Hello all who are reading this! This is my first Twilight fic, so please bear with me those who are seasoned at reading Twilight fics. I might have deviated somewhat from Stephanie Meyer's creation of the characters, but isnt that what fics are about? Borrowing someone else's work and shaping it into something of your own (while crediting them extensively for the borrow)?
Anyway, I hope that this will go over well. I was at some unease at pursuing a Twilight fic, but at the same time, I wanted to test the waters of a new genre. So here goes my experiment.
Notes: Don't ask me why, but for some reason when I thought of Bella having a singing voice, I pictured Celine Dion, mainly because she characterized as being so lovesick in the actual series, and Celine Dion has an extensive collection of love songs. For that reason, when Bella is sining, and all the music she writes, I credit Celine Dion for the inspiration. I also hold no claim to her lyrics, or others mentioned in this fic. Also, though Edward and others retain their vampire-like beauty, I decided not to make them vampires in this fic....it just didn't seem to fit with the idea I'm going for. Finally, I have placed links for the songs used in this story so that you all may (if you chose) to hear what Bella is singing. Remember that when you listen to the song, you're hearing the digitally remastered version. Use your imagination if you're wondering what it would sound like with the instruments mentioned in the story.
If there's anything else I think deserves mentioning, I'll be sure to do so in later chapters. On with the show!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any of its characters. I also do not own any components to the Celine Dion song "If That's What It Takes"
Encounters
While everyone else on campus enjoyed the unusually warm October day, Bella Swan was in the school's music building, hard at work. Between managing her classes and the social life that her friends wished her to have, she never had many opportunities to work on her craft. Even today, when Angela begged her to take advantage of, most likely, the last warm day before the shift to winter, Bella had to politely decline. The warm day meant that everyone was more than likely outside, which meant she would have total peace within the walls of the music building. No distractions. No interruptions. No nothing.
So far, she had spent the last strumming on her personal acoustic guitar, followed by scribbling lyrics into a worn composition notebook. Then, once she was satisfied with at least three of four of the lines she had come up with, she would sing.
Bella loved to sing. Once, her mother had told her humorously that Bella had been singing when she came out of the womb. Though it had only been a joke, it certainly felt to Bella that she had been singing all her life. But only in private or in front of people that knew her and that she knew well. And she never sung her own personal work for others. She felt that her music would be interpreted as comical. Her songs were all about love, and that normally triggered a laughing response.
From an outsider's view – Bella could understand – that her lyrics would appear incredibly sappy, but in actually, the words told the honest feelings that Bella had on love and on loving someone. Love was the most complex feeling a human could feel. Words, even the sappiest words, sometimes were not enough to express what the feeling of being in love meant. She had heard enough relationship stories from friends, both good and bad, to inspire volumes of work. And even though Bella was yet to fall deeply in love with someone, she felt that if and when she did, it would feel exactly as the music she created about it felt. Writing the music gave her hope that when her time did come, it would be a blissfully exciting journey with someone she couldn't live without.
So Bella wrote her songs based on those feelings. She sang about what love would feel like to her when it finally encompassed her. She sang to the person she would finally give her heart to. She sang about their journeys together, the love and passion they would share. She sang without shame, but she still sung it all in private. Because even though she wasn't ashamed about her opinions on love, she was still shy at how those opinions would be received.
Bella picked up her guitar and positioned her fingers. Eyes focusing on her music book, she began to play:
You're the bravest of hearts, you're the strongest of souls
You're my light in the dark, you're the place I call home
You can say it's all right, but I know you're breaking up inside
I can see it in your eyes
Even you face the night afraid and alone
That's why I'll be there
When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend
Every beat of my heart, every day without end
Every second I live, that's the promise I make
Baby, that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes
If that's what it takes
Bella wrote this particular song after hearing from a friend about a situation she was in with her boyfriend. She was angry that her boyfriend wasn't spending enough time with her, because of his dedication to football. Even while he was having the toughest time maintaining first string quarterback, she still wouldn't support him. Bella didn't say it then, but she felt that her friend was in the wrong. Surely, a good girlfriend would want to be there for her boyfriend in all his endeavors, just like she would want her boyfriend to be there for her.
