DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight. I own a pet, and she likes everyone more than me.
Also, this is a body-positivity and self-love fic. Enjoy. :) Also, this is a oneshot.
I often wonder why people are so quick to judge a book by its cover.
Don't get me wrong; I think we all do it. Especially when buying a book, which is ironic. Still, that doesn't mean we should. I scroll down the YouTube comments, seeing comments on how a model is too skinny, or too fat, or how a person has this fault or that, or how perfect someone looks (don't get me wrong —one can never get enough of Jared Leto). Still, I'm left wondering. Why do we place so much value on looks? Why must we focus on the exterior and use it as an excuse to overlook the deadness inside? I see fans willing to excuse their favorite boy bander (is that a word?) of bad behavior based on the fact that they look so dreamy, or that they're just too angelic. Why do we let ourselves be blinded by a shell that breaks, ages and dies? When you're old and gray, will you care your husband used to be the hottest boy in town? I know I won't; I'll care about whether or not he listens to me, makes me laugh, matches my morals. I know it's a cliché; 'the cover is all there is'. But it's not cliché, because not nearly enough people believe it. If—
A noise startled Bella from her writing spree. Smiling, she realized it was just Edward, her best friend, placing a tray with dinner in front of her.
"Can't stop the flow of ideas?" He asked, trying to peer at the blog she kept, but she just closed her laptop and smiled brightly.
"You know me. Near midnight is the best time for writing," she said, eyeing the chicken Alfredo in front of her hungrily. Faintly, she realized the last time she'd eaten was about five hours ago. Oh well. "What are you doing here, though? Didn't you say you'd swing by early tomorrow morning?"
Trying to act like a lady, and not the hungry creature she was, she first took a sip from the Ginger Ale bottle that Edward had brought. God bless him.
"I was, but then I realized tomorrow's looking a little tight. I've got exam revisions all day, and coming by first in the morning would just stress me out." He sat on her bed, watching as she turned in her chair to contemplate more her good looking friend. He gave her a crooked, amused smile. "What're you thinking about so hard over there?"
She munched her meal absentmindedly.
As usual, Edward was a great cook.
"I was just thinking—"
"Good. Something new for you. Keep up the good work."
She chucked an eraser at his head, then kept talking as if he hadn't interrupted, ignoring his snickers.
"I was thinking about the shallow world we live in. Why are good looks so important? You know, I work so hard on my body positivity blog, but I realize that as much as I try, there's always hurtful comments in social media that tells girls they should be this, or they should be that. For boys, too: You should have muscles, you should be tall, you should be dashing, but you can't seem as though you care. It's exhausting sometimes. I just wonder if my voice will ever reach anybody."
His laughter stopped as soon as he heard her first sentence.
Sighing, he seriously thought of an answer.
Bella had always been his beautiful best friend; however, when they'd been in high school social pressure had led her to anorexia. He'd hated looking at her so gaunt, so sure there was someone in the mirror that wasn't her. Then they'd graduated, and she'd been so rigid with the weight gain and taking control of her life that she was led to the other extreme. She went from being flesh and bones to being some forty pounds overweight. And it pained him, watching her eat through her insecurities. Stretch marks marked her arms and stomach; he'd accidentally seen them once or twice, and she'd flinched as though she'd been physically punched.
"I'm not bothered by you seeing the extra fat. It's there; that's obvious. But it breaks my heart that I led my body to these scars." She had said once, quietly, and he'd understood that was all she'd say on the subject.
He couldn't tell her she was perfect; she was scarred on the outside, as well as inside. He still thought she was beautiful, but he remembered the admiration he'd once held for her, before high school. When she thought herself beautiful.
Everybody had different demons.
Hers was her body; his were different.
"You know, I don't think beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Edward began, vaguely registering the surprise on his best friend's face. "I think it's in the person. If you think you're beautiful, you are. Nobody can take that away from you. If you don't love yourself, who will love you? If you think you're ugly, who will find you pretty? It's all about how you feel inside." He sighed, not liking the subject. It always left Bella questioning her beauty, her worth. She was worth everything, and it pained him to think she didn't believe it.
"Misery loves company, is what you're saying."
He nodded.
"Or happiness hates misery, however you want to look at it," he shrugged. "I think there's a lot of pain in the world. Not enough people love themselves; not enough people are happy. So we tear each other down, in hopes of making ourselves feel better. We think that if perfection is achievable, and since we're not it, then nobody else must be. So when we're done tearing each other down externally, we aim for the inside. We think perfection is the rule and flaws are the exception —when it comes to other people. When it's about ourselves, we're flawed creatures, and we can't let the world tear us down —so we must tear others down first. It's what I think, at least." He shrugged, grabbing a pencil Bella had left on her bed and twirling it in his fingers.
Bella stared at him, her chocolate brown eyes as intent as always.
"I think you're making a difference in somebody's world. And for that one life you saved, it should be worth it. Humans are scared of being outcast, and you showing people they're not alone, well, it's a relief I'm sure they're thankful for."
Really, thought Bella. Edward's the one who should be a writer. Screw med school.
