Loving these forbidden femslashes. Bella is one bad girl. I know she had a little thing for her. It would have been hot as fuck. Inspired by: No Lie by Wet. Anyway. Enjoy!

I wake up every morning with a feeling of dread. It's like I know that I'm going have to play a role today. I will have to pretend that I'm in love with him. I will have to pretend that his hands don't burn me. That his lips don't feel like desecration. That his promises of love don't make my stomach heave.

He tells me that I'm beautiful so I tell him that I love him. It's fire on my tongue.

My biggest fear is that one day the words that scratch at the back of my throat will spill free. They will be red and raw like my tongue.

They will burn and sizzle as they slide forth.

Everyday is a chore. I wish he and his family would have stayed away.

Truth

I hate going to his house. She can't find me here but she's everywhere I look. Red.

It disappears around the side of the house. Creeps up the stairs in the corner of my eye. She haunts me while I'm sleeping and while I'm awake. I wonder if she is real sometimes.I reach my fingers out to touch her bloody lips and she takes them into her mouth. Her tongue doing that thing I love so much.

I'm real, she whispers.

Red eyes searing my muddy ones. It makes my face hot and my fingers itch. All of this is a game to her because she knows what she's doing.

What doesn't she know?

Her fingers linger on my back as she zips up her present. She calls the dress a present but I call it an excuse. There's always an excuse for her to touch me. I shiver under her ministrations and scold myself as she laughs. She always wants a reaction. I think she likes it more than blood.

When her hands turn me around she's giving me that look again. The one that tears open all my insecurities like gashes. I struggle to stare back without blushing. When I succeed it's bittersweet.

If I don't give her reactions I don't get my fix. She's like my drug. I give her stuttered responses and blushing smiles. Sometimes pleading in the darkness. In return, she fulfills my sick fantasies with creeping fingers and secret smirks. I want to rip it off her face.

A lie.

Everything is just fucked up.

She's supposed to be my enemy. My murderer. The person that I want to see burn and ripped into a thousand tiny pieces.

Like me.

Instead she's my dirty secret. She's my moan in the darkness. A hand in my pants under the table. Sharp nails down my back. I want to see her eyes roll back. Her hair splayed on my pillow like a puddle of blood.

Memories flood my mind as I kiss Edward.

I wish he would erase her touch and make everything better. Show me that she's not the best and I should stop putting her on a pedestal. That her tongue doesn't hold the secret. That her fingers don't work miracles.

A lie

He won't. He's weak like the teenage boy he is inside. His hands fumble in the darkness with restlessness. He has no idea what I want. If I showed him he would surely leave me. That would be better in the end. Maybe she would leave me alone.

It didn't stop her last time, my mind laughs.

Her head moves sensually under the covers making my eyes roll back. I let my fingers explore her silky hair. It's so soft between my fingers. So many curls. Her tongue swirls expertly. Just the way I like it.

Our conversations always end with moans that look like exclamation marks and nails that make questions marks on each other's skin.A moan in the darkness.I remember the first time she snuck into my room.

Lips the color of red wine. Hair like the flames of hell. I had never noticed the way her body curved this way and that way. The way her voice was so innocent. It made me wet and scared. "I thought of something better than killing you," she purred. I didn't have the chance to scream or cry. All I could do was whimper and moan.

I loved it when she choked me. I never feared that she would break my neck. I craved it. She used to put enough pressure to leave bruises. She barely strangles me now that the Cullens are back. It's disappointing. I wish they would leave but then again I don't. This game is more fun when I have to hide. More painful.

Truth

I feel out of place lounging around with the Cullens. It feels as though I am not meant to be here. I would rather be at home. Waiting on my serial killer.

Alice is always giving me searching looks. I know she knows. I purposefully decide to do things that involve her just to see if Edward notices.

Whatever witchcraft Alice does to hide her visions works miracles. I stare back at her challengingly. She winces. I've changed.

I'm falling into an abyss when Edward says he smells her scent in my room. I lie and tell him that I don't know what he's talking about.

You should have been more careful, she says scowling.

As I scratch the red welts on my shoulder blade I wince. He narrows his eyes at me but I swiftly pull him into a kiss. The kind he doesn't know how to handle. I've learned to control him with things he doesn't know how to deal with. I pick myself up before I hit the bottom everytime. He leaves uncomfortably hard. I laugh in the darkness.

I silently wonder if vampires can have E.D.

I take a lot of showers now. It started out as washing her from my skin. I always feel her hands leaving track marks on my body hours after she is gone.

Her venom tingles on my neck as I run my fingertips over it. My showers are always cold now. It started out as a way to cool down. Now it helps me shake her hold on me. Just enough to pretend for another day.

All my dreams are filled with puddles of blood on my pillow and red eyes rolling back. She is an abyss. A black hole that is stained red with my blood. I wish she would have stuck to killing me. Maybe then I wouldn't have become this addict. Itching for another hit.

Maybe everything wouldn't be so Red.

A lie.