Plaintive Sighs
CatCooper
(Disclaimer: I don't own. Proud of it. I would steal someone else's identity to flee the shame of owning Twilight. But that's another rant for another time.)
Seventeen-year-old Edward Cullen sat in his living room after tucking his daughter in. He sighed plaintively, looking into the lit fireplace pensively. He glanced over at his wife Bella, who was giggling at Shakespeare’s perverted sense of humor, and sighed again. Her eyes flitted to his still form, uninterested. Edward continued to sigh, indiscreetly staring at Bella, waiting for a reaction.
“Edward, dearest, is something troubling you?” Bella asked after several more minutes.
He tried his best to look puzzled. “Now, my love, what might make you say something like that?”
She put down her battered copy of Romeo and Juliet, sensing a long conversation nearing. “Well, my beautiful god, I may not be the mind reader but…”
Edward chuckled. “Oh my sweet, sweet dove! How you make me laugh!” He was suddenly sullen once more. “Even on days as dreary as these.”
“What could possibly be dreary about the perfection we live?” Bella wondered out loud.
Edward sighed again, running a hand through his hair like he had heard a teenage girl say she found attractive. “It is but nothing, my delicate summer bloom.”
“Oh handsome one, you wouldn’t have brought it up if it lacked importance,” Bella reasoned.
Edward smiled slightly. “What a wondrous creature you are! To be able to tell when I am gloomy or desiring blood in copious amounts…”
“What might be the problem?”
Edward gave his dismal sigh once more. “Occasionally, I wish our lives could be something other than faultlessness. Besides the fact that I am most likely a pedophile and you have yet to make with one of the human race…”
Bella joined him in sighing. “But, my sweet, if your heart is young, does it matter if you are six and seventy years my senior? And my heart belongs to you, I doubt the fact that I never kissed anyone but a vampire and a shapeshifter who is romantically interested in our four-year-old daughter is all that important in the long run.”
“Mi rosa inteligente, you are, as always, correct.”
“And the first point you addressed is hardly material. Our lives may be perfect down to the last sparkly bit of skin and seem as if they were planned out by a woman unsatisfied by her own life, determined to create something perfect, yet I love being with you, Edward.”
“Say it again.” He closed his eyes and smiled.
“And the first point you addressed…”
“No. The part where you said my name.”
Bella and Edward Cullen would spend the rest of their lives pretending Edward hadn’t just quoted a movie, that draining adorable chipmunks and other woodland animals of their blood and life was perfectly, and that everything in their utopia was right as nature intended it to be.
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