[Disclaimer] SM owns everything Twilight

[A/N] Hello everybody, this story has been in my head for such a long time and now I'm finally starting to write it down. I don't promise anything concerning updates because you all should know by now how easily my weird mind tends to get distracted.

This story will have two parts. The first one is from Bella's POV, the second one from Alice's. Chapters will be short but many. Hope you'll enjoy.

I suggest watching the trailer I made for this fic to get you into the right mood. Just remove the ()

http(:/)www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v(=)GazlRWQKHxA

Prologue

I remember how one of her ebony-colored curls used to fall into her forehead all the time no matter how often she used to fix it with pins and other stuff. She was a little bit vain in a cute kind of way – back then.

To me her hair always was pretty the way it was. Sometimes it's almost as if I can still feel its silkiness on my fingertips although it seems to be such a long time ago since I touched it the last time.

Her cheeks used to turn into the most magnificent shade of crimson when I did that, making her face look twice as beautiful as it already was.

I remind myself that she's still gorgeous; in fact she's absolutely perfect and flawless now. Still, I'm trying my best to keep the memory of her other face in my mind, to memorize the little imperfections, like the little jagged scar on her chin. It's her imperfections I miss the most.

Here inside my head is the only place where her human face exists. There are no photos and I'm terribly afraid that I could forget one of the tiny details.

The way her brown eyes used to look like or how she licked the skin on her bottom lip all the time when she was nervous.

She still has this habit and the urge to swirl my own tongue over hers is almost unbearable at some times. But I know that although her mouth looks the same it definitely wouldn't feel the same.

It wouldn't be warm and soft but cold and hard like marble. Not that this knowledge makes me want to kiss her one tiny bit less.

The memory of me and her is painful for me, like constantly putting salt on a fresh wound but still I can't stop thinking about it.

Remembering our time together is all I have left and I hope that somehow, at some point in my life, no matter how short or long it will be it will be enough.

And so, I try to welcome both the joy and the pain that comes with the memories.

I have to remember – for she can't.

XOXOXXOX

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