Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Story is produced without profit.
Status: Completed one shot
Summary: He wants her but he'll never tell. She's too precious, too new for an old soul like him.
Her eyes are deep. Soulful pools of brown and never ending depths. He would probably fall right in if he could bear to see the pain in them for more than two seconds.
He wants her but he'll never tell. She's too precious, too new for an old soul like him. Even if she doesn't know it yet. Never has he felt emotion as strong as hers and he knows she gives all she has. In life, in love, in hate and he wants it more than anyone could imagine. He'd take it all; the good and the bad for just for her to see him as a man and not the monster she believes he is. He knows what it's like to bear scars that most can't see and he wants to tell her that she's still beautiful and strong.
He feels her pain and he dreams of taking it away. He thinks he could. Wrap his arms around her and heal a wounded heart. Cloud her mind with a sedated joy until she closes her eyes and sleeps against him. He could sing her lullabies and stroke her hair. Kiss her eyes while she too far into sleep to notice. She'd never have to know that he dreams of so much more.
She's a broken doll, a fallen angel and for the first time in a long time, he believes in heaven. Not for himself, his soul is far too tainted for that, but there has to something better for her. His mind is working against him. Filling up with images of brown skin and cold lips upon it and he sees Edward's sly glances. He would smile if it didn't hurt so much. How can anyone understand?
He knows the true meaning of regret. He mourns every life he's ended; both good and bad because they will always blacken her view of him. Even if she could care, he will always be a man with blood on his hands. She deserves better than that.
He's swirling cold and borrowed emotion and she's not much more than dead leaves on the ground. Blowing round in every which way, trying desperately to settle. He wants to hold her broken heart in his cold, dead hands and he could fix it if he only had the chance. But he never will. She looks at him and sees death and pain. A thief stealing her life and her love.
Her hatred has smoothed into disgust and before he couldn't have imagined that, so maybe there is hope. Maybe one day she'll notice that he's sorry for taking so much from her and that all he wants now is to give it back.