I Thought You Could Never Love a Monster. I Was Wrong.

I stared deeply into his golden eyes. They shown through the night, the moon glistening on his beautiful pale face. But why was he here?

"I'm sorry I woke you, Remy." he smiled slightly, giving me no answer to why he was in my room.

I shook my head, "No. I-why are you here? A-and you didn't wake up. . ." my voice trailed off. I didn't want him knowing about the nightmares of my past.

He hesitated before giving an answer. His lips pursed, " I like to watch you sleep," he glided over and sat on my bed, "Your face is so peaceful when you sleep. When you dream, which isn't a lot, you lighten up, and you smile. But i've been scared from waking you up from your nightmares." He turned his head slightly then asked, "May I ask what they are about?" His eyes looked deep into mine, searching for something that was unknown to me.

I bit my lip, wrapping my arms around my legs, "I-I don't want to talk about it." I looked down, I didn't want him to see me like this. I knew i'd start crying.

Before I knew it, his cold hand was under my chin, lifting my head up, to make my gaze capture his. "I think you do, Remy. But you're afraid. I can sense that, and you must know that you can trust me." I looked into his warm eyes. They brought me to another world. I felt so safe and unharmed, like nothing was wrong with me. So I gave in.

I bit my lip harder. He was good. I was going to show him, all thanks to his beauty. I closed my eyes, "Okay. B-but you can't judge me on what you see. I-this is going to hurt more than anything. These memories and nightmares clash together and I-you're just going to have to see." I opened my eyes to see him almost hesitate, but I shook my head. I knew what I had to do.

"Okay?" I asked. He nodded and I got off my bed and walked over to the light switch. I turned on the light and looked over at him. His eyes widened for a second only to resume it's normal shape. He was gazing at me, but not in that perverted way. I was wearing short shorts and a tank, I can't blame him for staring at the shortness of the trims.

"But before I do anything," I said, then continued, "This is the only thing that I will show you for now. I can't take it to mix everything together. Who knows how bad it could get." I swallowed hard.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I grabbed the bottom part of my shirt and lifted it up. But I left my chest fully covered. I knew he was staring at the scars. The ones from the accident. And the one from the rape.

I didn't hear him move. But then I felt cold hands pulling me forward. I winced at the temperature, but I didn't mind. I opened my eyes to see Edward studying the scar that was to the right of my stomach. His fingers traced over the scar numerous times. And I had to admit, it felt good. His cold touch against my warm skin. It felt as if the scar wasn't there anymore. But I looked down to see the long pink line right where it was formed.

Edward looked up and met my eyes. He seemed to be worried, but looked at though a nonchalant person would be. I grimaced at the thought of him thinking that it was disgusting. How imperfect I really am. He'd probably leave when he got the chance. But he didn't. We stared into eachothers eyes for another few moments until he broke away.

"What this from having your appendix removed? I can only see certain parts from your memory, but I don't see this anywhere. Why is this such a bad memory?" he stood up holding me a little closer.

I bit my lip and shook my head. This wasn't going to be good. If he thought that it was my appendix, he was way off. But the thought of him seeing peices of my memories got me to think. Maybe if I let down my wall more, I could show him what really happened.

I glanced at his face, "I'm going to try something." And as he nodded fervently, I closed my eyes and thought of my past. But only the part from therapy to the part of the rape. I thought long and hard and crushed the walls with my mind. The pain from the pushes. The bruises I got from the force that they had. The searing aching pain that pulsed through my body when the sharp knife went through me. I knew I was breathing hard, and I would soon start to cry. These memories could kill me if they stayed long enough.

"Enough." his voice was harsh. I opened my eyes to gasp and try to control my breathing. I took few glances at him, to see his face could have killed me. The pain in his eyes deserted me. His face was full of anger, and pain.

I nodded and sat on my bed, still trying to control my breathing. I could feel the sobs coming through. I couldn't block them as they poured out. I gasped and sobbed and cried hard. This pain brought back took much. And I had no way to deal with it.

I felt his cold arms wrap around me and I decided to go through with it and curl up into his chest. I felt horrible for soaking his shirt, and I told him I was fine, but he let me get everything out. His hand craddled my face, and he kissed my forehead many times.

I remember him laying me down, but I refused to let him go. He had laid next to me, holding me close. I curled up into his chest again and fell asleep to Edward singing a lullaby to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edward's POV~

Looking at the scar made me wonder. I had felt it, and it wasn't as smooth at the rest of her skin. But what stunned me was why she had nightmares from surgery of removing her appendix.

I searched into her thoughts, trying to find the answers. I saw just flashes of her life, not one of them showing appendix proof.

"What this from having your appendix removed? I can only see certain parts from your memory, but I don't see this anywhere. Why is this such a bad memory?" I asked, unsure.

Her face was in thought before she answered. "I'm going to try something." And I was not sure what she would try, until she closed her eyes and opened her mind. I saw everything that she wanted me to see. Something was off about her therapist. Why would she need therapy? Her parents did die. I supposed that was it. But the anger inside me boiled when she was grabbed by two disgusting low lifes.

I could feel the pain she was in. The force she was given. How she was trapped. It tore my lifeless heart into shreds. But when they raped her and then came back for the kill, stabbing her with a rotten peice of sharp metal, I felt everything in me explode. I wanted to rip those men to bits. I wanted them to feel what she had felt. How horrible they should feel for what Remy had gone through. The anger in me was ready to go search for those monsters and destroy them. But I was taught to control myself, and that is what I did.

"Enough." I hissed, trying my best not to scare her. Her wall was back up, and she curled onto her bed and cried. I felt horrible for what she showed me. What she was the victim of. I could do nothing to help though. All I could do was calm her down as best as I could. I kissed her forehead, and held her tight, just to the point of not killing her. She was very fragile. Her sobs went to a stop as her eyes slid closed.

I moved her to a laying position and let her sleep. But she grabbed onto me, which hinted that she wanted me to stay. And for her, I would stay. I would treat her the way she was meant to be treated.

I held her close as she drifted off to sleep. Her scent was still mesmerizing to me. Self-control was key, though. And her beauty, which made my world spin, showed on her peaceful, yet pained, face. I felt the urge to kiss her lips. How smooth and beautiful they were.

I bent down and switched my mind to something more correct for the time. I kissed her smooth pale cheek. Inhaling her scent was enough for me. I layed myself down, still holding her, singing a lullaby that I had written for her.

I layed there, thinking about Remy. How she caught every male's attention, but she gave no response. Not to anyone, actually. She kept to herself, but had made some friends from what I could tell. But that wasn't as capturing as the beauty she held. She made me feel important, and it made me think of myself as a human again, and not a monster.

And I was starting to realize even more, that Remy Jones was my life.