The Twilight 25 by americnxidiot, T - Z
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The Twilight 25 by americnxidiot
The Twilight Twenty-Five
Prompt
: vivid
Pen name
:
americnxidiot
Pairing
: Jasper/Alice
Rating
: T
* ~ * ~ *
For an eternity, he had existed in a world of grays.
The faint human memories were mechanical and violent, snapshots of
life and death in the war-torn south. And though the change had
sharpened his mind, it had done nothing for its vivacity.
In the protection of night, he tracked young vampires.
In the protection of shadows, he let Maria work his body into a lust-
filled frenzy, venom pulsing false heat through his veins.
Still, all was gray.
Then
she
approached him with four simple words, and he noticed color
for the first time.
Her eyes were golden.
Prompt
: jealousy
Pen name
: americnxidiot
Pairing
:
Edward/Bella
Rating
: M
* ~ * ~ *
The night air is crisp with early winter frigidity. The moon wanes
crescent, leaving the ground around me dark. Plus, Forks is sheathed
in heavy clouds that shield me from almost all natural light.
It is the perfect atmosphere for a predator.
Around me, the small town sleeps. A few animals crunch leaves or
ruffle feathers while they doze in the brush. The dreams of humans
hum gently around me, more pictures than coherent thoughts.
And outside of Bella Swan's house, a tree sits alone, the bark coated in
a light frost that clings to its ridges.
I take swift, creeping steps across her lawn. No footprints are left in
my wake. The air remains unclouded around my exhales. My hand
grabs a branch and I can't feel the cold. All are reminders of what I
am. What I am not.
I am a creature of legend, a monster that haunts the minds of
innocents while they sleep. The fact that I'm here only confirms that.
Her blood - her saccharine, heavenly, drugging blood - pushes loudly
through her veins. I can hear each valve as it
lubs
and
dubs
, and the
whoosh
as it cycles throughout her petite body. The closed window
doesn't do much to dim its potency.
And yet, that's not why I'm here.
Fuck
, I wish that was why I was
here. It would be so much easier to handle.
If my fascination with the girl ended with her blood, there would be
two clear endings to this strange situation.
Her pale skin flutters like paper with each heartbeat, and that is how it
would feel to my fingers. She is so fragile. In less than a second, I
could be through her window, oozing skin impaled on my sharp teeth.
Dragging gulps would cascade down my throat until she is cold and I
am more fulfilled than I've ever been in my life.
Or I could admit defeat, separate myself from this torture and leave
her to her life. I have spent eighty years practicing control over my
nature; there is no point in slipping up now. She would grow old as
humans do, and I would continue with my meaningless existence.
But I can't do it. I can't stay away. This isn't about her blood anymore.
Alice would say she knows why I am here, shimmying up the lone tree
to get a glimpse of her face as she tosses and turns. I refuse to even
acknowledge Alice's opinion on the matter. She can't be right. It's
absolutely absurd that I can… love at all, let alone a human whom I
barely know. It's not in my nature.
And yet… here I sit, just like every night for the last week.
Bella is not yet asleep, her heart rate too high and her breaths too
unsteady. Through the window, I see her laying prostrate on her
unmade bed. A book rests on her lap -
Persuasion -
which seems far
too stiff for a girl of her spirit. It's also pretty clear that she's read it
before. But her eyes are unmistakably bright as she scans over the
worn pages.
I don't approach her, though the pull is certainly there. The room
would be drenched in her scent. I could sit in the empty rocking chair
and enjoy the way her heart raced when I smile at her. But I have yet
to sink that low. Watching her without her knowledge is bad enough.
She is so innocent, and I'm no better than a depraved stalker.
I'm captivated by her expressions. Something crosses her mind,
making her eyes slightly unfocused. She is no longer paying attention
to her book. My hand slides into up into my hair, and I pull. I need to
know what she is thinking. That void alone is enough to drive me
insane with curiosity.
Bella carefully folds down the corner of her current page, recreasing a
line that she'd formerly attempted to smooth out, and then snaps the
book shut. She sets it sloppily on her nightstand and switches off her
light, lying down as if she were preparing to sleep.
But she doesn't sleep.
Something is off.
