I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved; the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.

-George Elliot

She had had many death experiences since upon arriving to Forks; most of which were because of her meddling in the supernatural.

But if she had any air remaining in her lungs, she would've laughed. Even now, as the cold started to freeze her body, she managed a smile in the omnipresent weight and darkness of the water; how fitting, ironic, even, that her actual death would be completely natural…after all, people drowned everyday.

And she was happy. The temperature reminded of her of the one she wanted most, but could never have. Had never really had. But she didn't have to think about that now. She only had to think of the image her mind had procured for her; the gloriously angry archangel screaming at her, telling her…things. Words of survival, maybe. It didn't matter. Not as long as her vision could fade seeing only this beautiful god; and, as long as she could float to numb death from the coldness of the water that she could imagine was her hallucination holding her.

Yes…it was all okay then. It was more okay now than it had been in…far too long. She'd been the living dead for far too long. And now, the pain would be gone. As well as pretending that maybe someday she could ever…be normal, or...or okay again, or even really…be. It would always have been a cursed life, a half-life.

Empty. Incomplete. And all in all, not worth it.

The oxygen was in it's last lap of life-giving circulation around her body. She had swallowed so much water at this point. She was drowning. She was nearly dead.

She was happy.

I'd forgotten…really, really, didn't remember…what that felt like…

She wanted to furrow her brow, but she couldn't, as far gone as she was. But still, it was so strange. To be able to feel something beside the blinding pain and misery again.

It felt good.

I'm glad I'm dying, she thought serenely, closing her eyes and allowing herself to float in this black abyss. The angel's arms were still around her. His voice still in her waterlogged ears. Whispering things now that hope was gone for saving her. Whispering impossible, and impossibly beautiful things.

"I love you, Bella…I love you so much. I'm sorry…so sorry…but I love you. Don't forget that, okay? I love you. I'll find you again, my beautiful."

She sighed; gratefully releasing the last of her breath and thought of him; the first thing always on her mind, and who would now be the last, repeating his message back to him.

Good-bye. I love you.

Her body was just another collection of the greedy seas'…

They denied him. They told him no. They would not give him this mercy willingly. They could not understand…

Well, he would make them understand. If they wouldn't give him death willingly, then he would force it from them. They would not tell him no. They would not deny him the second greatest thing he had ever wanted in his life.

And he could have her no longer. The option of giving in and crawling back to the angel was lost forever…and so now, death was the only alternative.

The patch of sunlight was right there, the clock tower's booming chime reverberating in the rescan streets, and especially this small ally he occupied.

A nearby child in the ring of light put their hands to their ears, tears streaming down it's face from the painfully loud noise.

Silently, the suicidal predator took off his white cotton shirt and let it slither in the wind to the ground. He did not look back at it as he approached the edge of his story; it was no use to him.

He was going to die very soon. Surprisingly, it didn't take all that much mental preparation, because she no longer laughed or smiled or lived on in this air he was breathing.

If it were at all possible for vampires to do this, bile would have risen in his throat. He……he was breathing! And she…she who deserved it, wasn't. He was fouling up the air, taking in oxygen she couldn't. How dare he…

He held his breath as he closed his eyes, palms up, approaching the prism of light; his sure downfall and he welcomed it, literally, with open arms.

Instead of contemplating his impending doom, though, he took his last seconds to think of her. She was smiling at him…(Ha! As if he deserved it, almost…)…and beckoning him forward.

"I've missed you," she whispered, her beautiful brown eyes widening in happiness at the sight of him…(it was his fantasy, he could wish for the impossible here). "Come back to me, Edward. Come back…"

"I'm coming," he whispered in real life, so low no one could ever hear. "I'm coming."

He stepped into the light.

Screams. Gasps. All manner of sounds of bewilderment, fear, and confusion erupted into the cold air of Volterra. He smiled, eyes still closed. Perfect.

