AN: Because I felt like it, and who doesn't love crack pairings?

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Because

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It's because of the way she makes me feel.

It pours through me and makes me want to morph and destroy her little marble neck. It looks delicate—it'd probably hurt my jaw to bite. But I can't anyway—Bella would hate me forever. I don't know if I could handle that. I just don't know.

It's because of the way she looks at me.

Her nostrils flare and she pretends that she even needs to breathe. I know she doesn't; she knows she doesn't. She does it for lack of better things to do. I wish she wouldn't—I hate pretenders almost as much as I hate her kind. I hate people who are fake; Bella is never fake.

It's because of the way she speaks to me.

She makes me feel inferior—like I'm some lesser being or something. Like I'm an idiot. Like she thinks I can't understand a word she says just because I'm of a different species. She laughs and I want to break the smile on her lips because her kind don't deserve to laugh. She only deserves to weep because she is neither human nor a part of the pack; she is inferior no matter what Bella tries to tell me.

It's because of the way she acts around me.

Like I'm out of control—untamed. She's always tense; always. She thinks that at any given moment, I'm going to be ready to just—snap. Like I won't be able to stop myself, like there's going to be an accident, like she thinks she's too perfect to not make one herself. There have been many almost-accidents on Bella because of her kind, and none caused by my kind.

It's because of the way she smells.

Disgusting. Horrible. It makes me want to coat her in blood, because that's a slightly more appealing scent. It makes me want to cover it with something better—something like Bella, who smells so sweet and natural and beautiful. Not at all like the bloodsuckers that she's so infatuated with; not at all like her.

It's because of the way she makes others happy.

She hates me—I know. I know she does. But others—Bella. She makes Bella happy. She makes Bella smile and then she smiles and they're pretty and together and I just can't stand her. I'm supposed to be the one to make Bella happy—not some bloodsucker. I can't be mad about it—but I hate that she does it.

It's because of the way she helps people.

Saved others—Bella. She's saved Bella when I wasn't there. Letting her and Bella be alone together—I hate it. I hate it. But—it happens. It does. And I have to live with it because it happens and I can't stop it. She keeps Bella safe—from everyone. I have to thank her, even though she should leave the saving for me.

It's because of the way she makes my heart beat.

Bella doesn't do this to me either—so fast and so strong and so much anger and frustration because I know that in another time and place, there might not have been hatred. She makes it speed up so often and I know she hears it—because she smiles in that same way that makes me want to rip her lips off. My anger and my frustration and—everything. It just makes my heart speed up. It's not her, I swear it.

It's because of the way that she's not Bella.

Bella is—amazing. She makes me feel great (not angry, like that bloodsucker). She looks at me like I'm important (not like I'm trash). She talks to me like I'm intelligent (not an idiot). She's comfortable around me (not like she doesn't trust me to be in control). She smells fantastic (not like the horrible reek of their kind).

(… And to be honest, I'm not sure which I prefer.)

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AN: Like I said—who doesn't love crack pairings? It just had to be written someday—and I'm certainly not sorry I wrote it! I love both Alice and Jacob, and personally think that Jacob is too good for Bella. That's not to say that I disrespect people who like Bella or anything—I have my opinion, but I can respect yours. (And expect you to respect mine in return.)

Enough rambling! Hope you enjoyed. : )

I own the soon-to-be-gone Toblerone chocolate bar that I've been savouring for like five days now. But! I don't own Twilight. That, my friends, belongs to Stephenie Meyer. : )