Twilight Enmity Unbound

**The Seven Deadly Sins Twific Contest**

**Title:** Enmity Unbound

**Sin Chosen: ** Envy

**Word Count (without header):** 5322 words

**Summary:** For as long as he can remember he's wanted her, but she always evades him. When she marries his brother, his ego cannot cope and he strives to possess more than just his older siblings' new bride.

**Warnings:** Rated M for sex and general bad behaviour and infidelity.

**Disclaimer: **The author does not own any of the publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Enmity Unbound**

There is a fountain in the middle of the room; it is not your average water filled fountain. That would be too simple. Instead it is spurting champagne, surrounded by the elite guests at his party.

The room is full and all of the guests are dressed to the nines in the latest couture. An excessive stench of perfume hanging in the air clings to the back of my throat.

It disgusts me.

He makes them laugh and then walks away.

It makes me hate him even more. I consider the fact that he might have only invited me to show off but then I change my mind. He is my older brother and he isn't capable of committing such a sin.

I am. I am guilty of so many at this point, so many that I have lost count.

The haughty and pretentious gather around the exhibited business portfolio he is busy touting. It isn't like they need to boost his ego anymore, he's already made millions out of it and they already know what it is all about.

He is so busy these days that he forgets all about her. She sits quietly, smiling as her eyes follow him around. She catches me stood alone, she seems appears nervous at the sight of me.

I try not to hold her gaze for long, but I am no good at it. She is my one weakness. My Achilles heel.

I need her.

I want her, and she knows it.

I have always wanted her.

My need for her has only exacerbated my need to covet everything he has. Absolutely everything. At first it was only her. I saw her first, she should have been mine.

She turned me down at every opportunity and in the end married him. From then on it became impossible for me to not crave his life. I never wanted to go into business. I wanted to compose, to play.

He had the brains and the eye for the business world and I had the creativity and talent. I could have been a brilliant pianist, if I had never wanted her so badly.

A terrible reason to give up one's talents you might think, but once I knew I wanted her, it was all I could ever think about.

She seemed impressed by my brothers' business acumen, so I made it my mission to accrue a similar portfolio.

It was never good enough of course. He was always one step ahead. He was always better, a winner in every sense of the word.

The more he gained, the more I wanted.

When she married him, I had to up my game. I had to make her want me.

I pursued her, part of the reason she can hardly look at me.

~7DS~

The first time we were alone after their wedding she let me closer than she ever had before. Maybe she was feeling lonely, maybe she actually did like me more than she had previously let on. Either way, he was not around and I was. It was cold, I remember her being wrapped up tight in a sheepskin blanket, a gift from their wedding no doubt, watching a movie as close to the television as she could get. It had been a long day and I just needed some space, she had come back to our parents so she wouldn't be alone in their big house. I could not resist sitting close, she wanted to discuss the subplots, the subtle nuances in the script, the charisma of the lead actor and I just wanted to watch her passion for movies.

She became so animate when she was dissecting films, I could have watched her like that forever.

Before I even knew what was happening my fingers were running gently down her exposed arm. She had Goosebumps. They weren't from the cold. My lips were on her shoulder next, I felt her shudder.

Needless to say it does not go far. I shift my body closer to hers and she snaps out of the trance.

I didn't see her for weeks after that and when we were finally forced together, for another family dinner, you could immediately tell she wanted to be anywhere else.

I pushed myself harder after that to try and better him, I needed to show her I was better. I sacrificed sleep, food and human interaction. I resorted to unsavoury methods to try and topple him from his perch.

They continued to prosper. His business seemed to skyrocket and mine stagnated. I stopped going to events when I knew they would be in attendance. I stopped taking my parents calls. Seeing them reminded me of my failures.

I dated an endless string of emotionless and empty women. I could not succeed in a relationship as much as I could not succeed in business.

The next time I encounter her it is an accident. We are both in the same supermarket, her body language is off and she does her best to remain indifferent towards me. But I can see the cracks. We talk, actual conversation with no barriers. She seems to warm as we go along, I almost forget my extreme desire to win her over.

I still cannot seem to bring myself to care that she is married to my brother.

_I want her._

I invite her over to my apartment. She declines, politely, but it is still a no. I try not to let it consume me, not in front of her anyway. We go our separate ways outside the store and I drive home. By the time I get there I am almost so mad that I cannot focus.

I break an heirloom in my anger. I don't even bother to clean up the mess.

The next month passes in a blur. I research. I need to find a way for him to lose it all, I need to find a way to make it all mine.

