Disclaimer – I don't own them- I just put them in compromising positions and try to entertain you people :) I don't think it always works, but we can hope :)

A/N – This is an entry for Moonlight Studio's Lyrical Contest. Please note: This is VERY OOC and this Edward is pretty crass and doesn't… well, he doesn't think before he speaks. And this Jacob is a little… well, if you're team Jacob- consider this a little warning that he's not the kindest guy ;)

Penname: Stephaniiie

Story name: My Best Friend's Wedding

Pairing: Edward X Bella

Song: This Ain't A Love Song by Scouting for Girls

Main lyric:

Every night I remember that evening,

The way you looked when you said you were leaving

The way you cried as you turned to walk away

The cruel words and the false accusations

The mean looks and the same old frustrations

I never thought that we'd throw it all away

But we threw it all away

Word count: 5,549

My Best Friend's Wedding

Edward POV

"Come on, come on!" I urged the red light, drumming my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel; I was running late.

There are the times when running late results in a slap on the back of the hand- like being late for your own birthday party, or being late for a dinner date, or perhaps sneaking into your bedroom window after curfew. Then there are the times when running late results in slight public humiliation and eye rolls and titters- like being a tad late for your great aunt's funeral (you know, the one that had stunk of pee and smoked sixty an hour and, to be quite frank, the aunt you'd been hoping would conk it every year just so that you wouldn't have to receive another pair of pink socks), or like sneaking into your baby sister's wedding, or being late for graduation. They were all things I'd done in my life. I was an incredibly unpunctual person if I'm going to be completely and utterly honest with you. Perhaps that was an understatement, though. You'd have thought that an incredibly unpunctual person would at least try to be on time when it was practically a life-or-death situation. Hell, they'd probably leave a good twenty minutes early, just to be sure.

So maybe I wasn't an incredibly unpunctual person. Maybe, instead, I was a complete idiot who was perfectly happy to sit idly by and watch the girl I loved walk away. Yeah. That was a lot more accurate.

The red light changed then, and I pushed down on the gas pedal, urging my lovely silver Volvo on to the church. I hummed that old song, 'Get Me to the Church on Time', under my breath, but it sounded like a dirge.

Finally, finally, the church came into view. I screeched to a halt outside the door and climbed out, running to the door of the church without bothering to lock my car. I wondered what the typical procedure was for ruining your best friend's wedding; you know, should I knock or just barge on in there? Screw it, I thought, she did fucking invite me after all. I twisted the ancient, rusted metal handle and lifted the latch before pushing on the door as hard as I could.

I wanted to make a dramatic entrance and slam the doors aside and stand there looking all muscled and heroic and… wedding-crasher-esque. So I was more than a little disappointed when the door merely creaked open, leaving a gap that was too small for the thinnest person in the world to fit through. Stupid ancient church doors. I sighed and rolled my eyes but then pushed it open a little more, cringing as it squeaked loudly, and then stepped inside.

A hundred eyes were suddenly on me, looking confused.

"Uh… hi," I said. Then I gestured to the door. "You need to get some oil for shit like that."

A titter came from the crowd, a rustle of murmured disapproval.

It was then that I remembered why I was there. "Oh yeah! Stop the wedding!" I yelled as loud as I could without having my voice break.

Everyone turned to look at me again.

I glanced around, looking for her. I had to find her so that I could tell her how I really felt. But I couldn't see her anywhere. Oh hell, I hadn't gone to the wrong church again, had I? How many fucking churches were there in Forks? But then I saw Jacob, her fiancé, stood at the front, glaring at me. Nope. Right church.

"Where's Bella?" I asked, confused.

A man cleared his throat beside me.

I bent down.

"The wedding doesn't start for another fifteen minutes, Sir," he told me in a hushed voice.

"Ah." I glanced at my watch, and then held it to my ear, only to realise that it had stopped. At four o'clock. How bloody convenient. "My bad." I shuffled my feet awkwardly for a second and then flopped down into one of the pews, sprawling across it and tapping my foot impatiently.

The guests continued to stare at me.

I held my hands up. "Don't mind me. I'll save my outburst for when the bride's here."

Jacob was at my side and had grabbed my collar faster than I could say 'help'. He shot a strained smile to the guests and then proceeded to drag me out into the reception area where he released me. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Stopping Bella from making the lousiest decision she has in her life. And, trust me, she's made plenty of lousy decisions in her lifetime."

