Isabella Marie Swan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yesthatbella) wrote2010-11-10 12:11 am
yesthatbella) wrote2010-11-10 12:11 am
[La Push: March 2006 -- for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
themidnightson]
Bella couldn't sit still. Jacob and the others were tracking Victoria, and she'd done nothing but hide, here and occasionally, when the door allowed, at Milliways.
The hole in her chest was back, the hollow pain taunting her, getting its revenge for those few times she'd been able to chase it back. Too many constant reminders: the wolves, Victoria -- all of it circling around her life and missing the piece that would make it all fit. She hadn't been lying in her note to Alice -- she couldn't do this alone. But it wasn't fair to drag anyone else in, either. Maybe it wasn't even fair of her to want Edward back -- she had no reason to think he was anything other than happy to be free of her.
No reason, except those brief glimpses in which he seemed -- it was surely just her imagination, but she'd swear he seemed different. Strained, somehow. Maybe purely because the last time she'd seen him face to face, he'd been angry with her. Maybe she was letting that color the flashes of memory that her brain managed to call up in times of stress. Maybe she just couldn't bear to imagine him happy without her, because it would make her weak and pathetic for still needing him this badly. Badly enough to put herself in danger just for those glimpses that she paid dearly for once the adrenaline wore off and she had to face another night of screaming nightmares.
It was stupid of her to have expected anything to happen this morning. She'd thought, with the danger of Victoria looming, and Jacob gone -- she'd hoped for something. A word of caution. She was terrified that she was already starting to adjust -- that she wouldn't be able to trick her brain into rewarding her with his imagined presence any longer.
She walked all the way up to the cliffs, half of her terrified for Jacob -- she didn't know what she'd do if something happened to him -- and the other half trying not to suffocate under the weight of all of the above pressing in on her. She breathed in the cool air at the cliff's edge, barely conscious of having come this far until she could see the cliffs' edge up ahead, and the path that would take her out to the spot where Sam and the other boys had been diving from that day.
She wondered if Jacob would keep his promise when he got back. The freedom of falling was so tempting -- she'd be able to forget, just for a few seconds, and maybe she'd be rewarded with another of the flashes. If she shut her eyes and tuned out the crashing of the waves below her, she could almost, almost imagine what the furious, velvet voice would sound like in her ear. She'd already walked this far, and there was no sign of the theoretically safer path down to the lower ledge. And, if Bella were totally honest with herself, she had never possessed any intention of settling for the lower drop, anyway.
The clouds were dark and heavy in the sky, already well beyond the mere threat of rain. The wind had already whipped up the waves below into a mildly choppy mess that was certainly going to make for a cold landing.
This was stupid -- incredibly stupid, and Bella knew it. Still, she didn't hesitate until she was right at the edge. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, waiting, fear dissolving under a hopeful sort of elation.
The hole in her chest was back, the hollow pain taunting her, getting its revenge for those few times she'd been able to chase it back. Too many constant reminders: the wolves, Victoria -- all of it circling around her life and missing the piece that would make it all fit. She hadn't been lying in her note to Alice -- she couldn't do this alone. But it wasn't fair to drag anyone else in, either. Maybe it wasn't even fair of her to want Edward back -- she had no reason to think he was anything other than happy to be free of her.
No reason, except those brief glimpses in which he seemed -- it was surely just her imagination, but she'd swear he seemed different. Strained, somehow. Maybe purely because the last time she'd seen him face to face, he'd been angry with her. Maybe she was letting that color the flashes of memory that her brain managed to call up in times of stress. Maybe she just couldn't bear to imagine him happy without her, because it would make her weak and pathetic for still needing him this badly. Badly enough to put herself in danger just for those glimpses that she paid dearly for once the adrenaline wore off and she had to face another night of screaming nightmares.
It was stupid of her to have expected anything to happen this morning. She'd thought, with the danger of Victoria looming, and Jacob gone -- she'd hoped for something. A word of caution. She was terrified that she was already starting to adjust -- that she wouldn't be able to trick her brain into rewarding her with his imagined presence any longer.
She walked all the way up to the cliffs, half of her terrified for Jacob -- she didn't know what she'd do if something happened to him -- and the other half trying not to suffocate under the weight of all of the above pressing in on her. She breathed in the cool air at the cliff's edge, barely conscious of having come this far until she could see the cliffs' edge up ahead, and the path that would take her out to the spot where Sam and the other boys had been diving from that day.
She wondered if Jacob would keep his promise when he got back. The freedom of falling was so tempting -- she'd be able to forget, just for a few seconds, and maybe she'd be rewarded with another of the flashes. If she shut her eyes and tuned out the crashing of the waves below her, she could almost, almost imagine what the furious, velvet voice would sound like in her ear. She'd already walked this far, and there was no sign of the theoretically safer path down to the lower ledge. And, if Bella were totally honest with herself, she had never possessed any intention of settling for the lower drop, anyway.
The clouds were dark and heavy in the sky, already well beyond the mere threat of rain. The wind had already whipped up the waves below into a mildly choppy mess that was certainly going to make for a cold landing.
This was stupid -- incredibly stupid, and Bella knew it. Still, she didn't hesitate until she was right at the edge. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, waiting, fear dissolving under a hopeful sort of elation.
no subject
And then, then it'd all be gone again. Cloudy.
Murky insubstantial. His mind losing cohesion.
He struggled against it. Against loosing everything.
Except that she would be there. In the insanity beyond.
Not real. Not right. But real enough, almost clear enough.
Almost enough to let go of reality for what still mattered.
The way she stood him now, as he opened his eyes slowly. As though he could tired, could be seeing from so far away, when she seemed feet away. All of him so thin and still and not here. With her back to him as she stared beyond a cliff.
With a set to her shoulders he knew too well.
"Bella." Her name escaped him, as he was suddenly feet closer.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)