Runaway Girl {A Twilight Love Story}

Such A Familiar Name

As I stood at the dirty strip club bar I shook my head at the disgusting images flooding my mind. The thoughts that ran through the men at this club were atrocious. It was times like this I wished I could turn off my mind-reading ability. I tried to tune it all out. How Emmett talked me into coming here I still couldn't figure out. He knew that I had never been interested in anyone before, human woman or vampire. I sighed heavily as I corrected myself internally. I know that there was something once: in Forks, with Bella Swan.

I was so sure I would kill her on that first day. The smell of her blood was like a tsunami hitting my throat, causing the venom to roll through my mouth against my keen teeth. It took everything I had to leave her alive in that cold languid class. I fled that day up to Alaska, but after a few days by myself I reasoned that I was strong enough to defy her scent. I was so wrong to think that. I wanted to take her just as much as that first day. I hunted extraneously the night before. I spoke to her trying to get into her taciturn mind. I found myself fascinated by her responses, the way her cheeks flooded rose—I wanted to know so much more about her. I watched her through the mind of that feeble boy Mike Newton, growing irritated about his possessiveness. That night I pondered her future. I found myself pained at the idea of her marrying another man. The emotions clouded my reasoning. I couldn't figure out why I needed to stay. I knew every day I was near that girl I would be risking her life. I decided to see her one last time and then it happened. I thought about that day; the van careening into her frail body; the feel of her heat against my stone chest; the vibrations of energy that passed between our eyes. There was something about her—the way she stumbled over her words as I lied to her about where I was, the scent of freesia pulling me under, the blush of her cheek when I first spoke to her, her translucent skin and warm chocolate eyes. After the accident I fought with my family, such a vicious poisonous fight. Jasper and Rosalie wanted to get rid of her, Alice wanted us to return. Her words scalded me:

I love her too...Can't you see where this is headed? Like the sun rising in the east...

I wanted to disagree with her, tell her that there was no way I could love a girl I didn't know. Yet the words didn't form. I insisted that Carlisle pull me from school and offered to go out on my own. He disagreed with me, but I held my ground. For weeks we stayed in Forks to ensure that she didn't tell people her theories. I never returned to school, instead hovering in the parking lot reading the minds of her friends. She kept her word and never deferred from the story I told her. After weeks I watched as the line started to form; all those boys asking her out, vying for her attention. I was in turmoil watching them talk to her, to see the soft blossom of her cheek, the russet eyes widen in shock. I felt a surge of covetous heat. I reasoned that I couldn't be jealous of what was not mine. Before I left, I snuck into Bella's window and watched her sleep. She was so frail and soft. Without thinking I had brushed my arctic finger across her searing cheek. She leaned into me and I heard her mumble. "Edward"

I had felt my heart unravel. I knew then that if I stayed I would only endanger her life in every way possible. I knew that I would never feel that way about a girl again, but I couldn't risk her life for my own selfish gain. I promptly left Forks. She was on my mind every day. I would see strangers with the cascade of her chestnut hair or the bow of her lip; they could never compare. I tussled with myself to return to her and ensure that she was still well. Every few months I would travel back to check on her. I would climb through her window and watch her sleep, the purple comforter tangled between her legs of sinew. Every time my cold heart would fail me as I felt all those emotions harden around me. Every time I would stroke her satin and scarlet cheek. A few times she would talk in her sleep.

I was traveling through, picking up a few things at the house when I happened upon her house. It had been two years since we left. She was thin, too angular, her hair in layers of string and tangles. Even in sleep she had dark circles under her eyes. I heard her mumble "Riley"—it was as if the floor opened up around me as she whispered another man's name. I swore I would leave her alone after that. I couldn't continue my fantasies about being with Bella. There was someone else to protect her. I could never be that man. The next day as I was about to leave, I drove by one last time. I could see her through the window. She looked tired: her eyes had deep circles under them and her cheeks were blotchy. My knuckles protested in anguish at the sight of her in pain. I saw her pull a man up from the ground and set him in a chair. I recognized him as her father, the chief of police. I almost went to her to offer my assistance. I could hear the conversation inside.