Authors Note: Throughout the whole Twilight series, I never thought Bella had any noticeable imperfections. Besides the clumsiness, or the way she saw herself, I thought general teenage problems weren't touched upon enough. Obviously, I am not critisising Stephenie Meyer, but it did allow me to write something here.
Thanks to Alex (Thats-So-Alex) for Beta-ing. She is fantastic!!
Of course, I do not own Twilight; that privilege belongs to Stephenie Meyer who we all love so dearly.
In Edward's words...
I allowed my thoughts to wander as Bella slept, far enough to explore the only types of dreams that a creature like me could experience, but as focused on Bella that I noticed her breathing was shallow, steady and peaceful to listen to, and her hand gently gripped my shirt at fairly regular intervals, as if it was a part of her night time choreography.
With reality firmly between my arms, and Bella's head on my chest, I closed my eyes and pictured myself as a human, an image that had long since been seen by myself, or anyone else, but often remembered to keep a grip on my humanity.
My mind focused particularly on my skin, and how it was the same temperature as Bella's, I blushed also, and we fit together. But I lingered on Bella's ivory, perfect skin, so flawless it was like a porcelain doll.
We were lying as we were now, only I was sleeping. Our breaths synchronised. That was until I noticed Bella roll over slowly, and I threw away the image of our human selves, spooning her as she slept.
The image of my captivating dream, that tormented me so, abandoned me, as I forced myself to focus on the present and the perfect woman beside me. She was perfect; it was me that had so many imperfections I was ashamed of myself. In my idealised dreams, it was only me that always changed.
Inhaling her antagonising scent, I pressed my lips against her sweet smelling hair, feeling their silky texture against my cool lips. Being next to her this way felt so right, so perfect. And I lay waiting until she woke, so I could lather her in as many gentle kisses as I'd allow, and stroke her hair and watch as she blushed and smiled under my delicate, cautious touch.
But then as the sheltered light of the cloudy day began to pass through the cotton curtains, Bella stirred. Grumbling slightly, she propped herself up on her elbows and leaned in to kiss me with a huge smile, delighted at my presence. It amazed me how much of an affect I had on her, simply by lying beside her.
"Good morning," I whispered, pulling away and looking deep into her eyes. They were tired but alert as she took me in too. I could have drowned in those eyes, falling head first into their enchanting glisten and staying trapped there.
"Toilet," She laughed, swinging her feet over the bed, hurrying out the door. I watched the back of her as her brown tangled curls fell down her back, and she pulled her pyjama bottoms up that had slipped an inch or two down from her waist. She was truly beautiful.
I rolled onto my back, crossing my arms and laying my head on my hands. I followed the swirled patterns of the ceiling attentively, until I heard Bella groan loudly from the bathroom.
"Bella?" I called anxiously, sitting bolt upright in less that a second, my ears instantly alert to only the sounds she will make.
"I'm fine." She sighed, and I moved to the bathroom door with one swift movement. The sound that she'd made was of frustration, or disappointment. And 'fine', in Bella's dictionary, usually meant definitely not.
"What's the matter?" I asked hurriedly. "Can I come in?" Reaching for the handle, my hand hovered waiting for permission. But my action was short-lived.
"No!" She all but shouted instantly. Alarm bells sounded in my head and I took deep, unnecessary breaths to control the urge to walk straight in and figure out what she was doing.
"Bella?" I asked firmly, a question I hoped she'd answer. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, Edward Cullen. Do not come in." She said slowly, simply, almost patronisingly in a way that almost tricked me into agreeing.
"I will if you don't tell me what you are doing." I threatened.
I ignored my conscience telling me I was being unfair and invading Bella's privacy, but instead, dwelled on the fact that this was Bella. She would say anything and everything to make people believe she was okay. She could be dying and try to get people to believe she was happy and well. So regarding Bella's well-being, I did not believe a word she said, made all the more worse by the fact her mind was protected by impenetrable steel barriers.
Suddenly, I heard the rustling of clothes. Bella grunted a little, and I closed my eyes, identifying the sound of cotton landing on the wooden floor.
"Bella?" I asked quietly, curious riddling my voice.
"I'm getting in the shower now, Edward, so unless you're changing your mind about the 'sex-after-marriage' deal then don't come in." The smile was evident in her tone, and curiosity crippled me.
"Wha-" I began, but I was cut short.
"I'm deadly serious. You take one step through that door and I'll take that as a sign your stupid deal is off." She snapped, and I heard the footsteps of her bare feet against the plastic bottomed shower/bath double up.