I try to find a hole in his business plan, a weak link, a lie.

I allow my own business plans to fall by the wayside. I cannot bring myself to carry on with that, as expected it flops.

I move back home and sublet my apartment. My energy is still so focused on finding a failure in him. Anywhere now, not just in his business.

I run into her so much more now. I smile at her. I make sure she knows I'm here for her in subtle ways.

He goes away a lot.

She visits my parents a lot.

One day I come home to find her in the spot where I first kissed her. The blanket wrapped securely around her once more. The film she has on is dark and sensual, I walk in at the exact moment the young attractive actress is stripping. I say nothing. I watch as she becomes so intensely involved in the moment that she's creeping closer to the screen. It makes me wonder what sex is like for them, why is she so invested in this fake scene, does he not make her feel this way? It brings a small smile to my face. I bet he wouldn't know how to make her gasp and shiver like that. My eyes darken, I could. I have already done it and we were both fully clothed.

I must have laughed out loud, she turns and rushes to switch the movie off but it is too late. I am already moving towards her, inching her closer to the exposed brick wall beside the television. I take her hands and hold them above her head, placed gently against the wall. Her eyes are wide and she looks like she might break free and run at any moment. I waste no time. I mould my lips to hers and kiss her with such fervour.

For a second she kisses me back, I know she is kissing me back.

Later she will scream at me that she wasn't, that I should have left her alone. But we both know that she wanted it.

Again it only lasts for an instant and she is pushing away from me and rushing from the room.

This time I don't have to wait weeks to see her again. The next day she seeks me out.

She cries.

She screams at me.

I try and calm her, I try to tell her how much we are meant to be, how much I know she thinks of me. She tells me to stay away from her. She tells me I cannot touch her like that again, how wrong it is, how much it would hurt my brother and my parents.

I try to appear apologetic, I really do, but I don't do a good enough job. What a shocker, I am no good for anything. She tells me that I am reprehensible, that I cannot understand the damage I can cause. That I am spiteful. The opposite to my brother.

I clench my teeth, I hold in my anger for as long as possible but she doesn't escape unscathed.

I tell her she is a tease, that she knows she wants me. That she married him but she should have married me.

I leave.

I drink.

I book into a hotel and don't tell anyone where I am.

I drink some more.

My phone has been off for three days. My parents must have called it a dozen times a day. Their voicemails are angry.

He emails me, he is worried. The worst thing is his tone, he is genuinely upset and in no way patronising.

I seethe.

I get into my car and drive to our families second home. I call my parents and tell them where I am, I tell them I need some space, that the last few months have taken their toll and I need to think about my next steps. It leaves them appeased for a while.

I phone her and tell her where I am. I tell her that no matter how many cruel words we threw at each other that the kiss happened and that she wanted it. Her silence says it all.

I go to bed smug, I feel like I am on the path, it will not be long. I can feel it in my bones.

I stay in the waterside cabin for three days. I like the peacefulness and tranquillity.

On day four the rains come. They are heavy and unyielding, I was starting to feel lonely but I decide that I don't want to risk going back into the city during a heavy storm, I have enough supplies for the rest of the week and decide that it is probably for the best that I stay.

Around 3pm there is a persistent knocking at the door. I roll my eyes in the assumption that it is either my mother or father come to check up on me and slowly rise to answer. They both have keys but they're faultlessly polite and won't invade if they think I might not be alone. I never did anything to encourage them to treat me in such a way, I'm not sure that I deserve their courteousness.

As I pull the door open I am in shock. It isn't my parents. It is her. She is stood in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone, her arm still raised as if to knock once more. My mouth drops open and I step aside for her to enter.

I am speechless.

She uses the facilities to dry herself out and I sit motionless on the cool leather sofa.

I don't even offer her a warm drink, I am pretty sure I've lost the ability to make even the smallest move. Why is she here? The question rolls around in my head. She made it quite clear that she no longer wanted me anywhere near her.

I know he has been away for a long time now, she must be lonely. He's such a fool.

Maybe she isn't here for me at all, I think, but then dismiss it immediately. There is nothing else here that would cause her to come in a storm.

She walks back in so quietly that I almost don't notice her. She is wrapped in my gigantic woollen fleece dressing gown, it swallows her. He eyes catch mine and she pads slowly to my side before sitting down beside me. She isn't looking at me anymore, she is looking at the blank screen of the television.

I half expect her to start up conversation about the newest blockbuster she's fallen for but she says nothing.

