Twilight: blood & brimstone

Bella sat beside me in the truck, arms crossed, eyes distant.

She was thinking.

Overthinking.

It was what she always did.

I let the silence stretch between us, the engine humming beneath my hands, the cold air pressing against the windows. I could feel her sneaking glances at me, quick little looks like she was trying to figure me out.

Like she was trying to decide if this was a mistake.

I smirked. "Regretting it already?"

Her head snapped toward me. "What?"

I tapped the steering wheel. "Letting me drive."

She sighed, shaking her head. "It's just… weird."

I chuckled. "Weird?"

She hesitated. "Edward never let me."

I grinned. "And yet, here you are."

She inhaled sharply, turning away, staring out the window as the trees blurred past.

Because she knew what I meant.

Edward had controlled so much of her world. His rules. His conditions. His way of deciding what was best for her.

And I?

I just let her choose.

And she had chosen to get in this truck with me.

I let that fact settle between us, thick and heavy.

Then—

"I don't know why I let you talk to me like this."

Her voice was quiet. Frustrated.

I smirked. "Because you like it."

She scoffed. "I don't."

I tilted my head, pretending to think. "You don't?"

"No."

I chuckled. "Then why are you here?"

She stiffened.

Because she didn't have an answer.

Or rather, she didn't have one she wanted to say out loud.

I let her sit in that silence for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Fine, if it makes you feel better, we can talk about something safe."

She shot me a wary glance. "Like what?"

I grinned. "What's your favorite sin?"

She groaned. "Oh my God."

I laughed. "Come on, don't be boring. Everyone has a favorite."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a small, reluctant twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping into something smoother. "Lust, maybe?"

She choked. "What? No!"

I chuckled. "You're blushing, Isabella."

She turned toward the window, her voice muttering. "I hate you."

I smirked. "No, you don't."

Silence.

She didn't argue.

Because she knew.

I exhaled, my voice softening just slightly. "You've always been drawn to danger, haven't you?"

Her fingers twitched slightly against her jacket. "That's not true."

I raised a brow. "No?"

She hesitated.

Because she was lying.

She had always been drawn to the things she shouldn't want.

To Edward.

To me.

I turned onto the familiar road leading to her house, the soft glow of her porch light cutting through the darkness.

"Tell me something," I murmured.

She glanced at me warily. "What?"

I smirked. "If he came back right now, what would you do?"

Her breath hitched.

Because she didn't know anymore.

She wanted to believe she'd run straight back to him. That she'd forget me, forget this, pretend none of it had ever happened.

But doubt was a powerful thing.

And I had already buried it so deep inside her that she couldn't tell what was real anymore.

I pulled the truck to a stop, letting the engine die.

She swallowed, gripping her sleeves. "He is coming back."

I tilted my head. "And if he's too late?"

She stared at me.

Silent.

Struggling.

Slipping.

I leaned in just slightly, close enough that she could feel the warmth of me, close enough that I could hear her heartbeat stutter.

"You don't have to wait for a ghost, Isabella."

Her breath caught.

Because she knew.

Edward was already starting to feel like one.

I leaned back, dropping her keys into her lap with a smirk. "See you at school."

She didn't move.

Didn't get out.

Just sat there, breathing too hard, thinking too much, caught somewhere between the past and the present.

And as I stepped out into the night, walking away, I knew—

She was already closer to choosing me than she realized.