word count: ~500
a/n: In honor of Breaking Dawn, (which was actually pretty good), I have written a drabble thing that... totally ignores it ever existed. Oops.
The soundtrack, however, was outstanding.
I don't know if I would even claim to own Twilight if I did, I also don't own the incredible Sleeping At Last.
'i surrender who i've been for who you are'
'though we're tethered to the story we must tell,
when i saw you, well, i knew we'd tell it well.
with a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas.
like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees.'
Her first elementary school boyfriend had honey hair and the most beautiful blue eyes. He brought her flowers everyday, a crooked grin lining his face.
Funny that that's the face she thinks of on her wedding day. Not of the man waiting at the alter, no, just of that little boy's kind eyes.
Of course as she prays not to fall down the aisle she catches the briefest glimpse of sunlight gleam from another boy with honey colored hair. He flashes a smile, more crooked that the groom's, but she smiles back.
She spends half the ceremony wondering if Jasper had blue eyes before he died.
She's trained her eyes to not linger throughout the years. She hates when people linger on her so she does her very best not to linger on anyone else. It doesn't matter anyway, no one ever looks at her when Edward is there.
Except the brother standing next to Alice, his expression weary and eyes black. Her gaze always falls on him for too long, tracing every feature of her face with detail.
She knows that even with the pale scars he is still more beautiful than she can ever hope to be.
Sometimes when she passes him in the house, she brushes her fingers against the skin on his arms. The feeling of the raised icy skin causes a shock to run through her.
He never says anything to her and she can't decide if she hates him or loves him for it.
She reads a lot, because there's really nothing else to do with her time. Her mind drinks in all she can of every love story she can get her hands on. The more and more she reads the more and more she doubts.
Her husband kisses her goodbye for a weekend hunting trip with Carlisle and Emmett. He's gone before she can return the sentiment.
Her eyes fall on Jasper's form, leaning against the door post, staring after his family with a soft smile. His smile is dangerously becoming her favorite thing about being a Cullen.
As she brushes past him into the large house, she feels his breath on her neck and not for the first time she wonders if she picked the wrong love story, after all.