My mind began working over time, instantly, imagining what was on the other side. A part of me was still anxious, wondering what Bella was trying to hide with her secretive, snappy responses. But another part of me acknowledged that with a slight push of a handle, I could see everything that I'd dreamt of, leaving nothing more to the imagination.
She'd meant it as a deterrent, but she had no idea how much I was contemplating barging in on her shower as she water began to run, and the pipes creak as they supplied her with warm water. Blocking out the image of water running over her body, I sat on the floor outside the bathroom, ready for anything she may need me for.
I focused on the dangers I'd be putting her in if I went into the room, the damage I'd cause. Finally, I'd got Bella to agree to marriage, and ridding her of her fear for other's opinions of her, her parents, and the supposed disgusting though of her in a wedding dress.
I, however, found the thought truly wonderful, but also it made me thirsty; thirsty to see her in the flesh wearing a beautiful white gown walking towards me. As she showered, my mind traced the delicate patterns of the material, exploring every trimming, and stitching that I imagined it to have.
Eventually, the water stopped.
"Are you okay?" I called as I heard the weight transfer from the bath to the soft bath mat and the scraping of the shower curtain along the rail.
"Fine," She answered, causing my to grit my teeth in frustration to her typically Bella answer. "I just took a shower!" She exclaimed, but the lie was evident.
"You're not telling me the truth," I accused. Even without looking at her, I could smell the blush as I'd caught her out, and the sound of her stutter to try and convince me I was wrong. "Bella, what's the matter? Are you sick or something?" I asked, standing up and leaning against the door frame, my face inches from the closed door. "Is it your period?" I asked, although I could have guessed not, the scent of blood wasn't there.
"No!" Bella answered quickly, and I closed my eyes. I didn't understand why she was being so secretive with me…
Still leaning against the door, I breathed deeply.
"Are you dressed?" I asked quickly, moving my hand from the door frame to the handle. When Bella didn't answer for a moment, I listened carefully. There was a rustling of material and I waited until it stopped to enter.
But Bella was standing next to the skin, combing her hair in a towel with her back to me. Her long brown hair lay wet against her bare shoulders.
"Does that mean the deals off?" She suggested seductively, but still she didn't turn around. My eyes scanned the back of her, looking for any sign of what might have been bothering her.
"No," I growled, screaming at her in my head for driving me so wild. Bit by bit, she was eroding away control. "Turn around, please." I asked, approaching her. I put my hands on her shoulders, and spun her round when she did not do so.
Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned at me angrily as my hands remained on her shoulders. I scanned her face, looking for any danger. Her eyes widened a little, their brown depths boring into me, and her nose had a single water droplet on the end which fell as soon as I transferred my gaze to it. On her chin was a small red blotch.
"So what's the matter?" I asked again impatiently, scanning the rest of her body. I focused my mind on any imperfections I may find, any scratches, bruises, whatever may have caused Bella to hide away instead of her perfections. I ignored, with as much determination as I could manage, her body that called to me.
She frowned again, pouting slightly. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red which made her curse under her breath.
"Fine, Mr Perfect, I have a zit," Bella admitted, pushing me away from her and turning her back on me. I stood with my eyebrows raised for a moment before turning her around to face me again. Only briefly did I glance at the small red blotch on her chin, before looking in her dark brown eyes. They appeared to be glistening with the threat of tears, something that scared me.
"And?" I asked.
Bella blinked, and a small tear trickled down her cheek. One single tear, but that was one tear too much. My pale finger wiped it away delicately, and she tingled at my touch.
"You are so perfect, and I try to forget about how awful I am in comparison to you," She began, "and then I get reminded by it with my pathetic human skin, and my great big zit!" Another tear fell, a vital clue to how frustrated and embarrassed she was by something that is so natural.
Her words hurt me.
Whenever she told me how perfect I was, I felt guilty. She thought me to be this wonderful, amazing person when in fact I was a monster who had killed, who had caused pain, who continued to do so. Yet, she loved me. When she called me perfect, I felt like a fraud because she only knew half of what I was. She did not see the monster who hunted with vicious black eyes. Nor did she know the full extent of my abilities with my superhuman strength.
And then here she was, a beautiful young woman who captured my heart so completely and filled me with so much joy. She thought she was awful in comparison to me, when the truth was, there was no comparison. Bella was worlds apart from me in every possible way, in beauty, in inner strength, in courage and kindness.
