Romanticvamp Week 9 Entry: He Was Here

Romanticvamp
Tuesday





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Romanticvamp's Choice: Picture 2


Title: He Was Here


Isabella Swan – July 2010

I dumped the rest of the dirty water out into the empty planter. Wiping my hair out of my eyes, I turned to my now clean car, smiling. It was still early-ish and I had washed my car. I felt accomplished. Now I just needed to change the oil.

My smile faded at that thought.

I quickly put away all the soap and threw the rags in the washing machine before grabbing the new containers of engine oil and filter. I went back outside, grabbing the water bucket and replacing it in the garage. I hesitated over the oil bucket, glancing at the covered table in the back corner.

Do I want to do this?

I took a step toward it.

Isabella Swan - April 2004

I flew down the stairs at the sound of the knock, my heart beating double time at the possibility of who I thought it was. Charlie looked up from his paper, a scowl on his face. I simply shrugged at him and pulled the door open.

“Hi,” I breathed.

Perfection smiled down at me. He took my face in his hands and crashed his lips to mine hungrily. I clung to him, reveling in the feel of his soft lips caressing mine. It was always like this, the passion and the adoration and pure, selfless love.

He pulled back, flashing me his crooked grin. “Hi.”

I tugged him inside, his emerald eyes dancing with joy as I shut the door behind him. He greeted my father and got a grunt in response. I hesitated in the living room, watching Charlie on the couch. With a shrug, I pulled him up the stairs to my room.

“Bella,” Charlie warned.

“We’ll keep the door open!” I called.

I heard his musical chuckle behind me. I hesitated briefly in front of my closed door before steeling myself and flinging the door open. I let him go before me. He stepped in and took in his surroundings with an amused expression on his face.

I should’ve been nervous letting him see my room for the first time, but I wasn’t. Maybe with any other boy, but not him. I watched him stroll slowly around, looking at the random knick knacks I had collected and the pictures I had hung on the walls. He reached my desk, glancing at it briefly and doing a double take. He bent down closer, his eyes narrowing. A huge smile broke across his face. I flushed.

“Um . . . that is . . . really old . . .” I stammered as he ran his fingers across the surface.

He beckoned me to his side. We both stood staring down at the wood top of my desk where multicolored inscriptions had been left by myself, Angela, Jessica, and Lauren, old memories from childhood sleepovers and play dates when we were all friends.

Angela was here.

I love M.N. – Jessica

Friends forever.

I smiled at them, tracing the heart outline we had made with all our names. I missed them. Angela and I were the only ones who were still genuine friends.

“Do I get a spot on here?” he murmured against my neck, pulling my body into his.

“Of course.”

He chose my favorite green sharpie, almost the same color as his eyes, and found the biggest blank space he could. He began writing, blocking his elegant script from my curious eyes with his shoulders. I waited behind him, dancing from foot to foot. When he finally finished and stepped back, I eagerly looked to see what he had written.

Isabella Swan
I promise to love you every moment of forever. My heart belongs to you. Always.
Edward Cullen

I launched myself at him. He just barely caught me and we tumbled back onto my bed.

“I love you, Bella.”

“I love you, Edward.”

We spent the afternoon cuddling, promising each other forever, stealing heated, gentle kisses. If there had ever been a moment I wanted to be stuck in forever, this was it. I was safe in his arms, loved and wanted. He was mine and I was his. Forever.

Isabella Swan – July 2010

My hand paused over the heavy cloth covering. Did I want to reopen this wound? I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked it off, staring down at my old desk.

The childhood inscriptions had faded some. It was understandable, given they were over ten years old. It was the fresher, bright green writing that stood out. Tears started in my eyes, my heart twisting as I struggled for breath.

All the memories came back to me.

Over our time together, Edward had added more promises of love, had recorded times of joy. I ran my fingers over Edward was here, imagining his concentrated look, chaotic bronze hair falling across his forehead and into his emerald eyes. Green smudges across the pale skin of his fingers, results of my attempts to see what he was writing before he had finished.

I couldn’t bear to part with my desk. It was a tangible reminder that he had loved me, if only for a little bit. It was a reminder of happier times.

I replaced the covering and turned to leave. I couldn’t bear to change the oil today. I had learned how to do it myself just so I could impress him. Especially since he knew how to do everything.

I made my way back into the house, brushing away a few stray tears. I fought back the enormous ache starting in my heart.

I still didn’t know why he stopped talking to me. Everything had been perfect until it suddenly wasn’t. We had kissed each other goodnight and then I had never heard from him again. It was like he disappeared from the earth. I couldn’t get in touch with him when I tried. The only time I ever heard anything was when I went to visit Charlie and someone mentioned him in passing.

I couldn’t understand it, to this day. He wanted to marry me. He loved me, even knowing all my deepest secrets. And I loved him, knowing all of his. How could he just walk away without a backward glance?

The wound he had left in his wake was still raw. The first year had been the hardest, but eventually, I learned to manage the pain. Now, I only thought of him in passing, but I avoided it as much as I could. Now was one of those times.

As I sank down onto the sofa, holding back sobs, I wondered what had become of Edward Cullen.

Edward Cullen – July 2010

I glanced out of the hotel room window to the event set up below. I allowed myself a few moments of hurt, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

“Son?”

I turned to where my father was waiting in the doorway, impeccable as always in his tuxedo.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded.

“Then let’s go,” he smiled.

I followed him down, taking my proper place next to my brothers. I tried to disconnect myself, tried to ignore the way my heart was shattering.

A strawberry blonde came down the aisle, wrapped in white. She smiled, blushing like the bride she was. I stepped down, taking her from her father and leading her to stand before the preacher.

As he began welcoming our friends and family, I caught a flash of mahogany hair in the corner of my eye. I turned my head to the late guest, my heart swelling with hope. As she turned, my heart plummeted. The blue eyes and sun tanned skin was not what I wanted. She wasn’t here.

A sharp tug on my hand brought my attention back to Tanya. She was smiling at me, but her grey eyes were sharp, glaring. She wasn’t the one I wanted standing next to me at the altar. I didn’t want this.

She saw my wavering. Her nails dug sharply into my palm.

I turned back to the preacher, closing my eyes. I was doing this for the girl I loved. I was doing this to save her.