Her hand creeps between us and I drop mine to sit next to hers, palm up. If we are doing this then the ball is in her court. She can make the moves. I am not going to miss watching it happen though, I want to savour it all. My eyes are trained on her gradually creeping hand.

As soon as we are clasped together she breathes out a sigh and closes her eyes. She still says nothing, it is like she's savouring the moment too. A small smile spreads over my lips, she is freely touching me. I realise that I must have some effect on her to cause her to want to track me down.

She pulls my hand into her lap and caresses my fingers making sure to touch every inch of available skin. Her breathing is uneven now as she swallows and wets her lips with her tongue. I am fascinated by every little move she makes. My mind is cataloguing everything.

She brings our joined hands up towards her chest and holds them over her heart. It is pounding dramatically.

She lets go but makes sure my hand stays where it is, palm open just to the left of the top of her breast. I daren't move it downwards.

But I want too.

Her body shifts to face mine. Her eyes are still closed.

I slide my hand down a little.

Her breathing hitches.

She doesn't stop me.

I move it a little more, under the wool of the dressing gown now.

She's so warm and soft here. A slight upwards curve that denotes the beginning of the top of her breast.

My thumb, facing downwards, seeks out her sensitive flesh. Her eyes are still shut but they're scrunched now, as if she's still unsure she's making the right decision.

I whisper how beautiful she is into the air and hope she catches it.

Her eyes unclench a little. I'm soothing her. I don't think I have soothed anyone in my life. This is a good place to start.

She shifts closer.

With her movement my hand slides delicately over her full breast. I enclose my fingers around her and twist so that I'm splayed with my thumb re-facing upwards. I use it to draw circles on her flesh.

She rolls her shoulders and my robe falls from her completely. It pools around her waist on the sofa.

She leans in closer and runs her nose along my neck, blowing soft waves of air against my heated skin.

I sigh.

I'm sure I hear her say 'I love you' against me, but I'm lost to her almost touch and don't have chance to think about it much further.

In no time at all, considering our rather slow start, she's kissing my skin with such passion and fervour that I can't believe it's actually her here. I pull her onto my lap and dip my head so as to capture her lips.

She's soft here too. She's all lips. Her hands are like whispers as they release my shirt from my chest. Her kisses are more dominating. I love this about her.

I've always been the sullen one, he was always the jolly one. Most expect me to be rough and forceful, but I'm not. I wouldn't be with her anyway, she needs gentle. I can be that for her now, this is the only gentle I know.

I lie back.

I let her have the control.

She undresses me completely and I lie there panting while she takes me in. I'm not ashamed, but I let my gaze soften as I watch her watching me. My body is something I rarely think about, I'm not amazingly toned but I'm not fat either.

Her looks scream of desperation, like she's been needing to see me like this for so long. I let one arm rest along my stomach and the other reaches to draw soft patterns against any skin I can reach. She's so warm now, I'm glad.

I close my eyes now as I wait, she moves over me and rests her head against my exposed shoulder before I feel her push down.

If I thought I was lost previously, that's nothing to how far gone I am in this moment.

I grunt.

I pull and push and pull again.

My head falls back and she places her lips against the full length of my neck as she kisses every inch of available skin.

My hands clench against the fabric and then unclench and then run along her skin.

I gently hold her bottom in both palms and guide her as much as I am able whilst pants of pleasure fall from my lips. I'm fairly sure I'm unintelligible at this stage but that's probably for the best.

She's writhing now, her sweat and mine intermingling as we slide along each other, no friction only heat.

She's getting louder now, tugging at my hair and nipping at my lips in a decant lust. Her breasts brush my chest and one hand moves to the small of her back to grip her tightly to me as she peeks and falls into oblivion.

I take over now, keeping her above me as she shakes through her orgasm.

I'm close, but I need to keep moving now, almost as much as I need air.

She doesn't seem to mind and brings her lips back once she's aware of her surroundings once more.

I'm shivering all over as I thrust upwards over and over, my eyes opening and closing slowly of their own volition. She's watching me carefully, watching and waiting. This spurs me on, my speed increases.

I pant sporadically, not bringing enough oxygen into my lungs before crying out and holding her against me as I reach my own orgasm.

I'm gasping for air as my head falls back against the sofa and she flops down on top of me.

We wake hours later, curled around each other. In slumber we've both managed to cover ourselves with the robe and stay warm.

I kiss her forehead. She doesn't stir much but I know she's awake.

I don't want to do anything that might ruin this moment but I'm sure she's already contemplating what happened.

