Full Summary:
Bella falls in love with Edward, the sweet, disfigured boy she grew up with. When he dies in the Spanish influenza epidemic, she flees, completely heartbroken. Five years later she returns and meets an inhumanly beautiful, yet strangely familiar bronze-haired man who seems to hate her from the moment he sets his topaz eyes upon her. ExB Alternate universe.
Note: For the purpose of this story, Edward was born in 1900, Bella in 1902. There will be no werewolves.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
EPOV
It was the winter of 1906 when I first came to live at the Swan residence in Chicago with my mother, Elizabeth. My beloved father, Edward Sr., had perished when our house caught fire two months prior, and my mother was fortunate enough to secure a position with the local police chief's family as a housekeeper to preserve us from a life on the streets.
We had never been a family of means, and what little money my parents had managed to save up until that point went toward my costly doctor bills following the fire. And so that is how we found ourselves living in a tiny, square room in the grand home of the Swan family.
I dutifully assisted my mother with her tasks as often as possible, but considering the fact that I was only six years old, I wasn't much help to her and instead, often simply got in the way. Because of that, my days were usually spent either roaming the spacious grounds or hiding out in the library, in which sat the most exquisite grand piano I had ever seen.
Every now and then, Isabella, the Swans' only child, would join me outside in the meadow and keep me company, only to be scolded and dragged back into the house by her mother, Renee, not long after. Although Charles Swan had been kind to my mother and I by taking us in despite our unfortunate situation, his wife was not nearly as agreeable and only tolerated us out of respect for her husband.
Of course, I knew the real reason behind her distaste for us and her reluctance to let her daughter befriend me. I was reminded of it every single time I looked upon my reflection in the mirror and saw the ghastly scars from where the fire had ravaged my face the night I had tried, unsuccessfully, to pull my father from our burning home.
But no matter how often I was shunned by others for my sickening appearance, it seemed as though Isabella either didn't see my scars or simply ignored them altogether. She never once looked upon me in revulsion or disgust as her mother so often did. Instead, she treated me as if I were any other normal boy, bestowing upon me the title of best friend.
Of course, her reactions never ceased to surprise me. Our first encounter together should have given me some inkling of just how amazing she was, even at the tender age of four.
It was but my second day in the Swan house, and I was outside washing the only other set of trousers I owned besides the pair I currently had on, when I had the oddest sensation that I was being watched.
I had lifted my head and found myself staring into the wide, expressive brown eyes of a young girl with light blue ribbons threaded through silky, chestnut hair that went past her shoulders.
"Does it hurt?" she had asked in a small voice, gesturing to my scarred face with her hand.
I hesitated before answering, furrowing my brow in confusion. "Aren't you going to yell or scream or gasp in terror? Run away or something?"
"What for?"
"That's what everyone else does."
Her eyes widened in disbelief, and after a few moments of silence, she frowned. "Is there something wrong with me then?"
I chuckled at the cute, little brunette's bewildered expression.
"Why are you laughing at me?" she snapped, stamping her small foot and pursing her lips into a tiny pout.
My mouth lifted up on one side. "I'm the beastly looking one, and you think something's wrong with you?"
She let out an adorable sounding giggle. "You're hardly beastly. Just different." She shrugged and bit her bottom lip. "And besides, I like your hair," she added with a smile before reaching her little hand out and ruffling my bronze, wayward locks.
I had laughed and grinned for the rest of the day, feeling hope swell in my chest for the first time in weeks as I told my mother later that night all about the new friend I had made.
In truth, Isabella was the only friend I had in the world, save for my mother. After the fire, the other lads I used to play with wanted nothing to do with me, or rather their parents made certain their sons were to never associate with the likes of the hideous looking boy that I now was.
And despite Renee's insistence that she stay far away from me, Isabella seemed to take great pleasure in defying her mother. In fact, the older she grew, the more chances she took in sneaking off and meeting up with me either outside in the meadow among the sunflowers and dandelions or inside the library where we would laugh and tell silly jokes with one another as we sat on the floor, leaning against the bookcases.
Since I was illiterate, she would offer to read me stories of kings and queens and happy endings, all the while asserting that I could have a happily ever after of my own someday. Of course, I never believed her. Who in their right mind would want to live forever with a monster?
