fic: twilight - lonelily (edward/jacob)

[boundary.livejournal.com]

title. lonelily
rating. pg
fandom/pairings. twilight / edward/jacob with mentions of jacob/bella, edward/rosalie, edward/bella
summary. He never thought he had a heart to break (it stopped beating so long ago) but he was sure that any small remainder that he had left of that cliché organ was shattered to pieces at the scene in front of him.
notes. Beated by littlepiece. Taken from threads in eventide_rp. (1, 2, 3, 4) Title from Damien Rice's Lonelily. Originally posted here.



Edward wasn’t one to allow anyone else to guide his judgment, but when it came to those he loved, he had a weakness.

Edward and Jacob had a long past, one where lies were told and hearts were broken and put back together. It wasn’t until Edward finally let down his guard. Telling this over-sized boy that he loved him, no, that he was in love with him. When the words left his lips, he felt like the air around him was fresher, cleaner, easier.

His face was in Jacob’s neck and he felt like everything was finally right. Even after he’d shattered Bella’s heart to pieces, even after Jacob had done the same. All because of their overwhelming need for the other, something they wished they could control but couldn’t.

This was until Jane got bored and decided to play with him, putting images of Jacob and Bella in his head that weren’t all correct. He couldn’t even control himself, he tried to burn them out, set them up in flames letting the ashes fall and litter the ground. But they were etched and carved, unable to be erased and unable to be forgotten.

I'm sure you can go ask your little boyfriend about it, or you could even just barely scrap the edge of his mind. She's in there, all over the place.

Jane’s voice in his head, beating him down like an abused animal. Edward goes to Jacob, knowing that he can’t read his mind, that he can’t see things from his perspective. Would you want to? See your lover with someone else, in their own mind, in their own point of view? It would have made it so much more worse. He lies to Jacob, throwing Jane’s words at him like so much poison.

Of course, Jane had had her fun with Jacob as well, beating him into pulp, barely able to stand and not in the mood to deal with Edward’s insecurities.

“Come to poke around in my mind, Cullen?” Jacob snapped back at Edward, putting on a face of disgust.

The audacity to be so rash, to act as if his presence was a curse. “I barely had to scrape the surface to know what you've been up to. I want to say I'm surprised, but that would be naive. Can't say I'm hurt either, I lied to you to get what I wanted anyway.”

Edward’s words were lies, burning his lips as they left his mouth. His poker face was in tact, an illusion of anger when he was really falling apart inside. He did all he could to not peer into Jacob’s mind. He just couldn’t bear it. It would be too much to see them together, to see all the things that Jacob never said to Edward, the things he reserved for Bella alone.

Jacob rolled his eyes, “Right. I don't feel like dealing with your shit right now.”

Edward accepted his defeat, his heels digging into the dirt and his back was turned before he could see Jacob roll his eyes, yet again, behind him.

Edward went hunting, his only way to busy himself, the only way to keep all the thoughts of others’ opinions from himself. He spends too much time in the woods pacing, running, feeding, and thinking. Mostly thinking, mostly wondering if he can salvage what he’s just fucked up with Jacob. He decides that he’ll try, he’ll do what he can to fix things. Even if nothing works, at least he did what he could to win back the boy that won his heart.

Edward is in front of Jacob’s house before he has a chance to take a deep breathe. As he walks up to the porch, he stops short. It is important to note here that people’s minds are much like their voice. When they are especially angered or excited about something, it comes off as a yell, their thoughts and feelings, and memories are like the yells in crowded rooms. They knock off the ceilings and reverberate. This is what Edward heard when he reached Jacob’s driveway. It wasn’t what he thought it would be.

Edward’s head tilted, his eyes closing, and he heard too familiar voice and he winces, I love you, Bella. Always. Events play out in his head, and he's trying his best to shut all of them out, but Jacob is yelling, screaming, and he can't shake the images.

Edward opens his eyes and Jacob’s standing before him. He’s only wearing a pair of jeans and Edward is doing his best to force everything he’s feeling as far inside himself as he can. He has to keep his composure, he has to exude confidence.

Jacob speaks first, “What are you doing here?”

“I've come to give my congrats to the happy couple. Enjoying my leftovers?” Edward says with a bit too much spite.

Jacob rolls his eyes (his usual method of disapproval), “You speak about her with such respect. Very classy, Cullen.”

“No longer on a first name basis, Jake? I knew you were in love with her, but my god. The displays of affection are revolting.,,” Edward is mocking Jacob’s memories of Bella, trying to get a rise our of Jacob, trying to get anything to validate his poor mood, to give him a reason to be as cruel as possible, “Oh, I love you Jake... I love you too Bella. Always. Blech. Please tell me that we weren't that disgustingly cliché.”

