Speak Of The Devil, And The Devil

Would You Like To Hear My Story, Bella? It Doesn't Have A Happy Ending - But Which Of Ours Does? If We Had Happy Endings, We'd All Be Under Gravestones Now.

It's Strong, Ian. The Way She Feels About You Is Something Else. She Loves This World, But So Much Of The Reason She Couldn't Leave Was Really You. She Thinks Of You As Her Anchor. You Gave Her A Reason To Finally Stay In One Place After A Lifetime Of Wandering.

And The Sound Of Your Heart," He Continued. "it's The Most Significant Sound In My World. I'm So Attuned To It Now, I Swear I Could Pick It Out From Miles Away. But Neither Of These Things Matter. This," He Said, Taking My Face In His Hands. "you. That's What I'm Keeping. You'll Always Be My Bella, You'll Just Be A Little More Durable.

I Struggled To Find The Words To Name The Feelings That Flooded Through Me, But I Had No Words Strong Enough To Hold Them. For A Long Moment, I Drowned In Them. When I Surfaced, I Was Not The Same Man I Had Been. My Life Was An Unending, Unchanging Midnight. It Must, By Necessity, Always Be Midnight For Me. So How Was It Possible That The Sun Was Rising Now, In The Middle Of My Midnight?

Um, Bella? You've Got A Huge Cut On Your Forehead, And It's Gushing Blood," He Informed Me. I Clapped My Hand Over My Head. Sure Enough, It Was Wet And Sticky. I Could Smell Nothing But The Damp Moss On My Face, And That Held Off The Nausea. Oh, I'm So Sorry, Jacob." I Pushed Hard Against The Gash, As If I Could Force The Blood Back Inside My Head. Why Are You Apologizing For Bleeding?" He Wondered As He Wrapped A Long Arm Around My Waist And And Pulled Me To My Feet.