"Yeah, you'd know that, wouldn't you Cullen?" He sneered my name like it was an expletive.

I wondered how riled up I could get him. "Yeah, I would. I did date her for longer than you've known the girl."

His sneer turned into a scowl. "Time doesn't matter when you're in love."

I snorted. "You think she loves you?"

"I know she does."

"How?" I challenged. I didn't give him a chance to reply, though. "Did she whisper it in your ear as you made love at twilight in the most beautiful meadow you've ever seen? Did she tell you it when you were skinny dippy under the stars? When you took her hand and showed her more love and devotion in one touch than anyone could if they had all the time in the world? When you got down on one knee and told her how you'd be lost without her? Did she touch you and express feelings that no words ever could? Did she kiss you as though she had been stranded in the desert for months and you were water? Has she lain by your side and spent a whole night just staring into your eyes and exchanging secrets in whispers? Do you even know her biggest secret?"

Jacob was shaking with rage now. He shot me the filthiest glare I'd ever been on the receiving end of and then growled, "You're her fucking biggest secret, Cullen."

I laughed once. "No." I leant closer to him, jeering. "Her biggest secret isn't something she can tell you with words."

His eyes narrowed mockingly. "What is it then?"

I got closer again, and then whispered, "She gives the fucking best blow jobs in the whole of the world."

That got him. He raised his arm, fist clenched. And I stood there, waiting to take it like a man.

I suppose that you're wondering what the fuck this was all about. Everything, and I mean everything, was about a girl called Bella. She was my life.

She had creamy pale skin and wavy brown hair that cascaded halfway down her back. It was the softest hair you could ever run your fingers through, and curled down to frame her face perfectly. Her face was gorgeous. Whenever she was embarrassed in the slightest, blood rushed to her cheeks and caused patches of red to spring up; she found her easy-flush irritating, but I had thought that it was the cutest thing in the whole damn world. She had big, deep-set beautiful chocolate brown eyes, framed with lots of long, black lashes, and her eyes truly were the windows to her soul. She was an awful liar and you could read her like a book through the medium of her eyes. They swam with her emotions and only a completely unobservant knob couldn't see when uncertainty of her own feelings clouded her vision. Unobservant knobs like Jacob Black.

I had met Bella when she was seventeen, and I was nineteen. I had been a little lost back then. I had been in a lot of trouble with the police. I had done it all- shoplifting, joyriding, drugs, alcohol, graffiti and arson. I hadn't ever hurt anybody, though. The things that we had set on fire were never important places- you know, sheds, old cars and dustbins. The usual teenage rebellion. I had been to the station where they had called my foster home, and I had done community service, and I had even been to a young offenders unit for a period of time. Okay, I had been more than a little lost.

But then one night had changed my life.

I had been mucking around with my friends on that one night, just knocking about the streets of Forks. We'd had a lot of beer and got quite wasted. Then we had found a cop car and thought it'd be freaking hilarious to set it on fire. Well, it had mostly been James' idea, but we helped him out. We left the car burning and spray-painted rude words on the wall of the house that the cop car sat outside of. Unfortunately, we had been making a little too much noise. The cop, who lived in the house (yeah, no shit Sherlock), had heard us and come out to arrest all twelve of us on the spot. He made us sit outside his home on the ground as he called for more cars to take us to the station.

While he was on the phone though, his daughter had come to see what the commotion was all about. When she had appeared in the doorway, her pretty little face stunned to find her Dad's car on fire and her eyes wide with astonishment, it felt like my heart had jumped out of its chest.

But I didn't get to look at her for very long, let alone speak with her, because her father came and shooed her away. The reinforcements came and we were all taken to the station. We all got different sentences. A lot of lads got off scot-free because CCTV footage showed that they hadn't really been involved. I would have been one of them, but my criminal record got me another six months of community service. It could have been worse though; James and Laurent were arrested and taken to court. I didn't know what had happened there- I hadn't been allowed any contact with them after that incident.

I did the usual kind of community work in groups in Port Angeles; that was shit I knew and had done before. But Chief Charlie Swan (the cop whose car we had set fire to) hadn't thought that enough of a punishment. To prevent him from pressing charges, I did all of the odd jobs he couldn't be assed to do himself. Unusual, I know, but I had no job and no school and it was a good way to waste time without ending up in jail. So I just did whatever Charlie ordered me to. And the things he made me do weren't pretty. They varied from taking laundry to and from the laundrette to fetching his coffee- and he only wanted the good stuff from Port Angeles. I did the works. One day, though, he made the grave mistake of getting me to weed his garden.

