Hostage of Love
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
This is a collaboration story with my bestie, WolfGirl_JB. She graciously agreed that I post this story under my account and name. *love you, honey*
Characters: Jacob, Leah, Bella
Category: AU, Breaking Dawn
Rating: MA for Adult themes, content and language
A/N: We keep it short and simple, because we know you want to start reading. LOL Okay, this is the first fan fic we're writing as a team. We are very excited to get this baby started tonight, and before we get rolling here's a huge THANK YOU to JUL5857—she's our beta and will be smoothing out any grammar, spelling and comma issues for us.
A/N2, Sept19th, 2012: The unedited version of this story is to be found at Tricky Raven dot ning dot com
My Pillow gazes upon me at night
Empty as a gravestone;
I never thought it would be so bitter
To be alone,
Not to lie down asleep in your hair.
I lie alone in a silent house,
The hanging lamp darkened,
And gently stretch out my hands
To gather in yours,
And softly press my warm mouth
Toward you, and kiss myself, exhausted and weak-
Then suddenly I'm awake
And all around me the cold night grows still.
The star in the window shines clearly-
Where is your blond hair,
Where your sweet mouth?
Now I drink pain in every delight
And poison in every wine;
I never knew it would be so bitter
To be alone,
Alone, without you.
Hermann Hesse, Translated by James Wright
He closes his eyes as the blonde woman moves above him.
Lately, he has a hard time enjoying sex at all. The short moments when he lets go doesn't give him satisfaction anymore. Only a few moments of peace of mind and soothing numbness he is granted and then, he needs to move and leave—feeling all cold inside, unsatisfied, and lonely.
Only seldom, he feels content for some time longer; maybe even falls asleep next to her. Mostly, when the woman he chooses to be his bed fellow resembles the woman he once loved. Be it the color of her hair, the way they talk or just the petite frame of her body that reminds him. He will close his eyes then and imagine it was her that lies under him. It is at these moments, when he can get lost in his emotions and the memories of a girl that never saw more than a friend in him and that chose to marry the other man.
Sometimes, when his fantasies become too vivid, he forgets that he is in bed with another woman. Sometimes, he comes, calling out her name.
Somewhere, miles and miles away, is a woman.
Above her, a man grunts and groans, lost in his desire. She just lies there, watching and contemplating. What is wrong with her? Why can't she enjoy sex like other women?
She doesn't have many men, because sex just isn't what she needs. When she does it, it is out of loneliness, because she needs closeness and the touch of another human being. She chooses her partners wisely; deliberate that nothing will ever remind her of the two men she had once loved.
Her lovers aren't athletes. They aren't copper-skinned or very tall. A man with a temper? No, thank you. Boyish smile or mechanical skills? Not wanted, either. It narrows down her choices to a minimum, but that is okay.
Nevertheless, it happens often enough that a different face than that of her partner appears before her eyes—his face. After all this time, she still vividly remembers his bright smile, his beautiful brown eyes, and his heat. Sometimes, a tiny bubble of lust wells up inside of her, only to disappear quickly as it came, because her bed partner just can't compare to him and isn't what she wants.
She lives a good life so far. She studies successfully. She has some close friends and goes out with them. She doesn't mourn after her divorced husband. The only thing she regrets is marrying him in the first place. Nevertheless, in making this choice four years ago and taking the consequences she has grown stronger.
Today, she is independent and confident, but something – someone –is missing in her life. And in missing him, she feels lonely and as if a huge part of herself is missing.
The man above her finishes and kisses her briefly, sighing satisfied, before falling asleep. She turns her back on him and curls into a tight ball.
His name falls from her lips, softly, unheard, like the teardrops that fall on her pillow.