storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-28 02:11 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-01-28 02:11 pm
If Death Be Not Division (Edward/Bella)
Title: If Death Be Not Division
Length: 392 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
twilightkink: Edward takes out his frustrations on Bella; ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days_exchnge: 13. if death be not division
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Other: PG-13 for sex
Excerpt: Edward knows that Bella is his life; he doesn't see how he could be someone else's life. He's just Edward, he's already dead.
He worries about her too much. She's clumsy and she's confused and she's a little ditzy. She's his Bella, his Bella, even though the boys flock 'round. But sometimes, he gets a little stressed.
She knows what to do when he's stressed-- she sees the small lines around his eyes, and then she worries about him, which is something he's never quite understood. Edward knows that Bella is his life; he doesn't see how he could be someone else's life. He's just Edward, he's already dead.
She doesn't know how to convince him that she loves him most of anything-- she says it over and over, and he believes her, but she knows that there is a tiny kernel of doubt wedged into his heart, and she just can't fix it. He'll have to fix it himself.
So she shows him how she loves him sometimes, pressing kisses into the curve of his neck until Alice offers to take the baby and they sneak up to bed. He relieves his frustrations onto her, into her, breathing and groaning and holding nothing back, since he doesn't have to anymore. She isn't quite the girl she used to be-- she's as dead as he is, now-- but he doesn't mind so much now that he can bite and scratch and pound and shriek and know that she will be alive in the morning.
He cannot give her another child; he cannot give her the rest of her adulthood; he cannot give her anything but himself and he doesn't understand why that's all she wants. But her harsh breaths and flushed face drives him wild. How had he resisted the call of womenflesh for so long? Only because he'd never met her before, he thinks. It is her body that sings to him in response, hers alone.
He always drops into her mind a little when she comes and drops the shields, and her adoration never fails to provoke his own climax, a huge heavy sigh. They just breathe together for a moment before he curls up next to her, his frowning face and sour mood eased for the moment.
One of these days, maybe he'll realize what he means to her, and then he'll worry even more. But at least it's a reason to be alive.
Length: 392 words
Prompt:
twilightkink: Edward takes out his frustrations on Bella; 31_days_exchnge: 13. if death be not divisionPairing: Edward/Bella
Other: PG-13 for sex
Excerpt: Edward knows that Bella is his life; he doesn't see how he could be someone else's life. He's just Edward, he's already dead.
He worries about her too much. She's clumsy and she's confused and she's a little ditzy. She's his Bella, his Bella, even though the boys flock 'round. But sometimes, he gets a little stressed.
She knows what to do when he's stressed-- she sees the small lines around his eyes, and then she worries about him, which is something he's never quite understood. Edward knows that Bella is his life; he doesn't see how he could be someone else's life. He's just Edward, he's already dead.
She doesn't know how to convince him that she loves him most of anything-- she says it over and over, and he believes her, but she knows that there is a tiny kernel of doubt wedged into his heart, and she just can't fix it. He'll have to fix it himself.
So she shows him how she loves him sometimes, pressing kisses into the curve of his neck until Alice offers to take the baby and they sneak up to bed. He relieves his frustrations onto her, into her, breathing and groaning and holding nothing back, since he doesn't have to anymore. She isn't quite the girl she used to be-- she's as dead as he is, now-- but he doesn't mind so much now that he can bite and scratch and pound and shriek and know that she will be alive in the morning.
He cannot give her another child; he cannot give her the rest of her adulthood; he cannot give her anything but himself and he doesn't understand why that's all she wants. But her harsh breaths and flushed face drives him wild. How had he resisted the call of womenflesh for so long? Only because he'd never met her before, he thinks. It is her body that sings to him in response, hers alone.
He always drops into her mind a little when she comes and drops the shields, and her adoration never fails to provoke his own climax, a huge heavy sigh. They just breathe together for a moment before he curls up next to her, his frowning face and sour mood eased for the moment.
One of these days, maybe he'll realize what he means to her, and then he'll worry even more. But at least it's a reason to be alive.