Disclaimer: In case you can't figure it out on your own, I don't own Twilight. PS: the sky is blue. Yes, I wish I owned Edward Cullen. Or, more specifically, his delicious 2007 Aston Martin Vanquish S… wipes drool off keyboard
Excuse Me
Chapter 1
I pushed the button again, glaring at the deceptively lit "down" arrow. The elevator always took forever. I should have just taken the stairs, since it was only two flights down, but the stairs were on the opposite side of the library and, as usual, laziness had been my strongest motivator. Especially today. Today hadn't been so great.
The doors opened in front of me with a mockingly cheerful ding that make me glare at the red walls of the elevator before stepping inside and pushing floor 1. I leaned back against the rail behind me and tilted my head back to stare at the red ceiling. I actually liked the elevator when I wasn't waiting for it. The blood-red, so out of place with the dull grey-and-beige of the rest of the library, always made me feel like I was in some scene from a horror flick, or a Jackie Chan movie. I didn't realize that I had started to doze off until a sudden bump and another cheerful ding brought me back to reality. I recovered from my slouch with an inward groan, throwing my weight towards the door.
Only to collide with the chin of someone rushing to get on.
The impact threw me backwards, sending my bag and its contents scattering everywhere, and banging the back of my head against the railing as I fell. Before I could register a reaction, I was on my back, blinking up at the blinding overhead lights of the red elevator, with the doors periodically dinging, trying to close on me, and finding my legs in the way. Just freaking great. Could this daypossiblyget any better? I wondered, watching a single worksheet flutter back and forth above me before landing on my chest.
"Ugh!" I grumbled, snatching the page, and almost swatting the blurry silhouette that came quickly into view and then darted back. I heard the doors start to close again, but this time they didn't crush my calves. Perhaps the blur had pushed the 'open doors' button. I started to get up to see, but pain shot through my head, and I laid back down with a pathetic moan.
"Oh!" said a voice out of nowhere, "you really shouldn't move yet. You hit your head pretty hard on the back rail." It was a nice voice, deep but not too deep, a little dry at the bottom. I could hear scuffling papers, but the owner of the voice did not appear in my limited line of sight again. "I mean you really, really took me by surprise-" judging by his slightly frantic tone, the concrete block of a person I had run into was fine. That was something at least. There was a thunk beside me, and I presumed he had gathered my things for me. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"
I grimaced, still laying prone on my back, and opened my mouth to speak, which just ground my aching skull into the hard floor. I closed my eyes and groaned instead. I was not going to cry, dammit. Not in front of this perfectly nice stranger who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and fell victim to my inescapable clumsiness. Besides, I looked pathetic when I cried, all red and puffy and ridiculous; but when I felt a single hot tear run down my cheek, my resistance crumbled. I put an arm across my face to hide my quiet crying, though of course he would see my mouth contorted in the effort to stay silent. The fact that the kind blurry stranger would probably feel terrible, thinking I was crying because of him, only made me feel worse as I sat there leaking into the red elevator.
"Oh! I- I'm so sorry!" he said. See? "I'm sorry…"
"It's-" I wiped my arm across my face and let it fall "it's not your fault!" I opened my eyes to find him still blurry, poised beside me, hands hovering in mid-air as if he wanted to pick me up, but was afraid to touch me. "I'm just a klutz! I-if you h-hadn't been there-" have I mentioned that I also stutter when I cry? "-I would have j-just tripped over my o-own feet probably!" I sounded ridiculous, but at least the actual tears had stopped, so I sat up - a bad idea. My head swam in a rush of flashing colors, my stomach flopping, and for a moment I was afraid I was going to faint – just my luck – when suddenly I felt a solid weight around me, steadying me, as my eyes began to slowly re-focus.
I blinked to clear my head, and found myself staring at muscled arms barely contained beneath a black cardigan. Arms that were wound tightly, gently around me. I fought the urge to run my fingers over the soft fabric where they rested, and blushed. I was bright pink when I looked up into the face of my savior.
And what I saw quickly turned my cheeks the same color as the elevator.
He was perfect – or at least that's the word that was flashing over and over again in my mind: perfect. His skin was pale, but almost glowingly smooth, with high cheek bones and wild coppery hair that stuck out at odd angles, but still managed to seem model-flawless. His eyes were green, but that word didn't do him justice. The color was like a raindrop on a clover leaf – liquid and shining, with circlets of blue and flashes of pale, pale yellow against a deeply dreaming green. His eyes – his perfect eyes – shifted, and his brow furrowed.
"Are you all right?" he asked again, "you look dizzy."
Dizzy was an understatement. I was completely dazzled. I was sitting here in his lap, wrapped in the arms of this gorgeous thing, writing a romance-novel description of him in my head and forgetting to breathe. Dizzy didn't even beginto cover it. Maybe I'd hit my head harder than I thought.
"Ow!" As if angry that I'd forgotten it, my head – front and back – began to throb, until I could feel my own heartbeat pounding against the inside of my skull. I doubled over against the pain, but that only rested my head against his chest, where I froze. It was awkward. I should have moved. But…
But the sweater was so soft, and he smelled like… I didn't even know what. My blush deepened even further – I was probably one shade short of purple by now- but I couldn't bring myself to lift my head. I blamed it on the light-headedness. Don't want another head rush, I told myself. That was plausible. And my head was still aching.
Soft fingers swept my bangs aside, and rested against my forehead. "You have a bump!" he said, the obvious concern in his voice sending happy shivers down my spine. "And you're getting cold! You couldn't be going into shock?" His voice softened even as it became more panicked. I groaned again for my reply. I really was in miserable shape. His hand traced its way through my hair, gently stroking behind my ear and back, until he found the noticeably larger lump from the railing. He muttered something under his breath that was too quiet for me to hear.
"Is it all right if I carry you?" he asked.
To the ends of the earth, I thought to myself. "Mmm-hmm." I nodded minutely into the hardness of his chest without looking up at him, afraid I really would faint this time. He swept his fingers out of my hair and under my knees, cradling my head against him with his other elbow, carrying me like a tiny doll. How tall was he? He stood and I could feel the rocking motion of his step.
"You're going to be fine" his whispered, "you're going to be fine." I curled up against him and let out a sigh of relief. Anything that that voice told me must be true. He said something else, but I didn't hear it. I was drifting off to sleep in his arms.
Note:This is largely unedited, because I was short on time. I'd like to clarify some things, but it'll have to wait for chapter 2.