I must drift off again because I startle awake at the sound of clattering coming from the little kitchenette. I can smell food. She must be cooking.

I stumble up and scratch my head in a daze as I wander to find her.

She's humming softly to herself as she prepares what looks like an omelette. She's so ethereal, so beautiful. I almost don't believe she's really here. The soft dusk light illuminates her through the large windows that face out onto the lake. I don't mean to stand and stare but I just can't look away.

She turns and catches me, her eyes look nervous. Like she thinks I might bite. I try to look softly at her, I try to show her with one look that I'm capable of love and caring. Her shoulders seem to lose tension and I feel success.

We eat in companionable silence and afterwards I clean up.

I don't ask whether she's staying the night, I just turn off the lights and take her hand. I lead her into the bedroom and pull back the covers. She looks unsure. I kiss her neck. I kiss her shoulders. I run my hands along her sides, around her hips, over her flat belly and up and up. I cup her breasts and rub soothing circles against her. I whisper that she should stay and she nods. My lips return to kissing her. I only break to breathe and whisper to her about passion and beauty and love. I'm so gentle.

As the sun rises the spell breaks. We made love well into the night. Her touch caused me to drop any pretence. I become someone new for the night, someone I've never met before. But I know it's only a matter of time, this side of me, this loving persona, it's only set free for her like this.

She makes breakfast and I ask about him.

Her eyes dull and she drops her head so that her chin is resting against her chest. You can tell she's ashamed.

It's my turn to play the fool. I should tell her all the things I keep inside. I should reassure her that I pushed and I wanted just as much as her. I should tell her, but I don't.

I wait for her to tell me why she came. I wait for her to explain why she fought my attempts at seduction for all this time and then came to me. Why she didn't go to him instead.

She shakes her head. She can't look me in the eye anymore. I tell her that she held the cards, that she took control, that she was the one who stripped me and loved me. I use my power against her.

I hear her tears before I see them. They fall and drip, drip, drip on the table.

She tries to talk, she tries to explain but her sobbing stunts her speech. I sit quietly now, my back straight and my eyes fixed on her. I don't even attempt to look welcoming or loving.

I want her to admit she needs me.

I want her to say she's going home to pack her bags.

I want her to say she's leaving him. She says none of these things. She only sobs harder.

I tell her she has a decision to make, I tell her that from the moment I saw her she was mine, that he'll never be me. I tell her she's settling if she goes back to him.

I don't tell her pretty things anymore, like I should, I make them sound harsh and I make myself sound cold.

Self-preservation.

Her face twists in horror and she leaves quickly, grabbing her small stash of belongings before running from me.

I simply let her leave.

~7DS~

I can tell that the party is close to wrapping up now. Soon I can leave, I can return to my quiet life. I nod at him across the room keeping my face straight the entire time.

I hate him, I won't allow him a smile.

I haven't communicated properly with any of my family since that night. I came back into the city but simply to give up my apartment for good. I move to a little place just on the outskirts of town, I don't tell them where I am. My rage makes it impossible for me to be anywhere near them.

I'm only here as a courtesy to my father and soon I can be gone again.

I place my glass of half empty champagne on the side table and glance once more at her, she's no longer at the table.

I shrug and move to leave, she made her choice.

I stand in the lobby waiting for the valet to bring round my car, this is where she catches me. I smell the soft floral scent of her perfume before I actually see her.

She's shaking. She's nervous.

Her demeanour screams submission. Her slumped shoulders and her downcast eyes.

"Sorry" She whispers.

"No you're not" I counteract. My tone is harsh, but this whole evening has rubbed me up the wrong way and I'm in no mood to be forgiving.

I leave her, striding purposefully out of the building and taking the keys to my car, forcefully, from the poor valet.

I wonder for a moment whether she's told him of our tryst, but I guess I'll never know. If she has and she's repentant I can imagine him forgiving her. He's just that sort of person. I smile to myself, the thought that he might have been more than a little hurt satisfies me. Maybe I can't be as successful as him, or as kind but that once I had power over his wife, enough that she came to me.

A few days pass and I sit at my piano. I start playing, something I haven't done in so long. I don't know how I allowed myself to become so detached from music or what led me to strive for my brother's life but it feels good to let go of some pent up aggression and just play.

I think I play solidly through the night. I don't eat dinner that's for sure.

When I finally move I'm so stiff that my knees creek.

The sounds of the cleaner echo through the house and I take myself into my bedroom so as not to get in her way. Most days she's the only person I'll see, I like it this way. I've already proved how terrible I am with human interaction.