“Hmm, what was it you said yesterday morning before you ran off? I barely had to scrape the surface to know what you've been up to,” Jacob laughs, “Funny how I hadn't been up to anything, but now that I have, you're bitter. Thanks for giving me the push I needed. I don't think Bella and I would be together right now if it hadn't been for you and your insecurities.” Jacob is glaring at Edward now, staring holes into his pristine face.

“A push?” Edward scoffs, “You're kidding, right? I know this had been going on longer than just the past day. Don't lie to me, I'm not an idiot.”

“You are,” Jacob says, “You're the biggest idiot I've ever known. Hmm, Jane pay a visit to you?”

Edward is surprised at his question, but sees no relevance, “Yes, but that's not an issue here.”

Jacob laughs, “I think it is. You let some bimbo mess with your brain. You doubted me because of her.”

Edward’s eyes fall and he's staring just over Jacob’s shoulder, thinking back to what Jane had said, trying to piece together everything. His eyebrows knit together and he's beyond words, “I... She.. she said.. I don't understand.”

“Yes, she said,” Jacob spits back, “Whatever she says is the truth, right?”

Edward’s hands have balled into fists, his jaw is clenched tight. “I see it now,” he says quietly, “I'm just confused.. exactly how long did you wait before you jumped into bed with her? “ He can't say her name, it's poison on his tongue. “Does she know the things you said to me, or were those lies?”

“Edward, I didn't jump into bed with Bella. God, you don't know anything! You don't know what I've been dealing with. You don't know what she's been going through. I –“ Jacob’s face falls and he tries not to think about the terror Bella endured at the hands of his brother, but it hits him like a truck. when he speaks, his voice is soft, almost a whisper, “I didn't lie to you. I loved you. I always will, but with Bella... it's -- I wish I could explain it, but I can't. I don't want to hurt you,” Jacob pauses and smiles sadly, “But that's inevitable.”

Jacob’s thoughts are like daggers. Edward's doing his best to shut him out, but all the dreams, all the things he witnessed where Bella was concerned.. they flood over him like scalding hot lava. He loses his balance for a second, but catches himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose, begging everything he's just seen to melt away. His heart is falling apart -- for Jake and Bella -- and he can't figure out how this will ever be right”

“Is she okay? I mean.. I know she's alright, but…,” he hesitates, recognizing a scent, the corners of his mouth tugging when he realizes, “she's.. she's inside, isn't she?”

Edward wants to keep his signature poker face, pretend that none of this is hurting him, that this is just another conversation. but this is it., the end. He's grasping at moments, knowing that after this is over, he'll never be able to see either of them again and not crumble into the pavement.

Just as she’s mentioned, Bella is outside, careful to stand far from Jacob, so as not to cause anymore pain in the broken man standing before her. Her hands are shaking and her arms are hugging her middle, “Umm.. hello, Edward.”

Edward can't form words, his mouth is opening and closing, trying to say things that he can't even string together. He wants to scream at them both. Ask them why they had to do this, why now, why him, why did he ever love either of them. He never thought he had a heart to break (it stopped beating so long ago) but he was sure that any small remainder that he had left of that cliché organ was shattered to pieces at the scene in front of him. He forces the words to leave his lips, “Hello, Isabella.”

Bella is biting her lips, something she’s always done when she’s nervous and entirely unsure what to say. Edward hates that he recognizes this, hates that he knows her this well.

“Edward I” she says softly, “..I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry.” Bella looks to Jacob, who is shifting uncomfortably in front of them, then she speaks again, quietly, but with sadness lingering in her voice, “I know you probably hate me. I can't blame you. I remember how it felt when I found out. It feels like someone is ripping out a part of you, a part that had been so beautiful. I had felt so dead, so ugly after all of that.” She meets Edward’s eyes and continues, “I don't want you to feel like that. I never wanted you to feel like that. You don't deserve it.”

Edward’s arms are around himself and he's holding tight to his sides. He's looking at them together. they might be standing apart, arms crossed and feet shuffling, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out the closeness they share even when they aren't in each other's arms.

Edward is speaking so quietly, he isn’t sure that either of them hear him, “No, no. It's fine. I... get it.” He turns on his heel, ignoring their sighs and lament. He wants to break into a run, but he can't unfold his arms. He wants to mourn, wants to place flowers on a grave, something to mark this occasion. He attempts to hold himself together, but he's realizing that there's very little of himself left.

Edward wanders around Forks, through the forests and through the town. He knows he’s parked his car somewhere outside the mass of trees, but doesn’t care to find it. His feet are like blocks of wood, each footstep is harder and harder to take and before he knows it he is home.

Edward hears Rosalie inside, smells the fresh paint and lumber. She’s been doing work around the house, which means she’s had something on her mind. He wants to care what it is, but he can’t. His thoughts are focused on Jacob and Bella, kissing, hugging, touching, fucking. He can’t make them stop, he can’t tune any of it out.

