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ghostsighstitle. as she burns me, i am screaming out for more
fandom/pairing. twilight / tanya-centric (with a dash of edward/tanya)
rating. pg13
summary. She sees in him what she sees in all men: a challenge. She breaks him, melts him, and presses him into a mold he isn’t supposed to fit inside.
notes. Written for the Tanya Ficathon. This is bits and piece of my own personal Tanya that I wanted to get written before Breaking Dawn comes out. Title is from Maroon 5's Woman. Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yoursolace & apresmoi. Originally posted here.
It’s fleeting, the time spent outside, sitting in the snow without it melting around her. She watches the sun disappear for what will be days and feels an ache. It’s somewhere inside her vacant chest, where a heart would beat so long ago that she forgot the sound. She wraps her arms around herself, consoling things she’ll never say or admit. She’s spent centuries healing over, doctoring her own wounds. Tonight won’t be any different.
·
It’s never love, she reminds herself. Oh, it’s never love!
She’s finding that she’s having trouble convincing herself; her mind screaming two things at once, confusing and tearing her in half.
I don’t want to fall in love with a boy.
She looks at her reflection, pushing hair from her face and sighing.
Especially when he doesn’t want to fall in love with me.
·
A bed that should be covered in rich silk and duvets is stripped bare. Tanya likes it this way, the curves of her mattress sinking into her naked skin as yet another lover presses himself against her.
Her sighs break hard against his neck1, saying his name like she means it.
I can’t ever mean it.
She’s been distancing herself from him the second his eyes met her own. She sees in him what she sees in all men: a challenge. She breaks him, melts him, and presses him into a mold he isn’t supposed to fit inside.
Never give yourself away. Never.
She’s makes promises that her tongue wraps around so perfectly. Oh, yes, I love you. Oh, yes, I need you.
Her skin is soaked in all the things she says and doesn’t allow herself to feel.
·
He’s a boy, a naïve guarded boy, and she’s already got a thousand ways to break him open swimming inside her head.
He approaches her, head down, eyes focused on the hard wood floors instead of her own.
Mmm, I’ll split you right open.
His eyes flash to hers, wide and drowning in awkwardness. She knows his power before he tells her, and she smiles.
“You’re nosy, aren’t you?”
He doesn’t answer, still looking at her like she’s a predator.
If he only knew.
He is entranced by her, her movements fluid and like sighs against the air.
“I’m a predator posing as a house pet2, Edward. I’d listen to what you’ve heard about me.”
Before he has a chance to react, she’s turned, slipping through the doorway and grinning to herself.
·
Tanya doesn’t remember much of her human life. Slow flashes of parents both loving and doting. She fears she didn’t cling to those as she should have; they slip more and more from her as each decade clicks by.
One memory remains vivid and clear in her head, the scenes playing like movies within her mind’s eye. Her eyes close and she can still see him, remember how warm his hand was in her own, how his lips surrounded her name.
It was so long ago, in a different time, a different country, a different naïve young girl. But love has a way of translating and spanning time, language, and even immortals.
He set her up to be the person she became as a vampire. How she lures so many in, watching them tangle in her web, toying with them before finally devouring them.
She doesn’t even remember his name but his eyes have bore into her thoughts like the framework of a house. He’s hers, even if in life he never was.
·
“I’m not something to be admired, Edward.”
The words slip from her lips so delicately, trying to gloss over this very difficult situation with as much grace as possible. Her fingers trace down his arm, watching how his eyes close slightly at her touch.
“No one is. Especially those like us. Some will lust for you, others will envy, but the most important ones are those that despise you. These are the ones that will remind you of what you are.”
His lips try to form words, losing them somewhere between his head and his heart. (Always a battle. Always.)
She moves close to him, enclosing the space with her slender, pale limbs, her body somehow fitting against his much too well.
“I don’t want to hate what I am.”
Edward’s voice is smooth but quiet and she shakes her head before looking down at his hand on her leg. She smirks, exuding more confidence than she has in years.
