"I love you…" I couldn't help but whisper it, meaning it and feeling the words in the deepest part of my evil, sick being. She looked at me, tears gathering deep in those always sad pools of chocolate. Oh, how I used to be able to get lost in them; hours and hours I could sit and stare, just to contemplate how deep they really were, and wonder if her souls should be able to be that beautiful.
God, but for so long, I couldn't bear to even look at them.
I avoided her gaze, even when we talked. Even when she told me to look at her, screamed it so everyone in the next county could hear. Even when her soft, warm hand was on my jaw, pulling with what was probably all her might, but nothing to me. Even when she sobbed, begging for me to look at her; to love her again.
But she just didn't understand.
I loved her more than she could ever know. I loved her more than anyone had probably ever thought possible. She was the one, the only. When she was in the room, everything else went dark and quiet; all there was, was her. I loved her more than I cared to admit; but I admitted it anyway, smiling the whole time.
And she loved me more than I deserved. She loved me with her entire being; I could feel it. She would give anything for me, for our happiness. But I would give anything for her happiness. Mine didn't matter.
Which was why I was currently going through Hell.
But that didn't matter. God, only her. She mattered. She mattered. Only her.
I felt that horrible sadness, that incredible amount of despair that was absolutely heart breaking, that made me want to crawl in a hole and die to avoid it. Anything to make it go away; anything to take it from her. She looked deeper into me, eyes showing the cracking heart as she scanned for the truth of my words. She knew I loved her; but she was making sure that this whole conversation happened, and wasn't a sick joke.
God, how I wish it could be.
But ever since that day, ever since that day. My life had gone to Hell, my thoughts were incoherent, her love was muddled by sadness. Though we probably could have gotten over it; jumped over the trench or dug through the mountain; anything to make it around what I had done. But I didn't allow it. I had seen the light; seen what was meant to happen, how it was all supposed to be.
I had made too many mistakes to consider making her stay with me.
I had slipped. Again. But here I was, in my angel's house, sitting across from her in the old rocking chair, as a precaution set by me. Although it wouldn't last till tomorrow, I had to try.
My head hung low, my hands fisted in my hair as I leaned over my knees. God, how could I have been so stupid? What kind of retarded bastard was I? How could I do that to her; to anyone?
There was an inner war, one side angry that I had taken another life, that Bella had forgiven me; that I was still alive. The other was only arguing that it was what I was made to do; that I should do it again. My hands clenched tighter, and suddenly, there was a noise.
Springs squeaked quietly as I heard her not-so-gracefully shuffle out of her bed, throwing off her blankets and making her way across the cold wood to me. Her warm hand was on my shoulder, then, and I looked up. Disgusting red met beautiful brown, and I felt her confusion and sadness. No, not sadness at what I had done, but what I was doing now.
So very like Bella.
I straightened, opening my arms as she slid into my grasp, her warmth stirring beautiful feelings within me. And as she settled, I felt her repress a shiver. And then, the war grew, as in my selfishness, I was making her cold.
I plastered on a smile, and tried to hold it as her wide, curious eyes found mine again.
"Jasper? What's wrong? Oh, please, don't beat yourself up—"
I snorted, "Beat up? I should be killed. I can't believe I—"
"No. you need to be here, over by me, loving and caring and forgetting. It's in your nature. Of course you'll slip, especially with your past—"
"How long is that excuse going to last Bella? I mean, I've been trying for over half a fucking decade, and I still slip. And ever since we," I gestured between us, though it was hard with how close we were, and the way I leaned over her protectively, "became a couple, I've been slipping more! Look at me."
"I am, you're beautiful."
"No, God dammit! Look at me, look at these damn eyes! I killed someone!" I nearly shouted, only barely waking her father, after I sent him waves of lethargy.
She flinched, looking back to me with wounds in her eyes. No, not new wounds; we had done this before. Opened scabs, would be more accurate. But I had no desire for that cut; no. "I know. And I love you. It makes you human; it tells me that you make mistakes too."
"Bella…I don't trip, I don't drop things. I fucking kill people. There's a difference between that and a 'mistake'."