And the final thing; did she really think me so shallow? Did she honestly believe me to love her only for her dazzling chocolate eyes, or her sleek brown hair? Did she think that my love was only to the extent of her slender figure and tender touch? I loved her on the inside too.
"Oh, Bella," I sighed, wiping another stray tear. "You'll never learn, will you?" I smiled as I cupped her face in my hands. My eyes were fixated on hers. "It doesn't bother me, not even in the slightest."
"Well, it bothers me," Bella snapped stubbornly, pushing me away. As her palms touched my chest, I felt giddy. But also sadness as it was an act to separate ourselves. "Can you give me a minute?" She asked, not facing me again.
I didn't answer but walked out of the room slowly, closing the door behind me quietly so that the click of the hinge was the loudest sound.
Returning to the bedroom, I lay back on the bed, my chest a little tighter than before. Again, I let my mind wander from this antagonising situation to further things. Again, it all came down to my being and the question of my humanity. Again, I wished I could be human so Bella could be happy and be given the life she deserves.
Bella emerged from the bathroom a few moments later and feebly approached the bed. Her hand kept twitching towards her face, but she often dropped it again before she touched it. Her nervousness and embarrassment was odd; we'd passed those barriers a long while ago.
"What are you doing?" She asked, edging closer to the bed. She was dressed now, no longer in her towel, but in jeans and a sky blue t-shirt.
"Thinking," I informed briefly, sighing and sitting up. Bella walked slowly to the bed, as if in a new place. It seemed inane that she was awkward in her own bedroom.
"What are you thinking about?" She asked cautiously, her face in fixed concentration. It was times like these that I wished I could read her mind; truly see what she was thinking. It would be easier for me, as Bella struggled saying some things aloud.
"You," I smiled, "What else?" That made Bella shrink backwards a little, and she sat on the bed with her back to me. Again, I wished I could read her, or even see her beautiful face. Her beauty would amaze me for every day of forever; I would never grow accustomed to her angular nose, her blushing cheeks or shaped eyebrows.
"Do I repulse you?" She asked weakly.
For a moment, I was silent. But in that moment, in my mind, my thoughts all screamed at me, telling me to comfort her, but I was too shocked. Repulse? That's a word given to disgusting things that repel; how could Bella describe herself that way?
"I do, don't I?" She hammered when I did not answer.
"Bella, of course not!" I exclaimed, trying to move her shoulders around to face me, but she resisted. "It's a spot, Bella, its normal."
"Not for you," She protested.
"Only as much as my lack of sleep is to you," I argued. "Bella, love, I know there are differences in this relationship, but I wouldn't change anything about you. Nothing," I repeated, trying to get her to turn around.
"It's not even as if I can cover it up with makeup with your eyesight," She sighed and finally, after all my efforts, turned to face me. I made an obvious thing to make her see I wasn't looking at that minute red blotch on her chin, skipping it entirely and looking straight into her eyes.
"You remember what you said when you first found out about me?" I whispered, leaning closer into her. We had not discussed this for so long. "We were driving back from Port Angeles, and you were telling me your theories," The memory in my mind was as clear as the present, "After telling me what you thought, you said 'It doesn't matter to me what you are', can you remember?" I asked gently, laying my hand on hers as she nodded slowly, her face fixated as she tried to remember. "Well, guess what Bella, it doesn't matter to me either."
"It doesn't bother you that I'm growing a second head?" She asked bitterly, but I rolled my eyes. Her 'second head' was tiny, and really, only a small red bump on the end of her chin.
"No," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "If you can love me for what I am, a monster, then I can love you and your 'second head'," I tried to suppress a laugh although a smile was definitely there. "More of you to love," I added jokingly.
Bella turned around to face me properly, face to face. Again, my eyes were focused on hers as she smiled.
"You best hurry up and make me a vampire." She muttered, and I sighed at her casual tone; it was a huge change.
"I'll do my best," I smiled; thinking now was not the time to pursue the mission of 'delay the change'. I leaned in to kiss her, and as soon as my lips touched hers, I forgot about everything else, about Bella's ridiculous speculations about her beauty, and the differences between us. I kept a part of my mind on my control, but only a small section.
The sooner Bella was a vampire, the sooner I could touch her with less restraint. My mind wandered back to Bella in the bathroom, in the shower.
This 'second head' of hers did not bother me; what bothered me was my control, and with each day a little more was revealed, I did not know how long I would last. It was only a matter of time before there would be no differences between us.
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