And then…doth his ears deceive him? Never. There were the snarls. The furious and strong arms forcing him back, and he knew they were running, fast, fast, faster, until they stopped. He could hear the sounds of a forest. They were far away from the city. He never opened his eyes.

"You idiot!" hissed a familiar voice; Felix. "I'm so happy you're set on this death wish, because I am about to make it come true!"

A very small smile graced his still never breathing lips.

Another snarl erupted from behind him, coming closer. "On three Felix," said the voice of Demetri, very cold.


There was pain, yes. It would have been excruciating, if he wasn't already in the most excruciating pain a creature could ever experience. Now, this was almost a merciful relief.

An arm, torn off. Another arm. A leg, his other leg. His torso, his head.

This disembodiment was so strange. Though he could feel himself being ripped apart, no longer connected, he still felt all parts of him, though the sections of him were being ripped smaller and smaller. His body was trying to regenerate, and surprisingly, though he was scattered all about, he could still feel emotion; and he felt panic on top of the pain.

No! No! I don't want to heal! I want to die. Let me die…Please!

Thankfully, the Volturi were quite proficient at their job. The whole thing was very quick, the whole ripping procedure. He could feel all his parts thrown together, and, before his body had a chance to do anything else, a burning began.

It was a pretty bad ache. But not nearly so much as becoming a vampire. And not nearly so much as losing…her. Losing everything, in the process.

As the flames tore him up, he opened his eyes.

And was shocked. For the first time in over a hundred years, his vision was starting to blur. As he was slowly burned and killed, he found all colors and textures swirling, mixing, and disappearing. But then…there was a light. He headed toward it. It was all he could do. It was light, and closer up, it was shining door. He reached out, but couldn't quite grab it, though he knew he needed to, instinctively.

The essence of his very will was behind it.

And every time, back on earth, his body became more incinerated, he found he could inch forward toward the handle.

Finally, in the land of the living, he was nothing but ashes.

In the realm beyond the grave, he opened the door.

The light was blinding. He blinked, shielding his eyes a moment. He hadn't felt so vulnerable to the elements in over a hundred years. But there was nothing harmful here…no fearful presence. Everything glowed, and shimmered, and shined.

Everything was beautiful and perfect.

But it all paled when his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw the most remarkable, most beautiful, most perfect thing here, or anywhere.

"Bella…" he whispered, and was surprised at how his voice sounded. It didn't…echo, exactly. But it filled up the space. Everything. It sounded close up and far away at once.

He shook it off quickly, and started walking toward the one thing he never believed he'd ever get to experience; an angel in heaven. He was actually here. Huh, Carlisle had been right it seemed.

But he felt his heart splinter in two, looking at this girl, his Bella. She sat, facing him sideways, so he could see her profile. Her white skirt fanned around her, though she had her knees hugged to her chest. Her white lace tank top looked beautiful on her pale skin, glowing and stretching as her arms crossed around her knees. Her brown locks fell in casacading waves.

Sad wasn't quite the right word to describe the feeling she gave off though. She looked too peaceful for that. Melancholy was a better word.

Slowly, tentatively, she looked up at him, only a few footsteps away.

"Oh, Bella," he murmured brokenly, his voice reverberating again.

"Edward…" she whispered, her eyes opened wide in awe, shock, amazement, gratitude, and…something else. Love? Acceptance? Forgiveness? He hoped.

Her face crumpled in pain then though, and his insides ached. "What are you doing here?" she breathed.

"…I'm not sure," he told her honestly. "Looking for you. I heard you were …dead."

She nodded. "I am."

"Well, I am too."

Her voice shook when she spoke again, and he longed with every fiber of his being to embrace her. "W - why?"

"Because I won't live without you Bella," he told her, his voice firmer than it had been previously. "I love you Bella. I can't live in a world you don't exist, as I said before."

"Yes, but…but…" her face was twisted in agony, and he couldn't stop himself from taking the few steps to her and collapsing on his knees next to her, his arms wrapping around her securely. He wasn't letting her go again unless she willed it. He held on tightly.

