The Twilight Series belongs to S. Meyer, no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing with the characters.
AN: This drabble for the prologue was inspired by Hermann Hesse's poem, Steps. It was a challenge on JBNP and I still haven't quite learned how to do a O/S so it's being continued.
It was a blustery, cold day. The wind coming off the ocean whipped at her long hair. Shivering, she wished she had dressed warmer.
It seemed that was all she did was wait. A month of agony. Waiting, watching, hoping, praying—it seemed her efforts had been rewarded, or not.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she attempted to warm her icy limbs. She stared at the grey, white-capped waves rolling to shore. She had never felt more adrift, alone, lost.
Even when a pair of warm arms wrapped around her; she didn't move. She knew whose arms those were. The same arms she had found comfort in for the past two weeks.
"Hey," he whispered in her ear. His breath tickled the gentle slope of her neck.
She allowed herself a few more moments of peace, comfort—after today he would never look at her the same. Never hold her like this. Nor direct a soft smile her way.
"We need to talk," she started abruptly as she wrenched out of his arms. Turning, she faced him. Dark eyes meeting dark eyes.
"This can't continue," tears gathered before rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry…we can't…it's wrong…"
A soft sob left her lips as his thumb brushed away her tears.
"Why? I don't understand. He left—did he even tell you where he was," his body and voice trembled with anger.
"It was a mistake…and I can't change what happened…but I can make up for it. He's your friend, too."
"You don't think I know that? It's not easy for me to ask you to choose—to stay with me—knowing that I've betrayed him."
"That's why it has to end now before he finds out," she glanced away guiltily. "He asked me to marry him—I said yes," she finished on a whisper.
His hands clenched into fists. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he gaped at her, trying to understand what she was doing. Why she was doing this—she didn't love him anymore. He knew it with every breath he took; every beat of his heart.
"What happens when he does this again? What then?"
"He won't—he promised," her voice wavered.
"Just like he didn't leave you without a word a month ago," he snarled at her. "You don't have to do this. Not out of some misplaced loyalty to him."
"I'm not…I love him…I want a future with him," she stuttered. "You and I—it's over."
He gazed at her for long moments, "Fine. Have it your way."
The next moment she was watching his retreating form. The cold wind no longer bothered her. Her heart was frozen solid—it would never feel warmth again.
Three months later, their final moment replayed in her mind. He had been right. Sam left her again; only this time it was for her cousin.
It didn't matter she wanted to take it all back—he wasn't hers anymore.
He was Sam's.
FF_8756144_1 12/1/2012 8:45PM