I had been there singing and humming to myself as I weeded the garden, simply because doing it by myself was so freaking lonely; I craved company but it wasn't going to come. I was humming one of my old favourites (though not one I ever would have admitted), Clair De Lune, when I had heard footsteps behind me. I had turned and looked up into those beautiful brown eyes.

"Clair De Lune?" she had asked breathlessly.

I had grinned, liking that she knew the song. "Yeah."

Her lips had twitched up until her grin was mirroring mine. "I'm Bella."

"Edward." I had turned back to weeding and, to my intense surprise, she had sat down next to me and started to help, telling me various little things about herself. I was glad. I hadn't asked her to keep me company, but she had sensed that I wanted some. It was like there was already a connection between the two of us; we could both anticipate what the other one wanted before they even knew that they wanted it.

I had stretched out the weeding job as long as I could because she always came out to help me. I learnt a lot about Bella in that time. She went to Forks High School, where I had been – though that was a no-brainer considering the fact that there were no other High Schools in Forks. She had moved to Forks when her Mom, Renée, had wanted to go travelling with her baseball-playing husband, Phil. She liked old classic books, like Jane Austen's collection and Wuthering Heights. She cooked for her Dad every night. She hated attention. She had a bite-shaped scar on her wrist from when a boy had bitten her at junior school. The list went on. They were all equally ordinary things, but they were Bella so I, naturally, found them fascinating.

It became an obsession.

She started trailing me round. We swapped phone numbers and every day I'd tell her what community service I was doing that day by text or call and she'd come and help if she could, or just sit there and talk to me if she couldn't. It was wonderful.

And I hadn't gotten into any more trouble since meeting her. The cops presumed that it was because of my punishment for torching Chief Swan's car, but I knew better.

Then, one day, I had taken her to my special place, the meadow that I went to when I needed to think. And then we had kissed, and somehow fallen into a relationship.

Years passed and we dated in secret; she knew that her father would never approve. She went away to college, but we kept up a long-distance relationship. I got a proper job as a waiter in a restaurant – which I went on to become the manager of – and we spoke everyday. She could have been going off with other guys behind my back but I knew that she wouldn't do that, as she knew that I wouldn't go off with a girl. We trusted and loved each other explicitly.

And then, when we had been officially together for five years, I had proposed to her, begged her to marry me and told her that there was no way in hell that I could live without her. She had been overjoyed and had said yes.

I was all set to run off to Vegas and marry in secret. Bella wasn't completely against the idea – she hated attention, remember? – but she felt like she should tell her Dad. She had thought that he should know that we were in love. I hadn't thought it a great idea but she had insisted that he would understand and I trusted her. So I accompanied her to her old home and together we had told him that we were getting married. That hadn't gone down too well.

Charlie had freaked out big time. He forbade Bella from seeing me again, telling her that I was a scoundrel and couldn't be trusted, or loved. Bella fought with him but he won out in the end and she had given me the ring back and told me that she couldn't marry me if her father didn't approve. She respected his judgement too much.

I had been devastated, naturally, but I respected her decision in turn. I told her that I would always be waiting for her to change her mind and do the right thing, but I hadn't heard from her again. Neither had I pestered her to come back.

At least, not until that one evening. I had remembered that evening every single night since it had ended. My doorbell had rung while I was watching some crappy reality TV show. I had dragged myself off of the couch and been surprised to find Bella at my door, a year after I had last seen her. Her cheeks were tear-stained and her eyes were red.

I had invited her in and she had wordlessly handed me a thick manila envelope. I opened it with an uneasy feeling, and I was right to be wary. It was a wedding invitation.

"You found someone good enough for you then?" I had spat at her.

She had shut her eyes. "Don't start." Her voice had been flat, emotionless and exhausted. She had sounded awful.

"How could you throw away five years like it was nothing?" I had asked.

"How could you not even fight to get me back?" she had shot back.

I hadn't been able to respond to that because I hadn't known the answer myself.

And so she had turned to leave, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I knew that you didn't really care that much," she had whispered.

I had grabbed her. "Bella, I always cared. Always. I didn't want to make you do anything that you didn't want to."

