I wrote this for the SOB Drabbel Contest.


They have good days and bad days. Easy days and laboured days. Cheerful days and mournful days.

Some days Bella would wake up to see Jacob deep asleep beside her, his features peaceful, his black lashes casting shadows underneath his eyes in the dim sunlight.

Those days she would run her fingertip across the smooth skin of his cheek, brush it gently, feather-like, across his soft lips – taking in his beauty, his innocence which only ever lived while he was asleep.

She would wake him, whisper in his ear, blowing air across his nose, marvelling at his reaction - the way his nose would crinkle and his forehead would crease.

But some days Bella would wake up to the sound of Jacob's soft snoring and her heartbeat would race already in the early hours of another day.

She would groan and try to muffle the disturbing sound with her pillow before turning around and punching her elbow into Jacob's ribcage – the impact hurting her more than him. Eventually he would wake up to find her glaring at him with fury in her sleepy eyes and he would apologize, press his lips to her forehead and she would push him away, crawl out of bed and stomp out of the room.

Some days they would feed each other during dinner, forks and spoons reached across the table, their feet playing, cuddling, intertwining underneath the surface, chocolate pudding smeared across Bella's cheek and Jacob would bend across the small distance and kiss it away, his lips ending up on hers and Bella would taste the sweet combination of chocolate and Jacob, her hands abandoning her cutlery, burying in Jacobs's hair instead.

But another day Jacob would come home from work, I'm home echoing through the house, following the smell of food to find Bella busy in the kitchen.

With an exhausted smile he would cross the room, kiss Bella softly on the lips before eying the stove, a not-again-expression etching onto his face and Bella would see it before his sunshine-smile could cover it up and she would be mad at him, yell at him for not appreciating the food she made, ordering him to cook himself next time.

Mad at himself and mad at Bella Jacob would be silent, trying to ignore the way Bella's hands were firmly pressed against her hip, a strand of her hair loosening from her ponytail and he would finish dinner wordless, serving and eating – waiting until the fury in Bella had subsided.

They have days when a simple kiss can ignite fire and passion in them, when holding hands can be the most intimate and close act, when no words are necessary, when life is beautiful.

And they have days when their kisses feel like duty, like a responsibility, something they owe each other, when each word is misconceived and leads into a fight.

But at the end of each day there is always something that makes it a good day – they lived it together.