You can sleep in my arms, you don't have to explain
When your heart's crying out, baby, whisper my name
Cause I've reached out for you when the thunder is crashing up above
You've give me your love
When you smile like the sun that shines through the pain
That's why I'll be there
When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend
Every beat of my heart, every day without end
I will stand like a rock, I will bend till I break
Till there's no more to give, if that's what it takes
I will risk everything, I will fight, I will bleed
Every second I live, that's the promise I make
Baby, that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes
Bella knew in her heart that if she was in her friend's situation, she wouldn't complain about lack of time spent together. In all honesty, her friend could have just attended the football games, or maybe tried to work out a schedule for them around his own. There was an solution, Bella was certain. It may not be the easiest thing to find, but it was possible.
Through the wind and the rain, through the smoke and the fire
When the fear rises up, when the wave's ever higher
I will lay down my heart, my body, my soul
I will hold on all night and never let go
Every second I live, that's the promise I make
Baby that's what I'll give, if that's what it takes
If that's what it takes
Every day
If that's what it takes
Every day
Bella let the final chords of the song melt into the atmosphere, and listened to the sound of her instrument fused harmoniously with the remnants of her voice. The song was an old one, but it still gave her that warm feeling inside at its end, as did all her music. She sang it only as a means to warm up her voice, but before she could plunge into more recent work, she heard the frightening sound of a throat clearing.
Oh no.
"Wow." The word entered her ears in a low and distinctly masculine voice, as if some higher power was playing a cruel trick on her. Not only had she been overheard, she had to have been overheard by a man.
Bella's back faced the entrance door to the room – a stupid move on her part, she now thought. She craned her neck slowly around to see the body that went with the voice.
The cruelty of this trick went up three notches. Not only was it indeed a man, but it was the most gorgeous male specimen Bella had ever laid eyes on. He was incredibly tall, with broad shoulders and a slender frame. The bronze color of his hair glistened attractively in the light coming through the room's windows. That same sunlight accented the breathtaking gold of his irises. He was so beautiful, with impeccable facial features and full lips curved into a closed-lip mile, it almost hurt to look at him. So Bella looked away, an embarrassed blush covering her cheeks.
"You have quite a voice there." His voice didn't sound mocking, but genuinely appreciative.
"Thank you," Bella murmured, contemplating just how the hell she was going to get herself out of this uncomfortable situation.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," he added. "Please, it seemed like you were about to play another song."
"Actually, I was just about to leave," Bella said. She stood up quickly, holding her guitar close. "You can have the room, if you want."
"No, please, you were here first."
She insisted, "I'm done now, so go ahead."
The guy gave her a long look, but then shrugged. "Well if you say so."
As soon as he stepped into the room, and therefore unblocked the exit, Bella dashed out the door, not wanting to be trapped into any awkward pleasantries. Her heart pounded rapidly with embarrassment as she thought of the lyrics she had just sung. They hadn't been meant for anyone's ears, and especially not for this commandingly attractive male. Even though Bella had felt an unexpected warm at the compliment on her voice, it wasn't enough to shake the nerves of being heard. She didn't even have the heart to find another room to practice in. Instead, she headed back to her dorm room.
Unfortunately, it wasn't until quite late in that same day that Bella realized that in her rush to leave the room, she had left her composition book behind. Her body shook with fear as she pictured the book laid open on the music stand she was using, her words on display. She knew that if she were in the guy's position – or if anyone were to come in – they would be tempted to read. She would have been tempted herself. And her fucking name was on the cover as well, so anyone who did read it would know it was her work.
Damn it.
Bella knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until the book was safely back in her possession. Even though it was well into the night, she pulled an oversized sweatshirt over her pajamas, slipped into her flip-flops and left her dorm room. The keycards, thankfully, worked at all hours, so she would be able to get into the music building. She could only hope that her book would be waiting, untouched, for her.
Once Bella was inside the music building, she was surprised to hear the sound of music filling her ears. She wasn't aware that people would be using the music building this late at night. Surely, there were people who used the music building for more intimate matters at this hour, but certainly not for musical purposes. The music got louder and more distinguishable as she neared the room she had been using earlier. Her heart dropped at the sudden familiarity: it was the same song she had been caught playing. Though there was more flourish to the melody, and was being played on a piano, the similarities were uncanny. Someone was playing her song.
