Two hundred forty-two words in total, not enough to be a drabble, not enough to be a one-shot... So, enjoy my little plot bunny!

Please, please, review! No one ever reviews my stuff, and reviews make me write more/faster

I don't own Twilight

Submissive.

That was the word.

She was asleep on the floor by the door, unwilling to stop her vigil for her long dead lover.

I will come back.

He never did.

But she always sat there, eventually falling asleep, until her days and night were reversed.

All night, she sat there, until the morning's first dull rays appeared, when her pale blue room would fill with the gray light of the mourning sun, and her eyes would finally close.

Did she not realize, that he would send someone to her room, to lift her from the hard stone floor? That it was he that sent someone to place a plate of food outside her door?

Did she not realize that humans like her were usually killed?

Did she not see his dark gleaming eyes watching her intently the few times she left the room?

Did she not know that it was he that saved her neck?

That is was he that kept his brother probing, his wrong, ideas within his sick mind? Did she not know the horrors he had saved her from? That she had been initially placed only steps from the feeding room? That he had her moved far away from the screams?

Did she not know what his brother wanted to do to her? What his brother had wanted to do to her very mind, to her gift?

No, and for this reason alone, she still wept for her dead love.