Author: Arastas PM
Oneshot. James-centric. Bella reminds him a little too well of a certain human he'd rather forget... James/OC, implied James/Bella.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - James & Bella - Words: 538 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 5 - Published: 10-12-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4591680
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Emily's back, with more James-centric fics, because he's her favorite character! Okay, no more third person. So, I wrote it last night, and today I'm going through all my fanfiction journals and binders and such and typing up all the halfway decent stuff, so here we are. Another deep and introspective oneshot (my favorite kind) with implied James/Bella (one of my favorite pairings)! Sorry about the shortness, though.
Oh, and the part about "his most primal longing"… I meant blood, not sex. Just to clarify. Because I read it over and was like, "Oh, that sounds kinda kinky... Whoops."
Disclaimer: Oh, goodness, I wish I owned James… Unfortunately, him and the rest of the Twilight gang belong to Stephenie Meyer. -glares at Stephenie-
He was loath to admit it, but the attraction was to more than just her blood. Her luscious mahogany hair, her pale, heart-shaped face, her full lips-- She was everything he had lost, a cruel reminder of the love he'd had to leave behind.
"I'm strong enough," he'd told his creator. "She'll be fine. She's in no danger."
"She may not make it out of this alive and still human," the man had warned him.
The warmth that radiated from her, the delightful rise of blood to her creamy-skinned face… It was all so familiar, only he hadn't appreciated her humanity fully before his own was gone.
Her tinkling laugh, the swirl of her dress around her pale, blood-warmed legs… The light in her eyes, the carefree love and life there. How blissfully oblivious she had been.
All he had planned to do was watch, nothing more. But then the tantalizingly sweet scent of her blood hit him through the window, and his carefully rehearsed control broke.
Crimson turned to onyx, and he pounced, catlike in his stealth and grace.
There was a muffled cry of fear, followed by the low wail of recognition.
Remorse hit him, hard. This wasn't what he had come to do. But she wasn't the same anymore. No longer his genetic equal.
She was weak and fragile where he was strong and unbreakable. She was warm and soft where he was cold and unchanging. She was the quarry, he the hunter. She was his prey, only sustenance. She was no longer a lover, only a means to satisfy his most primal longing.
And as she died, as he pulled the liquid fire of her life through her and into him, she didn't scream. She just whispered his name, over and over, against his cool skin. A dying caress. A haunting in the making.
He wanted to hear her again. He wanted his own name repeated to him; he wanted to watch her die, feel the quenched thirst in his throat, and know that he had done the right thing. He wanted to replace one face with another, and this time, feel no regret.
More than anything, he wanted a chance to do it over. A chance to save her.
Love me? Hate me? Think I'm FAR too obsessed with the main antagonist of the first book? Let me know in a REVIEW!