Now that she stood in front of the door, she was afraid to go in. At the same time, she knew that it was the only way to retrieve her book. Not only that, but now she had to banter with the musician in question, and beg them to stop playing her song. Her inner battle ended when she realized she had subconsciously turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
It was dark inside – the moonlight pouring in did only some much to light the room. Bella knew where the piano was, but couldn't see who was sitting behind the large instrument. What she did see however, was her music book, resting closed atop a desk. She walked over to it and pulled the item close to her chest.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and a voice filled the air: "I didn't look, promise."
The sound made Bella's heart speed up from its already increased beating rate. It was the same voice from today. The room was suddenly flooded with light. Bella's eyes went to towards the only other person in the room – the guy from before, now standing by one of the many light switches placed throughout the room. He smiled warmly at Bella, but she did little to reciprocate.
"You must have gone through my book," she said, her voice shaky. "How else are you playing my music?"
"I remembered it from this afternoon," he explained. "I'm afraid I never did introduce myself then. My name is Edward Cullen."
Bella narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't play my music," she said as firmly as she could manage.
Edward held up his hands in defense. "Alright, I won't play your music."
"What are you doing here anyway?"
"I wanted to make sure you got your book back. Not everyone is going to be as courteous as me by not reading it. And it was pretty obvious from your behavior earlier that the stuff in there is quite personal."
"So you were just waiting around for me to come back?"
"Is that so bad Bella?"
She gasped, "How do you know my name?"
He raised a curious eyebrow at her, then nodded towards the composition book. Instantly, Bella remembered the fact that her name was scrawled across the front in black Sharpie ink, along with repeated occurrences of "private" and "do not read".
A silly feeling came over her. "Never mind," she muttered. There was a long pause, and Bella shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Well thank you." She figured he was waiting for her to say that.
"You're welcome," he said pleasantly.
Bella turned on her heel to leave, but Edward's voice stopped her. "I know you didn't want anyone to hear you, but I just wanted to tell you that I truly enjoyed your song."
She squeezed her book tightly. "Don't ever play it again," she repeated, not turning around.
Edward chuckled, but not in a way that it appeared he was laughing at her. It was more of form or release if anything. Surprisingly enough, the laughter was comforting for Bella to hear. "I said I wouldn't," he said. "I just wanted you to know that it was very well written. I assume you wrote it yourself?"
Bella glanced over her shoulder at Edward. Now that her book was safely in her arms, she was becoming aware of other things. Like, for example, the fact that Edward was wearing a black marina that clung to him attractively and a pair of loose fitting dark grey sweats. She marveled the definition of his arms.
"Yes," she said finally, forcing herself to look away from him. "I wrote it myself."
"You're very good," Edward said. "I'd love to play for you sometime, while you practice."
"No!" she exclaimed, horrified at the idea. It was already too much that he had heard her music in the first place. He seemed surprised at her sudden outburst, so she took it down a notch when she spoke again. "I'm flattered but no."
He shrugged, and even that was a gracefully beautiful motion. "Why not?"
Bella clenched her book even tighter. "Just, no," she said pathetically. Then, she added quickly, "I don't want to keep you up any longer. Thank you again, good night."
Edward gave her a searching look. The intensity of his amber eyes kept her rooted to the spot. She felt as if she was trembling under the power of his gaze, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. But then, Edward's face molded into a warm smile. The trembling was instantly replaced with a melting feeling.
"Goodnight Bella." His voice had dropped several octaves and sent pleasant chills up her spine.
"Goodnight," she echoed softly. Then she left the room quickly before she began to pool in place.
Celine Dion, If That's What It Takes:: youtube .com/watch?v=D8ZOJj5ni44 (take out the spacing)
The chapter of my first Twilight fic completed! Please, I would really appreciate it if those who have read this would leave a review, so I can have feedback on how this was received. Cause I mean, if it seems like no one really likes it, or no one really cares about it, should I really continue writing it?
Anyway, the point is, reviews are always welcome. And I accept both the good and bad, so long as the bad are carefully constructed criticism, and aren't just unncessary flame.
--Brin--