This is how most of my days pass. I play and avoid most of everything else. I've even managed to sell some scores to reputable film studios. I find it easier to immerse myself in pursuits that suit me when I have nobody to compare myself too.

I've almost forgotten about the party. Almost.

I only go out to fetch the post. There she is.

She's stood stock still at the end of my drive. She looks so good, so beautiful. This fact alone causes my features to harden.

She isn't mine, something that still irks me.

We stand, facing off and yet neither of us speaks. She's gone through some effort to locate me but now she seems too afraid to make the move. I have Deja vu, I wait for her to come to me. When she doesn't come I turn and go back inside. She knows where I am, she can either knock or leave.

It takes an hour or so, but eventually the bell rings. I open the door and step aside so she can come in. She quietly makes her way over to my small sofa and sits curled up in the corner. She looks petrified.

I offer her a drink and she politely declines. She's so nervous, I sit next to her and lightly let my hand fall over hers, which is bunched in the material of her skirt. Her knuckles are white with the strain. I try to calm her with touch, I know that I will only cause her more stress if I open my mouth.

I wait patiently for her to speak.

She stumbles over her first words but I don't interrupt and gradually she becomes clearer. She's not talking about anything interesting at first, almost like she's afraid to say what she needs to.

My hand is still on hers when she blurts out the only thing I've been wanting to hear for a while now,

"I've left him."

The statement hangs in the air.

We're silent for a while, the only noise I make is a small cough. I'm at a loss, how do I even approach this? Months ago I would have revelled in this information but now I'm worried that any wrong move could cause her to disappear.

I always relied on her being his, I never thought there would come a day when she wasn't and so I'd always used it as a crutch. Now I was back to the beginning, I could win her over. The question was, how did I go so wrong last time and how do I avoid the same mistake this time?

"What does this mean?" I ask, if she's just come to say goodbye I don't want to waste anymore thought on plans of seduction. I'm sufficiently gutless that I would allow her to walk away without even an attempt at wooing her again.

"I'm…"

She lets that one word hang there and I'm unsure of where she might be going with it. I glance down at her free hand. It's circling her tummy, almost protectively. My eyes jolt back up to hers and back down to her belly once more and then back to her eyes.

She can't mean…

...but we didn't use…

...it's possible.

More than possible. Is this why she's left him? How does she know it isn't his?

"After you and me, me and him never...I just couldn't. It's yours."

I must have been speaking out loud.

To say I'm shocked is an understatement. I immediately pull my hand away and stand, I start pacing the room.

I can't talk.

I wouldn't know what to say.

"Does he know?"

"Everything."

"Right."

"He wanted me to stay, we talked about it. I couldn't though, not like this."

I understand, he's way better at this than me, he wanted her to stay.

I pace into the kitchen and take a can of pop from the fridge.

"Will you keep it?"

It's probably a silly question seeing as though she's here rubbing her stomach like that.

"Of course, there's no way I could…"

"Right."

Yes, of course. No way.

I sit. Then stand. Then sit again. I can't seem to keep still. I'm frightened to ask any more questions on the matter.

Do I actually want to be a father? Will she even let me?

This brings me almost to my knees. I can barely look after myself and I'm a terrible judge of character. I've spent my whole life coveting anything that isn't mine. What kind of a role model could I be?

I'm so wrapped up in my own inner monologue that I have failed to notice her tears. I pull her into my arms, the first act of comfort I think I've ever shown her. Words fall like the crashing waves over a waterfall after this and we talk for hours. She tells me how she found out, about how difficult it had been to make the decision. She tells me hard facts, things I need to hear but that hurt. She tells me how I made her feel like a possession, that I was never interested in her as a person but her as a commodity. How he always looked out for her but how I only seem to want to own her.

I cannot disagree, she's right. Every word that falls from her lips is true. I was so hell bent on getting my wishes that I didn't stop to examine the possibility that the chance to have what I wanted was always there, but that I had to see things as they truly were, not through covetous eyes.

The sun sets as she talks. I never let her go. I don't want to let her go again, but I know we have a long way to go.

When she's finally finished we both stand. I take her hand in mine and walk her to the door.

"I want you in my life, but only when you're healed enough to know how you want me. Talk to someone Edward, then you can call me. Please. I love you."

She ends with that bomb shell. She loves me? How?

I nod and as she leaves I finally speak up

"Yes Bella, I love you too."

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**The author thanks you for reading...Please leave them some love, and remember this is anonymous! **


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Twilight