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This is the End. It's been a small ride and I hope you've enjoyed it.

Chapter 7

Edward

I can barely recognise him. Dark, purple rings are all too visible around his eyes, making him look hollow and starved adding to the sickly appearance his skin colour is giving him. His eyes attest to it; they’re pitch black, blacker than I ever remember seeing.

I barely dare to step towards him, but I can see he’s shaking, almost back and forth.

“Edward,” I whisper, pain filling me at the sight of him. My heart aches; this wasn’t supposed to happen, I tell myself. Gently I step towards him, measuring the safety, but there’s hardly any response from him. His eyes, though dark, are widened entirely giving him an unfocused look. I kneel by him, uncertain of what to do.

My body seems to know and gently, with care, I slide at hand around his shoulders, begging him mentally to stop shaking.

He’s rock-hard in my embrace and I shake with him while trying to force some calm through whatever connection we share.

Unable to calm him and I make noises of comfort, but after a while it’s still not working; he’s shaking incontrollable and I realise that he’d be crying his heart out if he could.

I move away and take a seat in front of him, cupping his face with my hands, hoping the warmth of my hands will make him come to his senses.

“Edward, what’s wrong,” I learn forward to stare into his dark eyes, all sense of self-preservation forgotten.

“B-Bella?” His skin is colder than it should be; what I remember it to be. He looks strangely weak and unhealthy, unhealthy for a vampire.

“Yes,” I confirm and his gaze seems to focus for a second and then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left. You hate me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” his voice is frantic and weak at the same time and for a moment his shaking becomes worse. “I love you so much; I cannot live without you, but I thought if I left you’d be able to live without me…” I understand. Before they had been words, words I didn’t understand, but now I know. I understand and I can see that it’s the truth. The pain he is in isn’t fake or pretence. He really thought he could force me to get a real life, a real boyfriend; to move on. More so, he assumed that it might just, indeed, have been infatuation.

I should hate him for it, hate him for being so blind and stupid, ignorant, and I have hated him. But now I can see that I’m not the only one in pain and I find strength in that. It wasn’t just a joke on his part.

“That proved healthy,” I mutter sarcastically, but he hardly reacts. He’s normally so collected and it’s scary to see this side of him. “I think I understand,” I whisper and move to hold around him again. I pull him into my embrace and he doesn’t resist but lean back onto the ground with me. He’s shaking less, but I can feel him gripping my clothes with inhuman strength, as if never wanting to let go. The thought cheers me and I smile to myself.

“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I forced myself to leave you alone after we c-came home. You didn’t want me…”

I feel a stab of pain and I try to resist the urge to tell him how much I love him. But I cannot, how can I fight against my mate? “I love you,” I whisper, whatever regret I’ve had has evaporated.

“Why?” He looks at me, confused, uncertain and fragile. I want to protect him, keep him safe and never see this side of him again.

“Because we belong together; I told you: there was never a choice,” I look at him and brush my hand against his cheek. He closes his eyes in contentment for a second.

“I don’t deserve you,” he then replies, opening his eyes and looking at me.

“Yes you do,” I whisper, “because we belong together,” we both fall silent for a second and me moves to lie comfortably. He touches my hair, my face and let his fingers slide around on my forehead. Tears gather in my eyes and I can feel the worry in him build. I shake my head, “I want you, I need you,” I whisper. “Why can’t I be your equal,” I look at him and he stares back at me. “It’s not just your choice,” I tell him. “This is my fairytale, not matter how you see it.”

He’s silent for a few moments and then nods determined, “I will turn you,” he promises and I am surprised at how steady his voice is. I realise he’s made up his mind already and knows that he can’t be without me and forcing me to stay human won’t work either.

“I’ll be with you. Who needs a soul when we have forever?” I smirk and him and he replies with a weak smile. “Promise me,” I ask of him. He nods, seriously again.

“I cannot lose you,” he whispers, over and over again and then he kisses me. I kiss him back, roughly. His shaking is becoming less.

***

We’ve been there for hours before either of us speaks.

“When did you last eat?” I question as my finger trace across his eyebrow. He shrugs, uncertain.

“I hadn’t eaten for a little over 2 weeks before Italy,” I raise my eyebrow at this and stare at him.

“You have to go eat,” I inform, but he shakes his head and takes me into his arms, strength returning.

“Not now,” he says, kissing my jaw, “I love you,” our lips meet. “I love you.”

We spend the rest of the night on the meadow, remembering each other. I urge him to eat, but he doesn’t want to leave me and, truthfully, I don’t want him to leave me either. It’s a little cruel, but I admit to myself it’s wonderful to know he can’t live without me. I’m stubborn enough to leave him in anger and hopefully I can use it if he suddenly thinks himself too dangerous to be around me again.

It isn’t until it starts raining, somewhere around noon the following day, that we leave the meadow. We go to my house and I’m glad Charlie isn’t there. I know he’ll be pissed and I need my strength if I am to take up a battle with him. Edward is staring at me the whole time and I realize that I am staring at him in return. We agree on a quick breakfast each and it pains me as I watch him leave to go for a quick hunt. I eat quickly and then shower. Before I’m done he’s back, eyes brighter and calmer.

“You’ll keep your promise, right? After graduation,” I ask. There’s no reluctance in his nod, only acceptance. He cannot be without me.

“I cannot lose you; live without you.” We seem to have reached an understanding. He understands that I cannot grow old without him and I understand why he left.

“I’ll hunt you with a bat if you find some silly excuse,” I smile at him and he laughs, less uncertain and more at ease. What I’m really saying, though, is that I’ll go to Italy myself and beg for a change and then I’ll hunt him down. He knows, somehow, and holds me tighter.

The End.

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