“You don’t have to but I can tell already. You’ll fight what you are until someone loves you despite it.”
Her wicked smile falters and she keeps her eyes diverted from him.
“And I’m not going to be that person, Edward. I’m not sure anyone can love you enough to defeat the self-loathing, least of all me.”
She meets his gaze again, unsmiling, expressionless nearly. He traces the curves of her neck with his eyes and she pushes away, always looking for the nearest exit.
“Best this stops now before you end up in love.”
·
So many months and years, she’s forgotten how to count them, keeping calendars from decades ago in forgotten boxes. It’s unlike her to worry for anyone but she finds her mind drifting to someone she wants so badly to forget.
Don’t let him consume you, she reminds herself, he’ll fester if he gets under your skin.
As if his gift spans state lines, her phone rings, a too-confident velvet voice leaking from the speaker.
“I’m getting married.”
She can’t help but laugh; the thought of their kind staining themselves with such archaic human traditions. She only stops when he clears his throat, making his frustration known.
“You amuse me, Edward. What’s her name?”
Edward mumbles a name that evokes very clear pictures of the haphazard girl he’d mused about before. To think he’d stuck to someone, anyone was surprising.
“I’m sure you’ll be so very happy together. I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly call, more of a warning?”
He clears his throat again and hesitates. “She doesn’t need to know about things that do not concern her and would only hurt her.”
Again she laughs, falling backwards onto her bed and folding an arm behind her head.
“So you’ve lied about your past, have you? So immoral, Edward. I never pegged you for the type.”
He sounds too serious, his words spoken like those of a litigator. “We were nothing, meant nothing. You said it yourself.”
“Yes. Nothing.”
Tanya hangs up the phone afterward, rolling to her side and closing her eyes.
Never a girl worth marrying, never anyone worth remembering.
She doesn’t want it to hurt but it does. Her own small secret, though; It isn’t love, this is nothing like love.
--
1 from matt nathanson's somewhere to hide - "her words broke hard against my neck"
2 from fight club by chuck palahnuik - "she's a predator posing as a house pet."
fandom/pairing. twilight / tanya-centric (with a dash of edward/tanya)
rating. pg13
summary. She sees in him what she sees in all men: a challenge. She breaks him, melts him, and presses him into a mold he isn’t supposed to fit inside.
notes. Written for the Tanya Ficathon. This is bits and piece of my own personal Tanya that I wanted to get written before Breaking Dawn comes out. Title is from Maroon 5's Woman. Betaed by
yoursolace & apresmoi. Originally posted here.It’s fleeting, the time spent outside, sitting in the snow without it melting around her. She watches the sun disappear for what will be days and feels an ache. It’s somewhere inside her vacant chest, where a heart would beat so long ago that she forgot the sound. She wraps her arms around herself, consoling things she’ll never say or admit. She’s spent centuries healing over, doctoring her own wounds. Tonight won’t be any different.
·
It’s never love, she reminds herself. Oh, it’s never love!
She’s finding that she’s having trouble convincing herself; her mind screaming two things at once, confusing and tearing her in half.
I don’t want to fall in love with a boy.
She looks at her reflection, pushing hair from her face and sighing.
Especially when he doesn’t want to fall in love with me.
·
A bed that should be covered in rich silk and duvets is stripped bare. Tanya likes it this way, the curves of her mattress sinking into her naked skin as yet another lover presses himself against her.
Her sighs break hard against his neck1, saying his name like she means it.
I can’t ever mean it.
She’s been distancing herself from him the second his eyes met her own. She sees in him what she sees in all men: a challenge. She breaks him, melts him, and presses him into a mold he isn’t supposed to fit inside.
Never give yourself away. Never.
She’s makes promises that her tongue wraps around so perfectly. Oh, yes, I love you. Oh, yes, I need you.
Her skin is soaked in all the things she says and doesn’t allow herself to feel.
·
He’s a boy, a naïve guarded boy, and she’s already got a thousand ways to break him open swimming inside her head.
He approaches her, head down, eyes focused on the hard wood floors instead of her own.
