Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight series. That right belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
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Until Her Heart Stops
I stared at him long and hard, waiting for him to come to a decision. A flicker of horror mixed with pain shot through his eyes as he pursed his lips in deep thought.
"Why?" He asked, his tone full of uncertainty.
A sharp ache tugged at my heart. "Because."
"You don't have to be a martyr, Jacob."
"Listen, Cullen," I hissed lowly in thought. I wasn't one to be messed with at the moment. I didn't need anyone's pathetic sympathies or pitiful words of comfort. I needed an answer. That's the only reason why I even returned to this god-forsaken place. "It's simple. Yes or no will do."
"It's not up to me, Jacob," he said calmly.
I rolled my eyes and let out a sharp bark. "Ask her." I couldn't even bring myself to think her name.
"Look, I think both of you have been through enough—"
"Do it or else I'll see her myself." It was a statement, not a demand. Nothing would stop me from what I wanted.
"It's your funeral," he muttered to himself.
I glared at him through narrowed slits. "No." A wave of anguish washed over my body. "It's Bella's."
But he didn't ask her.
The room was dark. Cold. Ice coated the windows in a thick layer. No. I didn't feel any of it. I had become so numb over time that nothing really fazed me. Hollow. Alone. An empty shell. I watched as the four bloodsuckers surrounded Bella's body. It had been done. The process was
slow—three days—but today was supposed to be the finale. I stared at her writhing body, slowly breaking away into a paradox.
The changes were discrete. First it was little color she had draining from her skin. She had been very pallid before, but now she was pale like them. Like him. Second was that sickeningly sweet scent. My stomach churned uneasily as a sugary, frosting like smell burned my nose. It was disgusting. She was changing right before my very eyes.
Some would call me a masochist. No. I didn't enjoy inflicting such pain upon me. I did it for her. I did it for me. I needed closure. I wanted to be there for reasons of my own. No one understood except Bella. I'm sure she did. I saw it in her eyes right before she was pulled under into oblivion. She talked a few times during the screaming and agony she endured. In her sleep, Bella apologized to me. She loved me, yes, I knew that. And I loved her. I loved her so much that I let her go—I wouldn't be responsible for shattering her into a million little pieces. That was the one thing I would have over him.
Fire and ice. It had been said that fire would always melt ice, but in this situation, that saying was wrong. I was the flickering flame of incandescent anguish and he was the icy glacier of sympathy. But it wasn't him that defeated me. Bella defeated me. By becoming ice, she froze me in time. A flame frozen for eternity.
I wouldn't love again, even if I could help it. I wouldn't go down that road again. It was too painful. I knew I would never get over her. She chose this life. She chose this life without me. I wasn't going to give her those options anymore. I don't think I could stand seeing her like this.
They all turned to me, both sad and relieved. She had survived the transformation and yet she was dead. She wasn't my Isabella Marie Swan anymore. She was a Cullen. She was his. The glacier's. Edwards. Not Jacobs. Never Jacobs. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes as she drew her last breath as a human. The room was quiet. The rain pattered against the window, echoing throughout the dark room.
And then she was gone. Forever lost into my nightmare and her dream. I wished to escape life. I wanted to escape everything. If only I had the option the bloodsuckers had. If only I could run off to a royal family of werewolves and ask for them to put me out of my misery. Pull an Old Yeller.
I got up slowly and walked out of the room. I wouldn't be there when she woke up. I wouldn't be there when she wanted to see me. No. I wouldn't be anywhere. I would be the lone wolf in the forest. I would be the rustling of the wind. I would be the clashing waves of the ocean. But I wouldn't be there for her.
Until her heart stopped, I would love her. Until her heart stopped, I would be there for her. Until her heart stopped, she was the fragile girl I pieced back together.
That moment would haunt me forever because I was there when her heart stopped.