She had shaken me off, and gone. And, just like that, we had thrown it all away. Five years of love and devotion and obsession and adoration. Five years.

And her words ran through my mind every minute of every day: How could you not even fight to get me back?

So I did. I fought harder than I'd ever fought for anything in my life. I'd followed her round, presenting her with gifts, begging her to leave her fiancé. I had a few stand-offs with said fiancé and I was pretty good at rubbing him up the wrong way, which Bella hated.

Eventually, she had told me to stop fighting for her because I wasn't going to win.

The hell I wasn't. I would fucking fight for her until she died.

And that was why I had crashed two weddings in one day. Okay, admittedly, one was the wrong wedding (that had been embarrassing), and the other one – the right one – hadn't even started when I turned up, but I was still there and I was still going to fight for Bella. If it meant a brawl in a place of God then so be it.

So. There I was. Jacob's fist was in the air, ready to beat me to a pulp. And I was stood there, ready to take it. Maybe if I had battle scars Bella would see just how fucking hard I was fighting.

But, before Jacob could do anything, the door opened and a man in a suit poked his head around the corner. "Excuse me?" he said in a hushed voice – why did everyone speak quietly in churches anyway?

"Yes?" Jacob and I said simultaneously, neither one of us moving.

"Um… Well, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a car blocking the driveway? The bride's car can't get to the gate," the man told us. I realised that he was the driver of the 'bride's car'.

"Is it a silver Volvo?" I asked, remembering that I had parked my car right outside.

Jacob's fist still hovered in the air, waiting for the guy to leave.

"Yes it is."

"That'll be my car," I said pleasantly. I dipped my hand into my pocket and then threw him the keys. "Park it wherever. There's something else I'd rather be leaving with than the car." I shot Jacob a meaningful look.

Jacob's jaw stiffened further than it already had.

"Yes Sir." Then the guy left.

As the door creaked shut again, Jacob's fist came down and connected with my jaw. Very fucking hard.

I didn't show any signs of pain, not wanting him to think that he had hurt me, not wanting to give him the satisfaction – although, yes, my jaw throbbed like a motherfucker.

"Are you done yet?" I asked with a resigned sigh.

"No." Jacob landed another punch, this time in the less expected place of my gut, forcing the wind out of me.

I gasped and doubled-up, falling to the ground.

Jacob sneered down at me. "Leave my wife alone."

"She's not your wife," I growled.

But he had already gone.

I hauled myself to my feet and got my breath back before heading back the way that Jacob had dragged me. This time, when I got to the doors of the main room, I could hear the wedding march echoing off of the walls, meaning that the bride was in the room.

I heaved a sigh of relief, and then pushed the doors open, with more force this time. Thankfully, it swung open a little more impressively this time.

"Bella," I said loudly, not bothering with the dramatic crap this time round. Twice in one day was enough.

She stopped halfway down the aisle. She didn't turn, just stopped.

Charlie turned though. "What the hell are you doing here?" he exploded when he saw me.

"It's okay, Dad, I invited him," Bella said in a quiet voice. I heard her sigh from halfway across the room, and then she turned to look at me. She looked so beautiful; an image in white. Her hair was curled perfectly, and her make-up was extravagant. It made my heart ache to realise that she wasn't dolled up like this for me. When her eyes met mine, she said, "What do you want?"

I took a tentative step closer. "Bella, think about what you're doing."

"I'm marrying Jacob," she said. It sounded confident, but I wasn't an unobservant knob. I could tell that the feeling was only on the surface. Like artificial turf covering cement.

"You don't love him," I said softly.


"You don't love him!" I said, louder this time.

"You can't tell me who I do and don't love, Edward." Her voice was steely.

I was fed up of the space between us. I marched forward, sure on my feet, no longer tentative. Then, I brushed Charlie aside, pulling his daughter off of his arm and holding her shoulders gently. "No, I can't tell you," I murmured, "but you know, Bella. I know you do." And then, I reached up and pushed her veil aside. I looked into her eyes, wanting her to stop me if it wasn't what she wanted, but there was no rebuttal in her eyes – so there was no rebuttal in her soul. So, I bent my head and touched my lips to hers.

A gasp went through the audience, but I didn't care. I finally had my Bella back in my arms. My lips moved against hers, soft and romantic but urgent and begging. Hers moved with mine, like she had been starved and I was her food. Like the desert analogy I had given Jacob earlier.

I pulled away and smiled at her. "Please Bella, please. I told you I'm not going to stop fighting."

