Disclaimer: Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just subjecting them to my mental depravity.
Warning: This story deals with a particular fetish that you might not be comfortable with. If this is the case, feel free to read something else. I won't mind.
In regards to the fetish, I am in no way advocating its practice, or condemning the people who participate. I know there are a lot of misconceptions about these people and I don't mean to offend.
Bella stared at her creation, wondering if she had gone mad.
If anyone knew what she was about to do and where she was about to go, they'd…well…she didn't know what they'd do. Would they just laugh their asses off or avoid her like a horrible plague? Either way, she knew she'd never hear the end of it.
Small towns weren't known for their steady tongues and she knew it would only be a matter of time before everyone knew. There'd be no hope of them ever forgetting either. They were basically a bunch of elephants. Elephants crossed with parrots.
She smirked at that, enjoying the inside joke that only she would understand the humor in.
Maybe she had gone crazy, but she knew she wanted to do this. So she admired it for only a moment longer before slipping it into a garment bag. It was time.
Edward shoved the bag in his trunk, eyes darting around, always paranoid.
He knew it wasn't right. It couldn't be right if he had to hide it like this. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop.
He hated himself for it.
The addiction was bleeding his bank account and he was telling so many lies these days that he knew it was only a matter of time before it all blew up in his face. With these thoughts in mind, he decided that maybe it was time to break the habit.
Tonight would be the last time he did this.
I've been sitting on this for awhile.
I finally gave into temptation.