to be sorry for?
"Shhhh." I attempted to stop her insanity. "Everything's all right now." I tried to speak bracing words of comfort. She needn't be so anxious with her frail body being in such a broken state.
"What happened?" Her words were slurred slightly, almost like she was drunk.
Memories of the events that happened that fateful morning, which brought her to this place, rushed across my mind. My stomach bubbled with a sickening acid.
"I was almost too late. I could have been too late," I whispered, torment lacing each syllable.
"I was so stupid, Edward. I thought he had my mom."
Of course, she would try to put the blame on herself.
"He tricked us all," I said, trying to ease her mind. She really should be resting.
"I need to call Charlie and my mom," worry was present in her eyes...always worried about someone else, anyone else, but herself.
"Alice called them. Renée is here -- well, here in the hospital. She's getting something to eat right now."
"She's here?" She tried to sit up, her body swaying slightly. I couldn't let her hurt herself anymore so I lightly pushed her back down onto the pillows.
"She'll be back soon," I promised. "And you need to stay still."
"But what did you tell her?" Her voice was panicked. "Why did you tell her I'm here?" Even in her drugged stupor, she was still trying to protect our secret. Without effort, my love radiated out of me along with the agony that rippled through me at the thought of what actually happened just those two days ago.
"You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window." You were tortured by a vicious vampire and I was nearly too late. "You have to admit, it could happen." I tried to lighten the mood with this small joke.
She sighed at my bad humor and I could see her wince slightly at the pain it caused. Her eyes finally left mine to roam over her broken and mangled body.
"How bad am I?" She asked, curious.
This time I sighed. The damage was extensive.
"You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you've lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions. I didn't like it -- it made you smell all wrong for a while." I took in a deep breath at the luxurious scent that now filled the small room, letting it sting my throat with the pleasurable burning sensation.
"That must have been a nice change for you," she half smiled.
She had it all wrong though. To imagine her without the palatable scent was almost unbearable, like I had drank all the goodness from her body and it was being replaced by some cheap imitation.
"No, I like how you smell."
"How did you do it?" Her voice was strained. I knew what she was asking.
Many memories stirred from that horrible morning. Blood was coming out of her in torrents, flooding the floor. The blood...how did I stop? I remembered the pleasure and the pain that consumed my body at just the mere thought of her warm blood in my mouth, my burning throat with the accompanied obsessive longing finally being quenched. The thought tore at every nerve in my body. The disgust I felt didn't stop me though; I still brought her wrist to my mouth and drank from her. Even when she yanked around in my grasp, thrusting against my hold, screaming, I didn't let go. I didn't even know how I did it.
"I'm not sure," there was the tiniest quiver in my voice.
Gently, I lifted her hand which was wrapped in white gauze, examining it carefully. Along with the ache that seared deep inside me, there was this new indication of what I was. A monster. A creature that should have no part in this angel's life.
Lightly caressing her hand I shivered at this sick souvenir that would always be on her wrist which made my dead heart shatter. The wires that connected her to all the monitors were just another vivid reminder on top of everything else at how fragile and breakable she was. Each passing second felt like borrowed time.
I sighed. "It was impossible... to stop," my voice was low, a whisper. But I did stop; I was able to keep her alive. "Impossible. But I did." My eyes met hers, a smile creeping up my face; a great rush of affection washing over me. "I must love you."
"Don't I taste as good as