"But you don't…you don't love me! You can't!" she cried, sobbing into his bare chest.

"Why can't I?" he murmured into her hair.

"You told me you didn't…" she muttered, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks. His heart wrenched painfully. Angels shouldn't cry…especially not here, not in heaven. His thumbs stroked away her escaping tears.

"I lied."

But she just shook her head. "You're just guilty," she breathed, mostly to herself.

Then she found herself pinned flat on her back, looking up at her angel's beauty, that out shined even this glimmering, shimmering place. His eyes were narrowed, currently.

"Guilty?" he snarled softly, his face inches away. "Is that what you think? Well, you're wrong. I love you Bella. I have always, I will always love you. For as long as we get to exist in this…" he looked around, searching for a word, "…Place, whatever it is. And beyond. For eternity. Even if we don't…exist." He struggled for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around the concept that no one can correctly understand.

Her eyes still shimmered with doubt, he could see that. He sighed, his sweet breath fanning her face. "Oh Bella…I'll show you. I'll show you I love you. I don't want you doubting it ever again…Even if…you don't…love me anymore, especially after what I did to you; killed you…" he whispered, screwing his eyes shut in pain. "…I don't want you to be unaware of my feelings. And I'm sorry that I made you that way."

There was brief pause, and then - "You think I don't love you anymore?" she asked, incredulous.

"Do you?" he whispered.

For the first time since he'd arrived here, laughter bubbled from her pretty, full lips, and he reveled in it; in her. "Oh Edward…" she sighed. "I can't stop loving you. Not even here…not even in death…"

"Thank you," he murmured, before he closed the inches distance between their mouths.

It was beautiful. It was pure. It was raw.

His mouth moved with hers in ways it had never been able to on earth, allowing him to really kiss her, as a man should kiss a woman. His mouth moved sensually against hers, coaxing it open, before allowing his tongue to worship the inside of her beautiful mouth. Overcome with instinct and desire, he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth.

Then he gasped, breaking away, looking down in horror for what he had just done.

But all he saw was her smiling, radiant face. No blood, no pain, no screams.

"Oh, Edward," she sighed contently.

"H - how didn't I…hurt you?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.

She grinned. "I don't know. Either you're human now, or I'm a vampire, or we're both something else entirely…regardless, we're pretty evenly matched now."

He froze, taking this in. She watched him patiently, playing with his hair that she kept in both hands.

"That means…I can do anything now, without hurting you?" he asked slowly.

She shrugged underneath him, the movement pushing him a little closer to the blissful edge of the precipice he was standing on. "I'm guessing yes."

He smiled at her mischievously then, the first grin he'd worn in months.

"Bella?" he murmured against her lips. "Will you let me love you?"

She hummed contently against him, her eyes closed. "Yes. Please."

Slowly, he reached down to her shirt, before sliding it up her skin, making sure to massage every inch of her sides that his hands came across as he worked with taking off her shirt. She mewled, a small sound in the back of her throat, and raised her arms above her head on the ground, allowing him to pull the garment all the way off.

He sat up, straddling her hips, and looking down at her bare chest. She peeked one eye open self-consciously.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, trying to calm his increasingly ragged breath. "So beautiful…"

His hands lightly traced her sides. His fingertips brushed past the sides of her breasts, making her arch her back up, moaning.


He smiled crookedly. "And how does one resist that?"

His hands lightly traced her abdomen and circled around her belly button before coming back up quickly to cup her modest yet full breasts, that filled his palms perfectly; like they were made specifically for him to touch, and him alone.

"Bella…" he breathed, before leaning down to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Ahh!" she cried out, arching into his mouth, begging him to take more. Her hands fumbled from his hair to down where his loose white pants hung on his hips enticingly, straining to reach even as the fire his touch erupted in her crossed out almost every thought.

The next second her hands her pinned in one of his as he murmured between the valley between her breasts, "Later Bella. Later. I want to love you how you deserve; how I always wanted to."

