A/N: I never thought the day would come when I would write a Twilight fanfic. But, alas, I found myself suddenly inspired. The mind does crazy things at four a.m. [p.s. I do not own twilight. Nor do I really want it. Except perhaps Jasper. Poor baby. Ag, I’m rambling, as usual.] [p.p.s. this is dedicated to my cousin and bestest friend. She knows who she is.]
“What can I get for you, Sir?”
My eyes scan the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter. It’s all the same to me, of course. Flavorless, over-priced.
This coffee shop is bursting with life. Old ladies sit around a table, laughing and drinking, attempting to capture some of their long-gone youth. They’re afraid to die, afraid to see what’s on the other side. But they aren’t thinking about that just now, at least not on the surface. They are thinking about life, about the beauty of it. They are content. I wonder what that feels like. How nice would it be to close your eyes and breathe and not have a care in the world.
At a couch in the corner, there is a group of kids. Teenagers. Their lives are the opposites, stretching out before them. They have more time than they know what to do with. They ‘re laughing too, but it’s much more superficial. On the inside, they’re thinking about pain and all the sufferings they cant believe they will live through. But they will. I know they will. Pain doesn’t last forever unless you let it.
And me. I am here in this river of souls, but I’m trapped. I’m not going to die, and I certainly don’t call this life. Maybe once, but… no. I cannot think of that now.
A light laugh comes from behind me, deathly familiar. A shudder rushes through my body. All things forgotten, I spin around. And the whole time my head is twisting in a million chaotic thoughts and for the first time in what may be ever they are all my own.
They are all of her.
It’s not, of course. It’s some girl I’ve never even seen before, surrounded by her friends. Smiling. Golden, even. But not her. Not my Bella.
Her name is a curse echoing through my mind. And I hate it, I hate it, I hate it- I love it. I love her more than I-don’t-even-know-what.
It’s too late. I’ve screwed it up beyond repair. I left her. But I was doing what was best for her. When you love someone, you have to do what’s best for them even if it kills you. You have to put them before yourself. Sometimes you have to leave… because you really want to stay.
My dear, sweet Bella, my Juliet, my dangerously tantalizing love. She is safe now. And I am all but dead. As close as this damnation will allow me to be.
My heart skips a beat as the coffee shop comes back into focus around me and that face almost fades from my mind. At least for now.
“Oh. Um. Carmel cappuccino,” I reply absently. What does it matter?
It’s nothing to me.