Everything belongs to SMeyer, as always.

This is a oneshot. There will not be sequel.

False Love and a Life in Lies

Storm grey eyes studied me intently. Those eyes could be as calm and mysterious as tendrils of smoke curling against glass, but today they were dark oceans curdling and heaving with the turmoil of a tempest.

Without saying a word, the eyes looked past me.

When he wasn't looking at me, I didn't exist. There didn't seem much reason to.

I watched him leave, all blonde hair and long legs, a gait that was distinctly his, but didn't stop him. I knew I couldn't. It would only destroy what little was left of our friendship.

Would we still be friends?

He would blame me for what happened. I knew this beyond doubt. He would never understand that he had been just as guilty, leading me to act out of desperation as surely as I had led him to this point.

A stinging pain in my hands startled me. Looking down, I uncurled my fingers and saw blood well up from tiny crescents carved in my palms. I wiped them off on my jeans and started walking - the opposite direction that Jasper had taken.

Slow deliberate steps quickened, became a jog, became a sprint as I tore out of the school grounds. I couldn't stay here any longer.

I pushed faster, harder, enjoying the seering pain of muscles forced into action beyond their capabilities. The pain was good. It distracted from the ragged hole tearing at my chest.

Frigid winter air burned my lungs as I gasped for breath, but I didn't stop running. My feet pounded against the pavement, pushing forward, trying to escape what had been unavoidable.

I had known he would reject me. I had known it even before I'd pressed my lips against his.

For one moment, my life had been perfect. He didn't resist. His lips had been softer than I could ever have imagined and he had reacted the way I had always imagined he would. He'd pressed back, only a hint of hesitation. His one small action had filled me with false hopes and I had pressed back eagerly, needing more. One hand escaped the rigid control I kept over it and did the unthinkable - twisting itself in the soft cotton of his blue hooded sweatshirt.

When I pulled him closer, sought permission to take more than he could ever give, he pushed me away.

I should have let him. I should have salvaged what shred of dignity I had left, but I couldn't. The very heavens had given me this one small moment and I clung to it desperately, unwilling to have it ripped from my grasp so soon after it had been given.

He'd recoiled from me, large hands pushing roughly against my chest, scratching at my hand as he'd tried to pry himself free. I pushed him backwards into the rough brick of the wall in an attempt to stop him from unraveling my world, he panicked.

I couldn't blame him for his actions. Not really. But I did.

My running slowed as my house came into view and I allowed myself to touch the throbbing pain on my lip. I felt warmth beneath shaking fingers and was not surprised to see blood, a stark red against the pale of my skin.

A split lip then. It could have been worse. He might have broken my nose.

Maybe he wanted to remain friends after all.

Doubtful.

Fumbling in my pockets, I found my key and attempted to unlock the door. My hands hardly seemed my own. My hands shook so badly I'd dropped the key twice before the lock finally turned, opening refuge to my battered spirit.

I slammed the door behind me and stagged my way upstairs, grinning with sick delight at the feel of lactic acid already burning through my abused muscles. Physical pain was good. Preferable to other pain.

Sharp distraction.

I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the tap, not caring if the water running from the faucet was hot or cold. A quick glimpse at my appearance was oddly satisfying.

Blotchy red and purple bruising had already begun to collect beneath the surface of the skin at the bottom left side of my mouth. Blood from the split had smeared on my chin and dripped on the collar of my jacket.

The dark circles beneath my eyes looked like bruises. The dark purple smears brought out the green of my irises, emphasizing the way they burned with anger and hurt. My hair was damp with sweat from exertion and I brushed it back from my face.

I splashed water over my face, scrubbing roughly against the wounds to remove the crusted blood and taking too much join in the sharp jolts of pain it caused. Shutting off the water, I looked back up at my reflection and scowled.

I would have to answer for this.

To tell the truth or lie? I hadn't decided yet.

I dried my face with a towel and tossed it on the floor before heading to my room. I collapsed onto the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling, letting the stark white capture my focus. I tried to become as empty as those white walls, erase everything and live pure, clean, unspoiled.

I knew Bella was coming before she even pulled into the front drive. I should have guessed she would come. She'd been my best friend as long as I could remember.

She was my girlfriend, after all.

I heard the unmuffled roar of her engine as she pulled up to the house. I couldn't help but think how similar she was to her beloved red truck. On the outside, you took a look at the frame and doubted the power it could possess and were shocked, time and again, as that surface gave way to intense dedication, strength, and determination that hid beneath the surface.

She didn't bother knocking. She hadn't knocked on my front door since we were ten years old. For a moment I debated whether or not I was happy I'd left the front door unlocked.

She was in my room within seconds of entering, her brow creased with worry and concern clear in her eyes.

I diverted my gaze from her own, stricken with shame from what I had done despite her unwavering love for her.

"Edward, what happened?" She flew to the bed and sat beside me, gentle fingers ghosting over my bloodied face. "Angela said she saw you walking away from the school. She said you were bleeding."

I looked down at my hands. Bella was a saint. I loved her more than anyone. Anyone except Jasper. I'd already ruined everything with Jasper, I couldn't do that to her too.

"Nothing." The raspy sound of my voice was startling. It sounded as though I'd swallowed sand and shards of glass.

"Are you seriously going to tell me that 'nothing' bloodied your face?" Bella's voice was more hurt than incredulous. If she was upset that he hadn't talked to her before leaving, she'd never understand.

"Unbelievable. I couldn't get an answer from Jasper either. I can get why he was so keyed up though. Did someone attack you two?"

I didn't answer at first, but I knew she wouldn't give up so I shook my head minutely.

"Why are you being so difficult?" She breathed out heavily in frustration. I wanted to scream my guilt to her, but I couldn't even look her in the eye.

"Bella-" I protested, but stopped as I finally raised myself to look at her. The amount of concern and love she felt for me was visible in everything from the set of her body, to the lines in her face, to the amber-brown colour of her eyes.

I wish I could love her the way she deserves to be loved. I wish that I could love her instead of Jasper.

I was surprised that Jasper hadn't told her what I had done. A glimmer of hope sparked to life in the recess of the hole in my chest. Given enough time it might heal the edges of the ragged wound, but until then...

Until then I allowed Bella to cradle me in her arms and accept her sympathy and chastisement. I imagined the heat that radiated from her was a sign of silent anger burning inside her. Maybe one day the flames of discord would be enough for her to leave me as she should.

Until that day, I remained a coward. I held on to the love she offered though I had no right to claim it, because the false love we had built was better than no love.

Maybe one day I could live without shame and without lies.

For now, I held tighter to the small girl who loved me unconditionally despite my every effort to stop her.