She sighed, and relaxed back into the different, almost fluffy ground they lied on. It was indeed a strange place.

His lips slowly trailed a path of fire down the center of her torso, lightly brushing, tasting, and teasing her stomach, his tongue swirling in her belly button just briefly enough to make her jerk her hips up instinctively.

He got to her skirt, and pushed it down just a little, allowing him access to her lovely hip bones. His nose lightly skimmed across it, side to side. He followed the action with his mouth open. And then his tongue, softly teasing and tasting her.

"Edward, please, more.." she whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut as she relished in his exquisite torture.

"Patience," he muttered, his mouth resting right up her pelvic region. "I'll take care of you."

His fingers toyed with the waistband of her silk skirt before sliding that off her legs slowly, making sure to caress her legs fully, similar to what he had done with her shirt. Just like before, she was wearing no underwear.

His mouth went to suck on the flesh of her upper thigh, using his nose to gently nudge her legs apart. The fell open only too willingly.

He kissed feather light kisses up the juncture between her legs before slowly, finally, kissing her softly on the lips of her true desire.

She screamed out loud. "Edward! Oh god, Edward!"

He smiled gently against her, licking at her more fiercely now, plunging his tongue deep inside her; emboldened by the strength and confidence her screaming his name had given him. His fingers came up to caress her bundle of nerves, pinching and prodding whenever her screams became even louder, assuring him that what ever his actions were, they were just right.

Finally, he could wait no longer. His last months on earth he'd spent only wishing he could have her; just so long as she was in his arms, he could be happy and satisfied. But having her with him again had made him greedy. He needed all of her. Now.

Quickly, still retaining his speed, he whipped off his remaining pants and positioned himself between her open legs and right up against her hot, inviting core.

He leaned down and kissed her gently. She opened her mouth and let their tongue's dance together. He took this as consent, and slowly slid in.

It was magic. He held perfectly still, savoring this bliss. Impatient, his love rocked against him.

"Hold on," he breathed raagedly. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"I think I have an idea," she gasped out, her breathing as erratic as his.

After a few more moments, he gently rocked in to her again. "Oh Bella…" he crooned softly in her ear. "Oh my Bella…"

"Edward," she moaned. Her arms tightened around his neck and back, her hips lifting to match each thrust of his with one of her own. "God I love you so much…" she near sobbed, as each thrust led them closer and closer to ecstasy.

"I love you too," he whispered, as he began to rock into her harder.

Her legs wrapped around around his hips, pushing him deeper than he'd gone before. She cried out, throwing her head back and screaming his name again. With a groan of pure unadulterated desire, he attacked her neck, lavishing it with his tongue's and lip's caress, the other's name falling from both their lips like a prayer.

It was already so bright here; so as a reciprocation, there was a blackness forming in their eyes as they thrust against each other even harder and faster, both desiring that one peak they couldn't seem to reach, stuck inside this continuous aching pleasure.

He ground his hips into hers fiercer than before, and, finally, she screamed, louder than ever, and felt her world implode, the black exploding into beauty and love and pleasure, whispering promises of how the pain she had felt in her last months of being alive was gone forever now.

Her inner walls squeezed him, and he came soon after, his own world sufficiently imploded.

He collapsed beside her, gasping, before rolling over and pulling her naked flesh flush against him. "I'm never letting you go again," he whispered into her hair, his breathing still uncontrolled. "Never."

She smiled gently into his chest. "That's fine by me…" she murmured, surprisingly sleepy.

But what was even more shocking was when the male god next to her yawned. "Me too," he said surprised, but his voice was…drowsy. "I'm tired too."

"How…strange…" she muttered, before drifting off into sleep. Her love followed soon after.

Neither woke up ever again. They merely laid like that for all eternity in the other's embrace, having reunited, not dead or alive, or even in existence, really.

Just together. As it should be:

And so it was.

An idea I'd been toying with for a while and finally followed through with. What do you think?

- The Romanticidal Edwardian