Black Fortress
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Author Notes: I set off with the intentions of writing a standalone story to the sound of "Unintended" by Muse, but somewhere along the writing process of this story it strayed to this, and I like this too much to rewrite it. Never fear, I already have an idea in mind to go to "Unintended" with a much, much different background and storyline that I will probably write tonight. : )
As always, reviews are more than welcomed, they are gratefully appreciated. If you don't like it-- hey, I didn't write it for you, I'm just another adoring fan waiting in anticipation for Eclipse to hit the shelves on August 7th. : )
Small Summary: Shortly after Edward's leaving Forks, Bella contemplates herself and the love she had for Edward. Set during New Moon.
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Black: adjective; Offering little or no hope.
Fortress: noun; a fortified defensive structure.
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I surprised myself when I stepped into the bathroom and noticed that it seemed unfamiliar. Bathing had become one of my more lesser prioritized things in life as of late, and every time I stepped into the room it became even more vague.
The water was agonizing. I would never check, but I could be sure that I would have visible marks from the scalding water as it hit my back. I didn't bother to flinch. Somehow, the excruciating degree of ache the water provided seemed all-too-right. I couldn't argue with that. Things that came would be as they were—I would not be the one to change them. If I meddled with anything, it would certainly be of consequence. It would kill me, I think, if I messed something else up, even if it was as simple as the temperature of the water coming out of the shower.
Things could not be anymore difficult. I won't lie.
I had already accepted the fact that he was gone, but I had nonetheless refused to take it gracefully. My reactions were despicable in comparison to how he must be acting. He was happy with his decisions. My apparent plainness effected him more than I could ever fear, but I am still surprised that it took him so long to realize how much I bored him. He was probably out in the world looking for a new girl with more interesting properties that he could love. I certainly did not fall under that category. I never would.
I will never accept the fact that I will never see him again. Even with his sister's transcendental powers of the paranormal, he would never get wind of how amazing I would be if I ever did change. I would still not be good enough to match his flawless characteristics. The beauty of his face, the inhuman cold of his hands, the arduous feeling of his chest—I could not compare. I was a human, and he was a vampire—it did not grow more obvious than that. The dull focus of me had left him long ago, and how he was elsewhere in the world, moving on.
I grew accustom the water. My back eventually succumbed to a numbing sensation provided by the sharp pain of the water. Almost like the relationship I once shared with… well, yes. It was never intended to be anything more than magnificence, and once it reached that point, it would cease to be the wonderful thing it had been. Isn't that how all too-good-to-be-true things end? Undoubtedly.
I wondered briefly how he was, what he was doing. I tore my mind from that subject almost as quickly as it came. Still, I could not help to think about it. He was probably happier. Years would pass, I would grow older… he would not. We were fated for such an ending. His glorious features easily transcended my plain ones. The already simple characteristics of myself would fall to be even worse than they already were, and him? He would continue to be the most astonishing looking thing on the planet. How could I ever hope to be good enough for him?
It's a shame, really. Perhaps that is putting it too loosely. The love I had for him was out of the world. It was unheard of. I would have, quite literally, given my life for him. I begged him, but still—he never agreed. If ever given the opportunity to be turned, I would gladly and without question accept. I would chase him to the ends of the earth and back to be in his arms again. My feeble motives will never change—my love for him will never dull.
It doesn't change the fact, however, that things will only continue to down spiral from here on out. It must be a cruel punishment to Charlie—a punishment for nothing, but knowing him even as little as I do, he will blame himself for everything I do. He shouldn't. It isn't his fault. It is merely the fault of a silly eighteen year old girl who realized only too late that life was too good for her. Things have to change eventually.
I must admit, things weren't spectacular before I met him, but they were decent. It was healthy. I spared more smiles than I do now—my grand total since his departure is zero. Maybe he was right, maybe I was better off without ever meeting him. Yes, I will never deny that the small amount of time I had with him was beyond question the best of my life, but was it worth the terrible atrocity my life seemed to be now? Yes, I suppose. All happiness is accompanied by some sort of difficulty, and this was the worst of them all. Still—I would give anything to have him back. If that were not the case, I would never turn down being happy again. If I could keep the short and small memories I possessed of myself with him, but still had the chance to live the way I had before I met him—I know I would. If not for my sake, at least for Charlie's or Renee's. They have suffered too much on my account, and it is a despicable thing for me to do to them. I can't help myself.
I switched the nozzle off. I would do what I've always done since his leaving—dress before staring in the mirror for hours on end, disgusted with the reflection that looked grimly back. It was not only the appearance I was unhappy with—he would far succeed me in all things, looks being only one of them. His gracefulness I could never match; his agility that would frighten any normal person; his velvet voice that could make my legs tremble; charisma that put me to shame. It was all too good for me.
The moment he met me, I think, he overestimated me. He thought he saw something more than the overwhelming simplicity that is my existence. He thought he could love me strongly—as much as I love him. I still love him, and I will never let go of that feeling. He is the most amazing thing that ever came into my life and, despite the sinister results, I am sickeningly grateful for it. Even the heartbreak—it made me realize how much I do love him. It's too late for this, though—he's gone, and he's never coming back.
Never.