But Isabella, or Bella as I had taken to calling her--much to her mother's displeasure--was quite persistent that I was not a monster. She would constantly declare to me that I was so much more than a disfigured face. I often wondered if perhaps her eyesight were poor, because I certainly didn't see what she saw.
And it wasn't only in my appearance where she encouraged me. After seeing me gaze upon the ebony instrument with such longing, one day when I was but eight, she convinced me to lay my fingers on the ivory keys of her parents' piano. Up until that point, I never thought I was even capable of anything beautiful, but even I had to admit that the notes that echoed in the library that day, and all the days thereafter, were nothing short of remarkable.
It seemed I was a natural when it came to the piano. I could play anything I heard. Bella's favorite was Claire de Lune, a song which she made me play quite often for her. It wasn't long before I was composing my own works as well, and there was a small part of me--a tiny flame of hope that flickered inside--that made me believe that perhaps I could do something with my life one day that would make an impact on others besides scaring them half to death with just one glance at my loathsome face.
As the years passed, we were quite the inseparable pair when Bella wasn't in school. And while she spent her days learning in a classroom, I toiled away, working at her parents' home in whatever capacity needed to earn my keep. But as soon as she would come home, we would run to the meadow, hand in hand, where she would regale me with the new things she had learned, and I would daydream about how wonderful a place school must be.
Of course, I'd never attended classes before. I had been too young to go to school when our house was destroyed, and after the fire, my mother was far too worried about the reaction I would receive from the other students because of my abhorent countenance. Not to mention the fact that the older I grew the more I was expected to work around the Swan home so that my mother and I could continue to live there.
When Bella was nine, a local businessman in the pharmaceutical industry named William Black purchased the adjoining estate. His son, Jacob, who was eleven like me, began to visit often. When he first saw me, he recoiled in horror then made a joke about my unsightly appearance. And though I remained solemnly quiet--having been accustomed to the teasing and torment from people of all ages throughout the years--one punch from Bella's fist to his nose, had him apologizing profusely.
Surprisingly, after that day, Jacob became a trusted friend to both Bella and I, and I was grateful for another male to converse with, though it pained me whenever I overheard the various whispers, especially from Mrs. Swan, that both sets of parents were keen on pushing Jacob and Bella together into marriage in the future.
Did I love Bella Swan? Absolutely. I positively adored her for as long as I could remember. But who wouldn't? She was undeniably beautiful--more so the older she became--incredibly witty, charming, adorably clumsy, and the most sweetest, kindest person I had ever met in my entire life.
But I knew that nothing could ever come of my affections for her. She was a female of worth, while I was nothing more than a hideous creature.
Even when my mother passed away from an infection when I was twelve, and Bella begged her father to let me stay on as a worker, I wasn't a fool to believe that her pleading was due to anything more than fiercely loyal friendship, another quality for which I loved her.
And yet, there were times every now and then that her actions seemed to imply that she did in fact see me as more than a friend.
After my mother's death, Bella would sneak into my room at night and hold me as I cried myself to sleep. If it had been anyone else other than her, I would have been completely ashamed of my weakness. But that was the thing about Bella and I--we never had to pretend to be anything we weren't. We were always simply ourselves.
By the time we entered our teenage years, though I didn't think it possible, Bella and I grew even closer to each other. We spent the majority of our afternoons together as well as our nights, though we never ventured beyond the bounds of friendship. I knew that it wasn't proper for us to sleep in the same bed together, but I selfishly craved her company far too much to forbid her from climbing beneath the covers with me. And though we had many close calls, neither her parents or any of the other house staff ever caught onto her nightly visits.
Jacob still came by at least twice a week, and although I tried not to let the knowledge that she would likely end up marrying him bother me, I couldn't help but be pained with jealousy every time I saw the way he looked at her, or rather, at her blossoming body. And no matter how much I loved Bella, I would not stand in the way of her future happiness if a life with Jacob was what she truly wanted.
After all, he was the better choice for her. He was considered handsome by most of the girls our age--something I would never be. And his family was one of the wealthiest in the entire state, whereas I had but a few pennies to my name. Besides, though I constantly scoured the area seeking employment in a position where I would be able to support a wife, not even the factories were willing to hire an uneducated boy with a face as horribly scarred as mine.
No. I had accepted my fate. Bella would marry someone else and live a long and happy life, and if I was lucky enough, perhaps Chief Swan would let me remain in the house in exchange for the work I performed in and around his home.
