Disclaimer: All characters are Stephenie Meyer's. And the song that this story is loosely based on is by Jack's Mannequin.
A Breaking Dawn Fan Fiction
The moon was full. Its light reflected off the ocean and through the French doors casting a dark blue glow that illuminated the entire bed room.
Aren't the monsters supposed to come on the full moon? I smiled at my own musings. For tonight I was in, Bella had been so exhausted after our day on the island that she had nearly fallen asleep over the ravioli I had made for her. At least tonight she had managed to put herself to bed. A few nights this week I'd had to carry her to bed, not that I mind. It was my fault she was so tired. I may prefer putting her to bed so she doesn't have a chance to parade around the room in lingerie every night.
Not that she wasn't beautiful. She was stunning, dazzling even.
Tonight's nearly sheer black nightgown had all but sent me over the edge. I don't know if vampires can be killed by slow forms of torture, but it seemed like Bella was out to finish me. I don't understand what she expects, she was constantly asking, begging even, but I wasn't going to give in. Soon, despite all of my opposition, she would be like me. As soon she was safe we would have forever to be together. For now, I was content to just watch her sleep.
Seeing her asleep was going to be one of the things I missed most when she became a vampire. Her breathing became slow and deep, and soon I could watch her eyes dance behind their lids. Usually she would talk, giving me an uninhibited access to her thoughts that I long for. Her warm arms would wrap around my neck or on my chest, our legs would entwine, and her body would be pressed close to mine.
Her body, which suddenly jerked in my arms as she awoke with a gasp.
She was immediately hysterical. I tried to calm her down with soothing reassurances. I wondered if she was still sleeping, and this was just some kind of fit, she said she'd been having nightmares.
"But they were good dreams. I wanted them to be real." She cried. Leaving me, as usual, utterly perplexed.
I held her and she cried into my shoulder. I wanted her to tell me what the dreams were about so I would know how to fix it, instead she kissed me. I could feel a desperation in her movements. I decided that she was trying to kill me. I'd been avoiding her for days, and her kiss was even more wonderful than I remembered. It was nearly impossible to control myself. She ran her hands through my hair trying to pull me closer. Every instinct I possessed was begging me to lean toward her, instead I listened to the single voice screaming in my head.
"I can't." I tried to explain, hoping she could hear the anguish that was thick in my voice.
She began crying again, loud sobs that she failed to hide between her words.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just feel so alone. I just - I don't understand why you don't want me."
Her words flooded my mind, leaving me incapable of any other thoughts. She thinks I don't want her. She had been wrong about my thoughts before but how could she think that I didn't want her? Simply because I ached for her, not being with her was the most difficult thing I'd ever had to do, even harder than resisting her blood.
"No, no, no, no, no" I said punctuating each word by kissing her hair, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks. "I'm here, Bella, I just can't hurt you again."
The panic ended as quickly as it had started. She was staring at me, her brown eyes wide, and wet with tears that were slowly rolling down her cheeks.
"I trust you." She said in a frantic voice.
Through the tears, there was a clarity in her eyes, and I knew this was the truth.
She loved me. She trusted me. For the millionth time I was baffled by the fact that she would want to be with me, that she married me, that she would cry because she thought I didn't want her. I was desperate for her.
It was too much.
It took all of the self control that I had mastered in the last year and a half to slowly slide my hand around her head to pull her close to me. With a gasp, her crying ceased and she froze in my arms.
"You shouldn't." I whispered into her ear. I ran a trail of kisses down her neck. My lips found hers trembling, right before my hand found the hem of fabric resting on her thigh, where, after a small, decisive, tug I tossed the black nightgown onto the floor.
The rest of the night faded into the dark blue.