"Jasper…it's okay. You're getting better. I know it. I promise; this is the last time. You'll probably never drink from a human again." Her eyes were watering.
"You said that last time," I muttered, looking away from the cloudy, sad brown. Always so sad.
"I know. But I mean it this time." She managed a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, it was much too forced.
"No. No buts. Repeat after me. I will not touch human blood ever again."
I sighed, wanting to believe the words as I said them, "I will not touch human blood again."
"I am the most perfect being on earth, and I love you." She smiled more genuinely this time.
I tried to manage one back. "I am almost the most perfect being on earth, and I love you more. How was that?"
"Close enough, I guess."
She ran her hand through my hair, a soothing gesture as my mind settled, hoping her words proved true.
"C'mon," I said, "let's get you to bed. I am sorry I woke you. I love you, Bella."
"Will you lay with me, now?" she questioned quietly, her eyes looking up at me pleadingly.
God, all she had wanted me to do on those nights I had bitten someone was lie with her; to allow her to comfort me. She wanted to do something selfless, and I had prohibited it. Jesus, for once I wasn't doing something for me.
Every other time, I tried to corrupt her mind with what I thought was right, just to show her how much I loved her. Or, at least, that's what my sick mind could come up with.
"Bella," I sighed, and she looked up from where she was snuggled in next to me. I had only slipped a few days ago; but my control had broken, and I couldn't keep myself from crawling into the bed with her. Her sad, sad brown eyes looked up at me, a hint of curiosity in them.
"What do you hate?"
She looked confused by the question, answering slowly, as if testing my reaction, "Hate itself?" It came out more like a question.
"But, how do you know what hate is? How can you tell what it is?"
"I guess…" she looked off in thought a moment, before her eyes focused on me again, "I guess it's that burning anger in the pit of your stomach. The one that you only have to think about a thing, and it's there, dragging you down and ruining your day; and all of your thoughts revolve around just how much you hate that certain thing." She shrugged. "Why?"
"I don't know…" I sighed, "But that sounds a lot like how I feel about myself. About how I feel about the world."
"I don't want you to feel that way," her lip pulled out as her eyes saddened further.
"I do, though. I'm sorry."
"You're always apologizing."
She looked away, a small shine glistening as I smelt the salt of a tear. I said the first thing that came to mind.
God, she just wanted me to stop apologizing; to just look ahead and not dwell on the past. In fact, I had. And I was.
"I wish…" I sighed quietly to myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look up with her tired, sad brown eyes. "About what?"
"I wish it was easier to kill a vampire," I stated bluntly, not censoring anything.
"Why? Is there a vampire nearby?" Her heartbeat skipped a few times.
"No. I'm sorry I worried you."
She sighed at yet another apology, but instead of mentioning it, she said, "Then why would you want to be able to kill a vampire easier?"
"Because; I'm a vampire. It'd be easier to commit suicide." I shrugged.
I could feel the shock, the sadness and despair, I could smell the tears and hear the small sob. But she only whispered, "Why would you do that?"
"So I can stop hurting you."
"You don't hurt me." She was always such a horrible liar.
"I do. We both know it."
"Then I guess I like pain. Because I love you."
I turned on her, my eyes burning with my proclamation, "I love you more than you could ever even imagine."
"Then please; don't think about killing yourself." She didn't tell me not to. She simply asked. So selfless.
She whispered, salt coming again as another tear rolled down her cheek, "Okay."
She didn't care how I felt about things like that; like hate, or killing myself. She didn't like it; but she wanted my freedom before her peace of mind. She never said I couldn't think about something; she never even tried to. She just asked; she just wanted what was best.
So selfless. So beautiful and forgiving.
So, so sad.
"Ow!" I smelt it. I tasted it in the air after I heard her crash, metal bouncing away from her on the kitchen floor. I hadn't fed in a month; maybe more. And she had just cut herself with something sharp.
I couldn't think, only feel.
I felt the rush of air as I ran to her, felt the vibrations of her shrieks, felt her soft, warm skin on my lips, and felt the silk flowing down my throat. It tasted so wonderful, and in the back of my mind, I realized that we were alone.