Mmm, I’ll split you right open.
His eyes flash to hers, wide and drowning in awkwardness. She knows his power before he tells her, and she smiles.
“You’re nosy, aren’t you?”
He doesn’t answer, still looking at her like she’s a predator.
If he only knew.
He is entranced by her, her movements fluid and like sighs against the air.
“I’m a predator posing as a house pet2, Edward. I’d listen to what you’ve heard about me.”
Before he has a chance to react, she’s turned, slipping through the doorway and grinning to herself.
·
Tanya doesn’t remember much of her human life. Slow flashes of parents both loving and doting. She fears she didn’t cling to those as she should have; they slip more and more from her as each decade clicks by.
One memory remains vivid and clear in her head, the scenes playing like movies within her mind’s eye. Her eyes close and she can still see him, remember how warm his hand was in her own, how his lips surrounded her name.
It was so long ago, in a different time, a different country, a different naïve young girl. But love has a way of translating and spanning time, language, and even immortals.
He set her up to be the person she became as a vampire. How she lures so many in, watching them tangle in her web, toying with them before finally devouring them.
She doesn’t even remember his name but his eyes have bore into her thoughts like the framework of a house. He’s hers, even if in life he never was.
·
“I’m not something to be admired, Edward.”
The words slip from her lips so delicately, trying to gloss over this very difficult situation with as much grace as possible. Her fingers trace down his arm, watching how his eyes close slightly at her touch.
“No one is. Especially those like us. Some will lust for you, others will envy, but the most important ones are those that despise you. These are the ones that will remind you of what you are.”
His lips try to form words, losing them somewhere between his head and his heart. (Always a battle. Always.)
She moves close to him, enclosing the space with her slender, pale limbs, her body somehow fitting against his much too well.
“I don’t want to hate what I am.”
Edward’s voice is smooth but quiet and she shakes her head before looking down at his hand on her leg. She smirks, exuding more confidence than she has in years.
“You don’t have to but I can tell already. You’ll fight what you are until someone loves you despite it.”
Her wicked smile falters and she keeps her eyes diverted from him.
“And I’m not going to be that person, Edward. I’m not sure anyone can love you enough to defeat the self-loathing, least of all me.”
She meets his gaze again, unsmiling, expressionless nearly. He traces the curves of her neck with his eyes and she pushes away, always looking for the nearest exit.
“Best this stops now before you end up in love.”
·
So many months and years, she’s forgotten how to count them, keeping calendars from decades ago in forgotten boxes. It’s unlike her to worry for anyone but she finds her mind drifting to someone she wants so badly to forget.
Don’t let him consume you, she reminds herself, he’ll fester if he gets under your skin.
As if his gift spans state lines, her phone rings, a too-confident velvet voice leaking from the speaker.
“I’m getting married.”
She can’t help but laugh; the thought of their kind staining themselves with such archaic human traditions. She only stops when he clears his throat, making his frustration known.
“You amuse me, Edward. What’s her name?”
Edward mumbles a name that evokes very clear pictures of the haphazard girl he’d mused about before. To think he’d stuck to someone, anyone was surprising.
“I’m sure you’ll be so very happy together. I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly call, more of a warning?”
He clears his throat again and hesitates. “She doesn’t need to know about things that do not concern her and would only hurt her.”
Again she laughs, falling backwards onto her bed and folding an arm behind her head.
“So you’ve lied about your past, have you? So immoral, Edward. I never pegged you for the type.”
He sounds too serious, his words spoken like those of a litigator. “We were nothing, meant nothing. You said it yourself.”
“Yes. Nothing.”
Tanya hangs up the phone afterward, rolling to her side and closing her eyes.
Never a girl worth marrying, never anyone worth remembering.
She doesn’t want it to hurt but it does. Her own small secret, though; It isn’t love, this is nothing like love.
Be an 
Comments are appreciated.--
1 from matt nathanson's somewhere to hide - "her words broke hard against my neck"
2 from fight club by chuck palahnuik - "she's a predator posing as a house pet."
