So, I could probably read through this, tighten it up, rework it...get it beta'd (uh, sorry V, Vi). But I'm not gonna'.
It just is what it is; this is a glimpse at my idea of Bella, to Edward.
Disclaimer: These words are mine. Twilight is not.
Song: Jezebel, Iron and Wine:
Shark toothed spun.
I was just…me.
That shy, blushing understanding woman.
A tinge of want.
A hint of growl.
His cowlick worked like the red-dread of his lips.
For a hundred years.
I wasn't really here.
Born to be his?
I closed my eyes and walked around and came back to the dynamite of his irises.
Born to be mine.
You are for me, only…ever.
Twisted willow and tines of carving forks sliced into me.
Baying clip-clops called my heels to stop.
Don't hate me, Bella.
"I have never loved."
"I have waited."
"The years I've squandered will never entomb me."
"I don't want you to die."
"You hated me."
"Never," his shameless pence-piece-hair shook and the quiver of his body was aimed, like an arrow, always towards me.
"I loved you too much."
I'd let you go, I'd give you life, my own brand of death…everything, nothing.
All of it subsumed me like the timeless nebula.
Teacups crusted over as time halted.
The refrigerator whined and winged open upon ice floes from the unkempt freezer.
Vilified, Edward, reached through the fast forward of time and drew me back to the garden where freedom hung.
Where fruit ripened.
Where we could be.
Under eaves and limbs and bowers, forever.
"Don't do this alone, don't leave me, don't bleed me and make me the burning man."
I paved the stones beneath my arches and climbed atop a cliff and lit a candle and watched it blow against the wind whose breath spoke of my death.
I lit it again, and sheltered its glow from the robust sleet.
I could give up everything.
I could give him all of me.
I was so young.
Heavy pads unlike his normal fallow treads fashioned over granite crumbles as he fragilely lifted hands—that could kill—gently to me.
You shouldn't have to ask.
I looked over the edge and hedged a bet with my vertigo…and Edward. Just let me go, let me drop. Let me die, like this right now.
"No." He hurried silently to me and wrestled me back until my spine took a clamorous sanctuary inside the curtain of his arms and his legs and his excruciatingly beautiful face angled just so, to my cheek.
"You cannot die."
"I'm not right."
"I'll let you, Bella," he tore a breath from the phosphorescent sky and inclined and painfully declined and uncrooked from around me, "But I will follow you."
I don't want to die, not like this.
A gust of storm-trodden wind whipped against me and knocked me to the monumental edge between this life, and this death.
Clambering against landsliding rocks, I beckoned him to me.
Would he? Would he give this all up?
I cradled the coolness of his fingers to mine.
I tried to mine his thoughts, just as he did to me.
All I needed to know was right there, in his lambent, ocher-gold-coal dust irises.
If you fall, I will too.
Am I beautiful?
The escape from this life, which without him would be a toppling vacuum, made me ask.
"Like the universe."
I crept forward, slipping and sliding, but I wouldn't be helped off this precipice.
His hands reached, but he didn't touch.
Edward's bottom lip trebled, but he stood back.
I looked over the rugged wish of stones, the drop so sheer.
Roiling waves troubled and crashed in currents of foamy white, leagues underneath.
I walked to him.
Edward watched, ingesting every rock that rolled beneath my soles.
I was against him!
His supernatural timidity worried me.
"Don't," I demanded, pushing him to the cold, mossy, misty landscape.
"Don't ever doubt my love for you," I wrapped him all over me, pulling up his hands and his hips and his lips…to kiss…to thaw.
With each suck and thickened thrown away woolen scarf and starving glance, we denuded each other.
Wind whipped and made us that much tighter.
"I love you so much."
It could have been both of us.
Gently peeling, savagely repealing the terrified be-not-be off of each other as fabric dashed aside in scattered clouds of white and wind and indigo.
My back punched unto stone.
He turned us both so I lay above him and his firm form shored me up.
I cupped Edward's face, and memorized the mighty look of incredible love that made his mouth starve open and his throat ridge and his eyes shunt down between us, where we joined.
Waiting, no longer.
His fingers didn't dally and his lips never left me from my neck to my ear to my shoulders to my nipples as I gained on him.
"Please." He split his knees and my legs apart as the sky horrored from roseate dusk to untold nightness.
Crawling and begging, both of us, we dusted off the geodes of rainspots and came together.
I released over Edward, rolling, holding him by his hips and thighs, then his chest, throat, mouth…frowning in frustrated need for evermore.
Inside me, he beat and pulsed and laved his own music, staccato. I drove up, and down, like a fallen angel and met his eyes and made out with my being to his body.
I looked behind to see his gorgeous cock slick with me, sliding so erotically, completely, inside-outside.
His face caved and his body arched and his muscles tripped and he glanced away from orgasm after orgasm as they each catapulted me closer, closer, closer over him.
"God! Bella!" Edward's throaty call shook out my own fourth shockwaves and sheared through the buttressed crescent moon until it hung like nothing more than a dust mote in the domed sky.
Pelting streams of coolness dripped, drove, rode inside me and I was bucked up and bent back and held tight and crazily crying-laughing-beating-being.
The hazy rain warped my sight.
The mountainous man beneath me cooled me, coddled me, clothed me, took me home.
I would be his, always.
Inside his room, the previous night's gloom was festered off.
"I'm yours, Bella, only ever yours."