She shook her head slightly. "I-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Charlie spoke up again. He was livid. "You can't just march in and ruin my daughter's wedding!"

Bella took a deep breath and then turned to him. "Dad. He's not ruining it. He's right."

"What?" Jacob came over then. "Bella, you can't let him do this to us!"

She ignored him, still sending pleading looks to her father. "Please, Dad, I love him."

"It's a bit late to be telling me this, Bells," Charlie said quietly. "You're marrying Jacob."

She looked at Jacob. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jacob's fists clenched. I wondered briefly whether he'd punch me in the middle of the service. But of course he was too good for that. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and then reached over and took Bella's arm, trying to pull her back to him. "What's he done to you, Bells? What's he told you?"

She snatched her arm away from him and stood between us, looking angry. "Nothing! I never wanted this, Jake! That's why you had to propose six times before I said yes!"

"Okay, no wedding, I get it," Jacob returned. "But him Bella?" He looked across at me with disdain. "What about all of the things you said about him?"

"What things were they Jacob?" she challenged stony-faced.

He didn't reply, just scowled moodily.

Bella scowled right back and the church fell into an awkward silence.

"So…" Of course it would be me who broke it. I took a step closer to Bella's side. "What now?"

Bella's gaze moved from Jacob to her father. He met her eyes for a moment before looking at me. Then he sighed and looked back at Bella. "I guess it's up to you Bell. But you know how I feel."

Bella looked backwards and forwards between Charlie, Jacob and me. Then she sighed and addressed the crowd. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to throw away my life without thinking it through first." And then she turned to me. Her eyes expressed things she couldn't say in a room full of people. "And I'm sorry." Her voice was quieter this time, but she didn't say anything more. She thrust her beautiful, big bouquet of flowers into my hands and then gathered her skirts in her own and fled for the door of the church, which I had left open.

I clicked my tongue awkwardly and the noise echoed off of the walls. Could this day really get anymore shitty? Not only had I probably ruined… okay, definitely ruined my best friend's wedding but now I had quite possibly sworn her off of marrying anyone. Definitely not a bastard like me.

I sighed and left the church as well. I didn't go after her, though. I dumped the expensive bouquet in the trash and went to locate my Volvo, gut-wrenchingly disappointed to be going home alone.


I was draped across my sofa, my fingers twisted around the neck of a bottle, my eyes trained on the TV. Another crappy reality show.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I heaved a sigh and got up, trying to quash the anticipation that rose in my chest. Every time the doorbell rang, I got my hopes up, thinking that it'd be her. But it had been two weeks now since I had crashed the damn wedding and I hadn't heard a peep. I almost wished that I had kept the flowers, just so that I knew that it was real; that it hadn't been a dream and Bella had really run off to some sunny country for her honeymoon.

I automatically glanced through the peep hole in the door before remembering that it had cracked when I had slammed the door in some poor unassuming delivery guy's face because he wasn't Bella. So I opened it instead.

This time, I wasn't disappointed.

She stood there, dressed simply in a pair of fitted jeans and a button-down beautiful blue blouse with a low V-neck. The low-cut top wasn't the best thing about her though. Oh no. That was the pull-along suitcase in her right hand. I lifted my gaze to her face and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

But she was staring at me, looking shocked. "What happened to you?" she gasped.

My brow furrowed in confusion.

"Your face…" She reached out to touch me but then hesitated and took her hand back.

I stepped aside and glanced at myself in the mirror that hung in the doorway. My jaw was a fading greeny-yellow colour from when Jacob had hit me. "Oh," I said. "That."

Bella had taken advantage of my momentary distraction to let herself in and close the door behind herself. "Yes, that," she said as she parked her case by the door.

I wondered whether that meant that she'd be staying, or that she was expecting to leave again. I shrugged. "I got punched a few times."

She heard what I couldn't say in my tone. "Jacob."

I snorted and then went back through to my living room, not inviting Bella after me; I knew that she'd follow anyway.

After I had switched off the TV and kicked an empty bottle or two… or maybe three under the couch I turned to see her amble in, looking around and taking everything in.

"Nice place," she complimented awkwardly.

Huh. Of course. She hadn't been there before. "Thanks." I sat down, back in my usual seat, and gestured for her to take any seat she wanted.

She did, taking the armchair. "So," she started, but didn't add anything to her one word.