Edward climbs the steps into Rosalie’s doorway, he says hello, but anything on his lips is foreign. He doesn’t even believe his own voice has sound anymore. She turns, her hair fanning in the air as she does. She takes in his appearance and is immediately concerned.

Edward is intent to keep the focus off himself, even if only for a few minutes. He needs to let this out, but can’t fathom how or if he will be able to. He tries to smile, fails, and says, “Looks like you had a busy day.”

Rosalie brightens up, she’s proud of her home improvement projects and is eager to brag of her hard work, “Yeah, I fixed the door because I had to, but as far as the stairs were concerned, I consider it a lucky chance to update some of our fixtures.”

Suddently Rosalie frowns, comes to Edward and takes him by the arm, leading you into the room and sitting him down. She takes his hand into hers and strokes the back of it with her thumb, “Edward, what's wrong?”

Edward can't meet her eyes, He knows that he'll completely fall apart if he has to see the way she's looking at him. He opens his mouth to speak a few times, his words barely audible and not whole syllables. He can't uncross his arms, it's all that he knows to do, all he can do to hold himself together.

Edward’s voice is the smallest whisper, “Jake.. I mean.. Jacob and Isabella are.. together.” The words burn his tongue, their names, it’s their names that have the harshest of effects.

Rosalie frowns; she reaches up and touches his face gently, turning his head toward her, “Oh... Well, I'm here, Edward. I'm always here.” She wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a sideways hug, rubbing his shoulder with her hand.

Edward hates how well Rosalie can read him. She knows every trick, every ploy that he has to make himself seem like he's doing just fine. He also loves her for it. He feels like she’s the only one that will truly ever 'get him' and he can't help but die a little with this thought.

Somehow Edward finds his voice again, “As long as they're happy. I don't know. I feel like the ugly, damaged third wheel. Like I was only the filler for both of them until they found each other.”

Rosalie frowns again, and gently guides him to her lap, rubbing gently on his scalp with her fingers, “You'll be okay, Edward. I know you, you'll be fine. Just give it time.” She bites her lip, placing her other hand on his arm.

Edward’s fingers grab at the lose material of Rosalie’s shirt, balling it into his fists. He wishes something could happen, some release. He doesn't remember what it is like to cry, those memories are long gone. But the movies show how freeing it is, how much easier the healing comes when tears are shed.

Edward doesn't like being this vulnerable, having his emotions and thoughts out for Rosalie to trudge through like so much garbage. but he can't even move. Her fingers on his head are soothing and he can't lie, the closeness is comforting. Even if it is all in vain, he'll take what he can get.

“I love them, Rose,” Edward forces out, “really, really love them. I don't understand.. I just.. Why.. why me? Why did they do this to me?”

Rosalie starts to play with Edward’s hair while she rubs your scalp, running it through her fingers, “Love sucks, Edward. You know that as well as I do. I think it's just one of those things that comes with being part of this world. And I almost think the highs of it are worth the lows,” she pauses, pulls a little at his hair in her fingers, closing a fist around a handful and opening it again, “You know they aren't doing this to you on purpose, Edward. Please don't think that way.”

Edward is suddenly offended, he doesn't want to be. He's fighting back everything to not scream right now, but can't. Rosalie doesn't understand how lucky she is. He sits up straight, looking her in the eyes for the first time since he entered her room, “You don't even get it! He loves you, he's always going to love you! You never even have to doubt it. You've never had your heart broken, Rose. Maybe you thought you did, but there's a difference. He came back.”

Edward’s voice is loud and echoing against the high ceilings. He's not mad at her, he's mad at them. He's not stupid, he knows they didn't want to hurt him, but he can't help but feel this way. They've single-handedly crushed him into pieces, and he's grasping, roughly, at sanity.

Rosalie stands up, noticeably frustrated, “I wasn't-- I didn't-- damnit, Edward!” She paces to the window, not looking at him. He can't help but overhear her screaming. not so much what she's saying, but that she is -- in fact -- screaming at him, in her head and he hopes she didn't see him react. he still had a nasty habit of responding to things people only thought

Then Rosalie’s voice breaks the constant turmoil in her head, “I'm sorry, okay?” Her arms drop to her sides, and she comes back to Edward, standing before him, “I'm sorry.” Her arms are around him, hugging him tightly.

Edward’s face is pressed into Rosalie and he takes in her familiar scent. His arms are tight around her, and he's thankful she won't break under the pressure. His hands are still in fists, and for some reason, his stomach is in knots. He was sure this was only a human ailment.

Suddenly, Edward’s arms loosen and he's pushing back from Rosalie. His head is still bowed, his hair falling in his face to shield his face, which would tell her everything, “I think I need to leave for a while, get my head in order. If Emmett sees me like this, I'll never hear the end of it.” He laughs, and it is fake, forced.