Thankfully, Bella had other plans for me. Everything changed between us in the winter of 1917 on Christmas Eve.
We were snuggling together beneath the covers of my bed, talking about nonsense until just after midnight--simply wanting to stay up to ring in the holiday with each other--when Bella grew strangely quiet and seemed afraid all of a sudden.
"Are you all right?" I asked softly, stroking her chestnut hair out of her face.
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Edward?"
I was positive my face took on a crimson hue as well as I coughed nervously. "What?"
"Have you kissed anyone before? And I don't mean your family."
"No," I whispered, hoping she didn't hear me.
"Me neither."
My brow furrowed in confusion. "But, what about Jacob?"
"Jacob? Ew. That's just... sickening, Edward."
I chuckled at her disgusted response while my heart did an internal cheer. "But he told me that you had."
"Yes, well Jacob Black is a big, fat liar. I have never kissed him or any other boy for that matter," she muttered before burying her face into my chest. "Besides, there's only one boy I want to kiss," she murmured, though I didn't think she had meant for me to hear.
My breath hitched, and my pulse took off in a frenzy. "Who?"
Slowly, she lifted her head and locked her beautiful, chocolate eyes with mine. "You, stupid," she whispered.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.
Me? It couldn't be possible.
Her gaze flickered to my mouth as she slowly leaned her face toward me, and before I had time to gasp in surprise, her warm lips brushed against mine, sending a spark of electricity down my spine, all the way to the very tips of my toes.
Much too soon for my liking, she pulled back and flashed a relieved grin. "I've wanted to do that since forever," she admitted with a contented sigh.
I felt my mouth lift up on one side. "Really?" I'd certainly fantasized about it for years, but I had no idea that she'd ever even given it any thought.
She nodded shyly and laced her fingers with mine. "I... I love you, Edward," she confessed, biting her lip apprehensively.
My heart practically stopped beating altogether for a few moments before taking off with the speed of a hummingbird's wings.
I had never pinched myself to see if I was dreaming before, but I most definitely had the urge to do so in that moment because surely this was my wildest dream come true.
I was literally speechless, and I was sure I looked like a complete idiot with my mouth gaping open and emerald eyes as wide as saucers.
I simply couldn't believe it. I wanted to jump and down. I wanted to run around outside and scream to the world that Bella loved me. Me! I wanted to plan our future together. I wanted to kiss her again.
Her face abruptly fell, and I immediately wondered what was wrong. "Of course, if you don't feel the same way..."
I shook my head vigorously and inhaled a deep breath, trying desperately to find my voice as I clutched her small hand in mine. "Bella, I love you. Dear God, I love you so much. I have always loved you."
With that, her face broke out into the most glorious smile known to mankind as she practically launched herself at me, pressing her lips firmly against mine.
She threaded her fingers through my unruly bronze hair, twisting and pulling the strands in all sorts of directions, eliciting a groan from me.
I wasn't sure what to do with my hands, and I certainly had no intention of taking advantage of her, but I couldn't help myself from gently sliding one around her waist and pulling her warm body in closer to mine.
My breathing grew erratic as our lips continued to move hungrily together. She moaned softly, the sound causing me to shiver, though it certainly had nothing to do with the chill in the wintry air.
Eventually our mouths parted, and we held each other closer than ever, panting and grinning like fools, before finally drifting off to one of the best night's sleep either one of us had ever had.
From that moment on, not a day went by without us confessing our affections for one another and without at least a minimum of five kisses throughout the day, though that number was most definitely on the conservative side.
Who would have ever thought that anyone, let alone Bella Swan, would choose to love someone as monstrous in appearance as me? Of course, now that I had the heart of the girl I'd loved almost my entire life, I still had my work cut out for me.
We certainly couldn't live off of her parents for the rest of our lives, and neither one of us even wanted to begin to think of how to go about broaching the topic with her mother. No doubt, if Mrs. Swan were to discover our relationship, she would finish the job in me that the fire began all those years ago.
Whatever would we do?
Please review and let me know what you think. While I have the rest pretty much planned out and even have the next two chapters semi-written, I'd hate to bother with editing and re-writing if nobody's even remotely interested in reading it.
This fic will be very loosely based on the 2002 film The Count of Monte Cristo, though you definitely don't need to have seen it to understand the story.