And then, her scream, "I'm sorry!"
Somehow, it made me stop. It made me let go, looking up at her with ruby eyes, as she stared at me, half crazed as I saw the slightest twitch of her eye; indicating that she was in pain.
And then, she fell over.
I knew it had gotten to her; the venom; as she groaned. I knew I had to do something, so I latched on again, and pulled my venom out of her, before running.
I ran and ran, making sure I was miles away from my true love.
But the knowledge of what I had nearly done caught up with me as the sound of her faint heart faded.
When I came back, she had a bandage on her hand, and when I looked at her, she carefully avoided my gaze. She didn't look up from whatever she was reading. The title didn't register, only she did. Everything else was dark.
And finally, I was in front of her, pushing down the book and replacing words with red. And I saw those sad, brown eyes. Stormy and clouded with that ever-looming depression. And here it was, I was feeling it, finally breaking free from the cage she had tried to put around it.
Tears leaked out of the sad swirls of chocolate, her lips trembling as I tried to touch her. But she sat up, getting away from me and standing in the middle of the room. I just stared at her blankly as she looked out the large glass window, sobbing into her hand.
"Bella…" I choked out, trying to get her to look at me.
And she did. She turned around, her eyes connecting with mine as her sobs lessened. She looked down, rubbing her arm and whimpering.
I strode over to her, taking her face in my hands and moving her eyes back to my own; filled with her blood.
Before I could finish, she turned her head, easily breaking out of my barely-there grasp.
And then, as I stepped back, she fell to her knees, and hunched over herself.
"How can you do this to me?" Even I, with my perfect hearing, barely heard it.
That was the breaking point, the moment I stopped, and planned what needed to be done. I had done too much to her. She was always in pain because of me; she wasn't happy. And because she wasn't happy, neither was I. And so, I knew what I needed to do. I was going to allow her to be happy.
And here I stood, her sad eyes full of shock.
"If you love me, then why?"
I sighed, "I want you to love me, Bella. I want you to so bad."
"I do." She looked at me pleadingly, "Of course I do."
"No, say you love me."
"I love you."
I smiled sadly, "That's so wrong. Bella; it's exactly what I want. And everything I have ever wanted has always been wrong. Don't you see? I want you to love me…" She tried to interrupt, but I held out a hand, "but I need you to hate me."
She looked at me, angry and hurt tears flowing as she examined my face.
"I want you to despise me; to despise anything that has to do with me. I want you to spit on me; I want you to never think of me. I want you to move on, I want you to be what you are supposed to be. I want you to hate me."
"No! I can't…hate you."
"I want you to see what is meant to happen. I want you to see what's good for you. I want you to live and be happy. And I can't bring you any of that."
"So I'm leaving. I'm not like him, though. I won't be back. You'll never see me. I'll never hate you. And pretty soon; you'll want to kill me. You'll hope I die slowly and painfully; like I deserve. And you deserve to do just that. I'll drive; long and far. I'll make sure I'm too far away for anyone to ever even think of again. I'll leave the state; I'll leave the country. Hell Bella; I'll jump off the earth for you. Hate me. Hate me for the things I do to you. Hate me for the things I can't do for you."
"But…" she was sobbing again, something she had been doing too much.
"I'm doing this for you. I'm loving you and leaving you for you. So please; if you can't hate me for you, hate me for me."
"Please…" I whispered. I wasn't going to last much longer; I knew that soon, whether this conversation was finished, I would take off into the night, and she would never hear of me again. I would make sure of it. Jasper Whitlock would be dead to her.
"I'll try…" she reached for me, but I backed away.
"Good." My face turned stoic again as I worried that my emotions would break the mask.
"I'm sorry." And for once, she was the one who said it.
"I know." And then, I was gone, her sobs catching up with me, blending with my own.
And somehow, human blood always smelt sickening after that.
Okay, this was inspired by the song "Hate Me" by Blue October. Listen to it, please! Listen to it while reading, and it will blow up the effect. Although I don't like making people cry, I was hoping this was sad. Review please, thanks! :)