Those Heroin Eyes
a one-shot collection by That'sMyFiasco
This is a collection of one-shots I have written for my claim over at the livejournal community twilightficmix. There, each person claims an album, and then writes a one-shot based upon each song. I've claimed the record "Never Take Friendship Personal", by Anberlin.
Each chapter is a stand-alone piece unless stated otherwise, and will feature and array of characters, themes, genres, and ratings; each will be marked as such, however.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight saga. Nor do I own the marvelous music of Anberlin, whose greatness I can only aspire to.
Chapter One: Sleepless Nights Become Bitter Oblivion
The Song: Paperthin Hymn
Characters: Edward and Bella
Set/Spoilers: This is during the 'interim' of New Moon
Word Count: 755
Rating: Rather general
When your only friends are hotel rooms
Hands are distant lullabies
If I could turn around I would tonight
The thick curtains that hung in the hotel room were drawn closely, refusing sunlight any entrance. He barely remembered what town he was in- Chicago, Philadelphia, Montreal blending together in a blur of careful tracking and the thoughts of strangers. He hadn't spoken to Carlisle in days- he didn't have to be able to hear his thoughts in order to feel the sadness and disapproval his father felt.
Edward didn't have the heart to tell him that whatever regret he felt now was nothing compared to what he was feeling. What he couldn't escape.
The daylight lasted, and he grew restless, pacing the room and clenching his hands together in an effort to avoid smashing everything within reach. With nothing to focus his attention on, he was going mad, his thoughts turning again and again to what he couldn't bear to consider.
Eventually, the sunny sky was overtaken by thick rainclouds, and he fled the room, fighting to maintain his self-control. He would find her, and she would die.
Revenge was all he had left.
I thought you said forever
Over and over
A sleepless night becomes bitter oblivion
Bella stood by the window, the cold winter air seeping in through the thin glass. The light of the full moon was harsh, the sky clear enough of clouds to let it shine unobstructed.
Sleep didn't come easy anymore. And when it did, the sweet release of night was overtaken by nightmare after nightmare. Daytime was easier- there were distractions, things to do, other things to worry about. There was no other choice- it was either pretend to keep it together, or completely fall apart. She wondered if the act of pretending was helping her stay sane.
The nights were the worst. Lying there in the dark, completely alone, with nothing to keep her company except for haunting thoughts and painful memories. Some nights, it was too much- she would stumble out of bed, trembling and cold.
There was nothing to do but wait for the morning to come.
Who's gonna call on Sunday morning?
Who's gonna drive you home?
I just want one more chance
To put my arms in fragile hands
He didn't bother with cars, planes. His prey didn't need them, and neither did he. Running was all he had anymore, the feeling of the wind on his face and the ground flying under his feet intoxicating. It cleared his mind, gave him the escape that sometimes he felt he would kill to possess. There were too many things that brought the memories back. Sometimes, he could almost make himself wish that she had been no one, just another someone. He could almost wonder what would have happened it she hadn't tinted every aspect of his life so completely. It would have been that much easier to forget.
Somehow, he continued, night blending into another day that flowed seamlessly into another night. Slowly, he curled further in on himself. Try as he might, he couldn't convince himself that anything mattered anymore.
Time wore on, and he grew desperate. He began to reason with himself, making plans that he wasn't even sure he intended to follow. What if he just went back to check on her, just to make sure she was happy? He wouldn't have to stay- he could make himself leave if she was happy. If she didn't miss him at all.
And even though these kind of thoughts scared him, they at least carried him through the seconds that seemed like minutes, minutes that seemed like hours.
These thoughts run through my head
Over and over
Complaints of violins become my only friends
Occasionally, it would occur to her that she ought to care more.
Ought to care that her friends never talked to her anymore, ought to care that Charlie was driving himself sick with worry for her, ought to care about so many things. But like other traitorous thoughts, she pushed this back, ignoring the stirrings of guilt that always came up when these thoughts crossed her mind. Everything was easier if she just stayed calm and didn't let anything get to her.
So many things had changed. The same few meals were made repeatedly until Charlie wearied of the monotony and ordered out. Emails from Renee sat in her inbox along with all the useless spam, skimmed over on the rare occasion Bella took the time to sign online. Schoolwork itself was a blessed release, something that grabbed her attention and, if not especially interesting, at least gave her somewhere to focus her thoughts.
She didn't listen to music anymore. Quite aware that this couldn't possibly be healthy, she just didn't care- after all, if the choice was between music and wonderful numbness, she couldn't help but choose the latter.
After all, she was only human- and always would be.
I thought you said forever
over and over
These thoughts run through my head...