RATED: Light T for sex and very lightly implied character death
A/N: BACOB ANGST.
She thinks somewhere in the back of her mind the phone is ringing, but now he's leaning into her and warming her and reminding her what it's like to feel loved. Bella blocks the noise out, takes a step forward, and swears she'll never look back again.
And then he kisses her, and God it's been so long since she's felt warm, and her world is spinning fasterfasterfaster and tilting down, dumping her off. But that might just be Jacob pressing her against the couch, placing his lips against her ear and neck and cheek and whispering that I'll never never leave you.
Betrayal and rebellion sting the back of her tongue and make her bold, reminding her that He said he doesn't love you anymore. Telling her that He doesn't want you anymore screaming that He's never, never, never coming back for you. And even though this means acceptance and no more of his voice in her head, and no more of her grip on fantasy, she kisses him back. She kisses him like he's just saved her life.
"Bella," He whispers against her skin, heated and breathy. The image of him slowly fades behind a haze of heat and lust (for what, she's not sure) steaming away like ice under hot water. All Bella can feel now is Jacob, kissing her, worshiping her, saying her name like the holiest prayer and touching her like she's the only person in his world. His hands on her hips and stomach and his the tips of his fingers against the underside of her breast make her think of everything he wasn't.
This is perfect, her brain says, this is a boy who will kiss you and love you and never look at another girl (partly out of adoration, partly out of fear). Maybe your days are numbered, but really, who's aren't?
So she cuts the final ties. She presses into Jacob and wraps her hands around his neck and covers her memories with a black curtain.
No more pain. She implores, watching static form on the ceiling as Jacob kisses down her neck, willing tears not to come. Because in the pit of her stomach, there's a bittersweet happiness that comes from loss and redemption- but there's happiness. No more pain.
No more pain. Her mind repeats firmly, glazing over as her eyes flutter shut and her head lulls to the side. A lovely warmth fills in the hole, replacing stitches with cement, cold with heat and pain with wrong, wrong,wrongwrong pleasure.
In the back of her mind, she hears the ringing stop and the answering machine pick up. The person doesn't leave a message, but she's stopped thinking about anything but him, him,himhim.