I don't own a thing.
"Just go, Edward."
Pain shot through Bella's gasp into Edward's stone chest, echoing there as he tried to back away. The pain quickened like a dull surrogate heartbeat until it crumbled in the furnace of his anger. A trivial memory was tugging stray thoughts away from Bella's clear agony, and for once, Edward cursed his inhuman distractibility. Each fluttery tug at the edges of his mind seemed to scream that his soul was monstrously insensitive, that her simple, pure humanity would choke on his toxicity.
The persistence of the memory tugs told Edward that he was a monster,...
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