AN: I don't own the lyrics or the characters or really, anything you recognize. Thanks to my beta for being amazing and lovely and a plethora of other stellar adjectives. Also, 1/2 view is prettier, imo.


Is there anybody going to listen to my story

All about the girl who came to stay

She's the kind of girl you want so much

It makes you sorry

Still you don't regret a single day

- "Girl", The Beatles


The water is lapping gently at the shore, and far in the distance, Edward can imagine the waves are stronger, violently colliding, their crests white as he sits in the sand, the cold English air making him uncomfortable. He pulls his black coat tightly about his person, attempting to cocoon all of himself within its confines, the front unzipped, but still, there is not enough material, so he settles for wrapping his arms around his knees and pulling them to his chest.

He runs his right hand through his shock of bronze hair; it is too long, but he can't find it in himself to care without her next to him. Besides, she liked his hair long and shaggy.

The wind whips around him again, and he shivers.

Edward isn't sure whether it is the cold breeze or the memories of her, haunting him, that makes him quiver.

He thinks of the events of the year he spent with them and of how badly he misses their whole dysfunctional, wonderfully unconventional family. Edward remembers the first time he met everyone, the first time he met her.

She revolutionized his way of thinking, but then again, that had been part of the problem, in the end. She was beautiful and free and wild. Smart and engaging. A lover of music and art – his art. He loved her through and through, even in the end when things went dodgy. She had loved him; at least, he had believed she did.

He loves her still.

He always will.

But there is an ocean between them now, and he is helpless, hopeless and empty without her.

His mother wonders what is wrong with him; he is now a creature of habit, and all of his days are monotonous. He wakes, goes to work, has a pint or two alone and returns home, retiring to his room in silence. His art is suffering. It is as though he has lost his muse.

He has lost his muse.

Without her, it is like he has lost a limb, a vital part of who he is, and this frightens him. He has never been dependent in this way before, and he knows not how to work within this handicap.

He misses her more than he can accurately describe, and what he wants most is that which he cannot have: to return to the place that became more of a home to him than he had ever experienced, and to see her just once more.

He stares across the ocean, picturing her face in the expanse of space above it. Dark hair hanging long and almost to her waist. Expressive brown eyes that showcase each and every emotion she feels, framed with long, dark lashes. The apples of her cheeks are naturally pink and when she smiles the effect on Edward is undeniable; even at the mere memory, he inhales quickly, his sharp breath filling his lungs fast and furiously. He wonders what she is doing. He wonders what they are all doing, but she is, as always, at the forefront of his mind.

She is beautiful and terrible; an angel and a devil; his one and only, forever.

Sighing to himself, he stands, zipping his coat up, dusting the sand from his jeans and, after a few more moments of staring over the sea, he takes a slow, deep breath and turns over his shoulder.

The walk back to town will take some time, and he must at least make an appearance at dinner.

The whole way, his thoughts surround one person.

Bella.


AN: The prologue is very short, but the rest of the chapters will not be. Everything will be written in the third person, and yes, this is a crossover fic of sorts, if you hadn't guessed already. I'll be combining the characters from Twilight with ideas from "Across the Universe". Some bits (like this one) will mirror the movie, some will not. I'll be using the soundtrack as a guide because it is fantastic.

Thanks for reading. That makes you awesome.