Instead of curling up her slim legs and wriggling under her blankets
like she did on other nights, she just stays still above the covers. Her
shorts reveal an expanse of skin I haven't seen before. Her ratty shirt
is thin enough that I can make out the outline of her flat stomach, her
waist, her breasts. My pointless breaths come slightly quicker, and I
feel a pleasant ache in my lower stomach as I watch her.
She's…beautiful. God, I'm disgusting.
Bella lifts a hand from her stomach to feel around her collarbone. Her
fingers dust along her skin, just slipping below the neckline of her
shirt. The movement is so casual and unthinking, just a simple brush
of skin against skin. I ache to be able to touch her like that.
And I can't even berate myself for that thought. I will flog myself later.
Right now, I can only watch in awe. I'm in awe of her.
Suddenly her hands change course. Her thumb traces a slow line from
her neck to her navel, dipping between her now pert breasts, and then
back up again. She repeats the cycle one more time, this time circling
over her right nipple on the way up. Her stomach clenches slightly
when her nails grazes the erect flesh, and I can't contain my gasp.
Bella Swan is touching herself, and I'm watching.
I need to look away. This is possibly the most despicable thing I've
ever done, but I am hypnotized by her. She draws me in like no one
else.
Her legs fall barely apart as she touches her breast in earnest. A small,
contented sigh escapes her mouth, and I have never been so envious
of a hand in my life. I feel as if I am meant to possess her, to claim
her body and blood. She
should
be mine, even if she never will be.
Right now it's hard to remember that.
Bella brushes two fingers along her lips,
my
lips, and moistens the tips
with a quick flick of her pink tongue. One hand continues to softly
knead her breast while the other moves purposefully down her
stomach. She pauses at the hem of her shorts, tracing along the
smooth skin with a cautious hand, and then moves beneath the fabric.
Her legs part wider, her hips scoot down the bed, and the most
beautiful noise of pleasure echos around the still space.
She is perfection.
Sheer perfection, and it feels like my heart is coming to life again with
each movement of her hands. My pants stretch tightly from the visual
stimulation. I am breathing embarrassingly loud, barely in control of
my own body anymore. After eighty-seven years of drifting along, I
am finally waking up.
Mine
, my body screams.
This completely foreign sensation takes over me, anger and sorrow
and arousal and desperate need, and it nearly makes me shake with
its intensity.
Jealousy
, something I never expected to feel.
I can't have her, I can't. And I know this. We are worlds apart. If I
tried to feel her and lost control even for a second, she could be
crushed, broken,
killed
by my hand. It's not worth the risk. She will
never be mine to hold.
But god, do I want her to be. I can't deny it any longer.
I should be the one touching her, drawing quiet moans from her lips
while her body quivers below me. I should place kiss after crushing
kiss on her lips, completely swept away by the feel of her warm flesh.
We should move together as lovers do, pushing and grasping deep into
the night.
It's so easy to get caught up in the fantasy. I can imagine that I am on
the other side of that window with her, that I belong in her bed, in her
life… but I don't.
I never will.
A feeling of cold acceptance washes over me, replacing passion with a
serious sadness. The air is punctuated with Bella's breathy moans as
she squirms on the bed, but I don't respond as I did earlier. Bella is
the one bringing herself pleasure, not me. She will grow and live.
Other men will see her as I do now, and she will let them.
The vampire world and the human world will continue to parallel
without intersection.
And I will be alone for the rest of eternity.
Suddenly, Bella gasps sharply as her legs begin to shake, her back
arching off the mattress and her mouth parting with ecstasy.
Her quiet voice forms coherent words for the first time all night...
"
Oh god
, Edward."
...and my frozen heart stops again.
Prompt
: awkward
Pen name
: americnxidiot
Pairing
:
Edward/Bella
Rating
: M
* ~ * ~ *
We ran up to his room together, laughing quietly and touching often. I
couldn't seem to stop myself from reaching under his arms and
dragging my nails down his chest, even though it made maneuvering
the stairs much more difficult. He groaned when I scratched over his
nipples, and I found myself pressed against the wall in a flash, his
mouth pressing frantically against my own.
I kissed him back excitedly for a few seconds, then pushed him away
with my own groan.
"Bedroom. Now."
Edward tried to reach for my hand, but just ended up grabbing my
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