“Everyone always leaves,” Rosalie says very matter-of-factly, like she's reading from a newspaper She looks at Edward, then steels herself against the bed, cracking the bedpost by gripping too hard, “Where will you go?”

“Somewhere cold, far, I don't know. I haven't thought that much ahead. I just can't stay here.. if I ran into them.. I just can't be here, Rose,” Edward turns his back, he can't face you, he can't see your reaction to his next statement, “I don't know when or if I'll come back.”

Edward hears Rosalie stir a little, then her thoughts are screaming at him, “COWARD!”

Edward’s head snaps to look at Rosalie. his eyebrows knit together. He's sure she didn't say it aloud. it wouldn't of hurt as much. Her thoughts were rushing into his head, completely unwelcome, “Rose.. I... What do I do? I stay here and watch them prance around town like a couple of high school sweethearts? I can't do that, Rose. I can't see them. And I will. Even if I don't see them in the flesh, they'll be in everyone's head and you know that I can't shut everything out. I can only do so much. Fuck, Rose. I see my leaving as self-preservation.”

Rosalie is shaking, holding the broken bedpost in her hands, “That's the thing, Edward, this self-preservation preserves only yourself.” The remains she held in her falls from her hand. She’s quiet for a moment, before she exclaims, “It's always Edward with you! You haven't got a clue, do you? You being here is-- it's-- damnit -- it's--,”

Rosalie’s looking around the room, frustrated, “It's comforting having you here, okay? I like it when you're nearby, when I can hear you play the piano. The quiet in this place drives me crazy--” She kicks the piece of the bedpost that fell, crossing her arms and turning away from you.

Edward walked to stand in front of Rosalie, his eyes finding hers, and he can't believe how selfish he's being, “It's just.. easier to run. I don't know, I don't know. I can't even think right now. Between you screaming at me in your head and everything I saw when I looked inside Jake's head.. there isn't room for anything i need to think about or sort through,” he paused, lowering his voice, “I'll stay for you, Rose. But only for you. If I had my choice, I'd already be on my way up north.”

Rosalie looks up at Edward, anger shining faintly in her eyes, “I'm sorry I... well, I didn't think I could be that loud. In there.” Her eyes roll up, indicating her mind, “If you feel like you need to go, then go. Don't let me be -- don't stay just for me.”

“I've never put you first, Rose. I've always done what was easiest for me. I don't know, maybe I need to stick around. I just don't know how to deal with seeing them. I can't see them or you'll have to shove me in a straight-jacket,” Edward laughs, softly but genuine, and continues, “If you want me here, I'm here. You'll have a really sullen Cullen to deal with, though. Hope you're up for that.”

Rosalie scoffs; he interprets this as a meager laugh, “Sullen Cullen. Heh.” She down on the bed, burying her face in her hands for a moment, then running both through her hair, “You know, they don't come around here, around the house I mean. Though I suppose you'd tire of seeing this place day in and day out. Don't stay on account of me, Edward. I don't want to be a factor in your decisions, it's unfair.”

Edward walks toward the door, he sees Rosalie look up, still sitting on her bed, wringing her hands and her eyes are asking him to stay, but he can't, “I'm going to go pack.”

Edward is practically out the door when Rosalie launches herself at him, attaching herself to him in an incredibly tight hug. She whispers against his neck, “Promise me you'll come back.”

Edward’s head is craning back, trying to see the expression on Rosalie’s face, but she's buried into his chest. His arms are instinctively around her, hugging her for what feels like the last time. She's begging him in her head, begging and pleading and he can't say no, even if it ends up to be a lie, “I promise, Rose.”

“Okay,” Rosalie loosens her grip slightly, and repeats herself, “Okay.” Then, quickly, she lifts her chin and drops a light kiss on his jaw. Edward’s skin goes numb where Rosalie’s lips brushed his jaw line. His eyes close, and he wants to pretend this isn't anything, that nothing matters, that her pleas won't change what he wants to do. He can't, she always knew how to get to him, knew that his weakness has always been her, and her lips, and her hands, and her words most of all. She closes her eyes as she pulls away, letting his hands drop last.

Edward looks at Rosalie one final time, and she looks like she'd be crying if she could. He tries to whisper goodbye, but it sounds foreign on his lips. He smiles, the corners of his mouth barely reaching up, and leaves her room.

In minutes, Edward’s bags are packed, and he’s called to book a flight. He let the phone representative pick his destination, it didn’t matter where he went, just that we did. When he gets in the cab, he’s sure he can feel Rosalie watching him leave from her window. He wants to affirm his suspicions, but knows that seeing her face again will break him even more.

The cab drives away and Edward is doing as he does best, running from his problems, daring them to chase him. In a way he’d lost all that he’d believed in, and didn’t know if he’d ever felt this alone before.

Watch the community for updates.
Be an affiliate.
Comments are appreciated.