"So," I said as well. After a pause, I decided to launch into it. "Did you go back to him?"

Bella rolled her eyes and laughed sarcastically. "No."

"Bet your Dad didn't like that."

"He wasn't… happy, no," Bella admitted. She wrung her hands together. "But Jacob's already got a new girlfriend – Leah – so we both got an eyeful of what he's really like."

"I could have guessed that," I muttered with a scowl.

She nodded, staring at the table, but her eyes were unfocused; distant. "He didn't even wait a week." She paused, hesitated, and then looked up at me and asked, "Did you… did you really wait for me for a whole year?"

I couldn't believe that she could doubt that for a single second. "Bella. I'll be waiting for you for every moment of forever."

Her lips twitched slightly, doubtlessly remembering when I had used that phrase to propose to her. Then she sighed. She moved over to the seat next to me and leant into my side.

Reflexively, I reached an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently.



"When you said…" She stopped to take a breath. "When you said that we could go away to Vegas… and that you'd marry me… would you still do that?"

A grin crept onto my face. "Yes. Why?"

She responded by taking a deep breath and then dropping an envelope into my lap.

I shot her a confused glance, and then opened it, tipping the contents into my palm. It was two one-way airline tickets to Vegas. For a moment, I was stunned. Then I murmured, "I can afford return, you know."

"I gathered," she said quietly. "But… oh fuck it, Edward! Let's go away. For a long time. I'm fed up of being controlled by my Dad and by the thoughts that other people have."

I felt that someone had to be the voice of responsibility, so I said, "We can't just up and leave everything. What about my job? My house? My puppy?"

Her eyebrows rose. "You have a puppy?"

"Well… no," I confessed, "but the metaphorical puppy can represent all of the other commitments in my life."

"An extended vacation then?" she begged.

"What about your Dad?"

She sighed, looking deep into my eyes. "You don't want to?"

I sighed as well. "Of course I fucking want to. I just… we can't… you can't…"

"I don't know. I'm a fully grown adult, Edward. I can do whatever the fuck I want without my daddy's permission."

I surrendered with a groan, turning so that she was trapped between my legs. "Fine. An extended vacation it is."

Her face lit up and she beamed at me. "When do we leave?"

"Now," I decided. "I can call my assistant on the plane. Just let me throw some stuff in a suitcase." I got up and went to head to my bedroom.

To my surprise, she followed me. When we were in my room, she grabbed my waist and pulled me back against her, kissing the back of my neck persuasively.

"What are you doing?"

She stood on her toes so that she could whisper in my ear. "A little birdie told me that you haven't forgotten about my… uh… biggest secret." Her tone was thick with implications.

"Fuck," I hissed. I turned round and kissed her right on the lips. "I missed you."

She giggled lightly, and I loved the sound. "I missed you too. I love you."

"I love you back, Miss Swan."

"Make the most of saying that because I fully intend to change it soon."

I beamed against her mouth. "To what?"

"I was thinking Swan-Cullen. Maybe Cullen-Swan… or Cullen-Black; I'd feel mean leaving Jacob out," she teased.

I growled against her lips. "You'll do no such fucking thing, Mrs Cullen." And then I remembered something. I pulled away from her and went over to my bedside desk. I pulled open the top drawer and rifled through it until I found what I was looking for. I withdrew the little black box and turned to her with a grin.

She smiled right back.

I'd already done this once so I wasn't going to repeat myself. Instead I crossed the room, knelt down and took her hand. "Marry me, Bella," I whispered.

She grinned. "This is going to be the shortest engagement ever."

"What are you talking about? I've been engaged for a year. My fiancée just went on an… extended vacation."

Bella's face softened and she stroked my cheek lovingly as I slid the ring on her finger. "I'm sorry. But she's back now."

"And, trust me, she won't be getting away this time." And then I pulled her down on to the floor with me and kissed her. I had been waiting a year for this moment, but hell it was more than worth it.


Phew. Sorry about the length… it just kind of kept going :L

Uh… it's a little different from what I usually write again but hopefully you guys all liked it :)

This is an entry for the Lyrical Contest held by the wonderful Moonlight Studio so thank her for this nonsense ;) There's a link to her profile and the profile with all the deets about the contest on my profile so check it out if you're interested in entering! :)

Please share your thoughts on crass Edward ;) Also, this was supposed to be a little bit funny here and there so let me know if you laughed at any point at all :L

Please review!