Samstag, 28. August 2010


Es fing alles damit an, dass ich bei Schuelervz in diese wunderbare Gruppe gekommen bin und wundervolle Mädchen kennengelernt habe. Annie hat damals eine Fanfiction geschrieben. Sie heißt The Black Soul. Dann habe ich auch angefangen zu schreiben, was aber so ne Sache bei mir ist, weil ich mich immer wieder umentscheide. Mittlerweile schreibe ich fast garnicht mehr weil ich Angst habe, Dinge, die noch passieren können, bereits niederzuschreiben und sie dadurch nicht mehr geschehen können. Natalia hat mir damals vorgeschwärmt wie toll englische Fanfictions sind und hat mir 'Maria' gegeben. In allen geht es eigentlich um Edward und Bella. Ich bevorzuge die All-Human Versionen. Maria war wirklich... niedlich. Es hat mich von den Socken gehauen und ich wollte nur noch mehr. Mittlerweile habe ich 29 Fanfictions in der Warteschleife, diese kontrolliere ich täglich nach Updates. Ich gebe euch mal ein paar Ausschnitte und vielleicht bekommt ihr ja auch Lust. Und wenn ihr denkt, dass eure Englisch Kenntnisse nicht reichen? Das kommt, wirklich, und danach seid ihr soviel besser!

Under The Apple Tree

I roll into her and hug her to me. My arms are tight and she is secure. She is security. She scares the shit out of me, but this is where I feel safest. I don't know how. She pushes me away and this is where I feel the most desired. I don't know how. Her lips press into my neck and I want to fucking cry. It's so small. So light, but it's everything. I hold her tighter. Her face pressing into my neck, tucked under my chin.

My lips whisper desperately against her hair. "Please don't make me fall in love with you, Bella. I don't want to. I don't want to."

I feel her tears against my neck. "I don't want you to either."

I kiss her forehead. My palms are flushed. I pass them over her hair. I kiss her again. It's unlocking from me and I can't stop it. It's right there. In my palm. In my lips. I'm giving it to her and I can't stop it.

"It's just too easy, Bella. I'm sorry."

I keep giving it to her. I want to stop. The heat under my skin could burn holes. So could the feelings unlocking from within. My lips brush against her face. Her nose. The corner of her eye. Her cheek. It erupts and I can't recall it once her lips touch mine. It's official. It's there. It won't go back. And I give it all away.

She's holding onto me like I'm something. She's meeting my desire like I'm something to be desired. She's opening her mouth and letting me in. I can have whatever I want here. She's tilting her head and I want what I find. My fingers are knotted and curled into her hair. My need is there. I'm pulling softly and clawing. I'm kneading my fingertips into her scalp. My thumb is being gentle and on her forehead.

Desire leaves her lips. In short breaths. In soft sighs. In a strumming heart. It's against me. It's begging me. It's taunting me. It's telling me its okay. It lies and I need to stop.

"I want you to push me away, Bella. Make me stop."

Dead On My Feet

I march around the side of the house to tell him off, but I can't hold onto my resolve once I get a look at him. At first the only thing I see is the top of his hat above the steering wheel, on which he rests his forehead. I step slowly around the side of the car and see him clutching his arms around his middle like he's in pain. My first thought is that something is physically wrong with him – that he's sick and needs medical attention. Then I pause to take a closer look at him through the droplet-covered window. I didn't see it at first with his head bent like that, but his face is twisted up in pain and he's crying.

The cold, calculating part of my brain wonders whether I should call the hospital or his parents first. As I reach for my cell phone he shifts slightly in his seat, and I get a better look at him. He's not just crying, he's full out sobbing. No one can cry like that if the pain is in their abdomen, where he's wrapped his arms.

As much as I should hate his guts right now, I can't stand it that he's hurting. I open the car door, not without hesitation, and he turns his head to look at me.

"Hey." I reach out to touch him and he grabs my hand so hard it hurts. I guess I have a spare, but fuck… His head moves from the steering wheel to rest against my front.

"Please." His free hand fists around my shirt. I put an arm around his shoulders – he's trembling with tears that he's shamefully trying to quiet.

"Don't cut me out," he says shakily. Fuck me, please don't beg. "I've been a really shitty, fucking awful friend, but please…" A little sob escapes and fuck if that doesn't make my traitor heart melt.

Das sind nur zwei, aber zu mehr bin ich grade nicht fähig. Nehme mir jetzt vor, alles nochmal von vorne zu lesen. :D

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