things inside of him as others blossomed bright. He had to save her. There was no other option. He couldn't love her and leave her to either of those endings, and he didn't know if he could find the will power to leave her. Not after the last few hours.
Could he be careful enough? Could he leave her human and be with her?
Edward opened his mouth and took a deep breath.
Then another and another and another.
It was worse than the class room, where there was an air flow and windows, dozens of other innocuous scents lay one upon another as minute distractions from the force of her. Her bedroom held no distraction however minute. It was only her. The perfume of her scent layered heavily on every single inch of it, weeks of being in one place concentrated thick. His head swam, vision blurring without ever actually altering, hands gripping tighter and harder into granite forearms.
He trembled with the fight not to move from where he sat.
Being on fire couldn't have felt this horrible.
Edward continued to take gulping breaths, refusing to stop.
His darkening eyes never left the quietly sleeping face and form of Bella Swan.
If he was going to attempt anything involving her, he would have to get used to this first.