"You're so pretty," Bella sighed, for the first time in years voicing her thoughts on his looks. "Why are you friends with someone like me? I'm such a downer, and I'm not gorgeous like you, and—"
"And you have a vagina as opposed to a dick, and you talk a lot about people who criticize other's looks, but not enough about you criticizing yourself." Edward deadpanned, tired of the subject. He'd never liked Bella's compliments of his looks; she always said them with hardened eyes, with a longing gaze, with a wounded look. Never admiring; never positively.
Bella sighed.
"I'm sorry I'm such a Debbie Downer today. I decided to watch a new music video of this band that cast a plus-sized model as their main girl. Some comments were good; others weren't. It pisses me off that the fact that she's not a size 0 is even being talked about."
Edward perked up at the mention of the video.
"Oh, that one? I saw it. Ho-t," Edward gave her a salacious look jokingly, making her laugh and chuck another piece of eraser at his head.
"Right? I honestly hadn't even noticed it until somebody pointed it out," Bella sighed, cracking her fingers in a way that made Edward flinch. She loved doing it because she loved torturing her friend. "Anyways. Tell me how today was."
"Hot. This global warming thing is seriously dehydrating me." He huffed, tugging at his t-shirt's collar; she rolled her eyes.
"Oh no. Global warming is making you sweat. Quick —tell the penguins we have new worries and to take a number." Bella deadpanned, making Edward laugh. His Adam's apple bobbed, and she saw that indeed there was sweat trailing down his neck.
"Come on Bells, be real. Nobody would aid the Biology major when they could be helping the gay penguins —which, mind you, I found their story terribly adorable. But didn't their love epic end in one of the penguins finding new love with a female penguin?"
Bella shot her friend a puzzled look.
"I wouldn't know. I don't tend to follow penguin news."
He sighed dramatically.
"On the other hand, Tanya is pressuring me to have sex, and I told her I'd have to seriously think about it." He told her seriously, as though Bella would believe his story.
Tanya Denali. Bitch extraordinaire; that was no exaggeration. Nothing nice ever came out of her mouth; but, she supposed, nice things came into it, from Edward's point of view.
Bella snorted.
"Oh really, she's pressuring you? Careful you don't cave, then. You've gotta have a steadfast belief in your morals," she rolled her eyes, not quite sure if she found Edward simply ridiculous, a poor cornered bastard or an idiot.
She was leaning towards all of the options.
"Yes, she is. Why does nobody believe me? Jasper outright laughed in my face when I told him."
"Because you're not a virgin, and you've had sex with Tanya already. Multiple times, if her bragging holds any truth at all."
He had a look too smug for comfort.
"We have; although maybe she should've kept that to herself," he shrugged, like he couldn't be bothered to follow that train of thought. "The thing is, I want her to formally introduce me to her parents, but she won't. So I'm doing a sex embargo until she caves."
Bella raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I realize I'm the chick in this relationship. Not that I agree with the stereotype; in my experience, guys are always clingiest."
True enough, Bella supposed.
"You're just extra clingy, Edwina," Bella snickered at her not-clever nickname and finished the last piece of her chicken. Edward was impressed, as always; somehow, he always managed to miss her devouring her food, though he always got to enjoy the look in her face as she gave the last few burps of satisfaction.
True friendship meant you could let out natural gas in front of each other.
"You're hilarious," Edward said in monotone. "Please crack another joke."
"I would," Bella said off-handedly. "But that would require me breaking your face, and I've been told Tanya likes it."
This time it was her who had to dodge the eraser.
They spent the next hour cracking jokes, poking fun at each other and watching musical parodies —Bella found most of them distasteful or just cruel, but Edward was in love with a channel's parodies.
"Swing by tomorrow afternoon," Bella bid him adieu at the door of her apartment, smiling. "If you're still resisting Tanya's wiles."
"Trust me," he said with a sour face. "She's one tough cookie to crack."
-.-.-.-.-
Bella Swan and Edward Cullen met on the first day of elementary school. She'd been psyched about the school year; there was a gap between her teeth where a baby tooth had fallen, her long brown hair had been carefully braided by her mother, and she wore squeaky clean Mary Janes. Then along came Edward —even back then he had unruly bronze hair, sharp green eyes and a crooked, devilish smile. She'd been playing house with Angela Weber and Jessica Stanley —she'd grow to maintain her friendship with Angela, but not with the obnoxious Jessica— when two little boys had come up to them. Emmett McCarty and Edward Cullen had been tasked by their fellow classmates to go terrorize the two girls, and they'd been only too happy to oblige. However, as soon as they'd opened their mouth to speak nasty words that only six-year-olds could spew, a small blur of movement had crashed into them, yelling 'tag!' and hurrying away just as quickly. They'd learn, later, that the blur had been Alice Cullen, Edward's twin and Bella's future best friend.
Intrigued, the girls had watched as the two boys forgot all about their evil plans, and instead became engrossed in a new game.
"Who's it?" Bella had asked Edward, who was closest to her. He was hiding, looking furtively left and right.
Suddenly, an evil smirk had spread throughout his face.
"You're it!" He laughed, and he ran away, leaving in his dust a shocked brown-haired girl, who had to take a few seconds to understand the deception. Once she did, though, she let out a warrior's cry and had gone after him full speed.
At twenty-one, Bella still didn't let Edward forget their first conversation had been based on him tricking her.
He'd never seemed remorseful.
"Get this, though," Bella said through the phone; she had it pressed between her shoulder and ear as she painted her toe nails. "He's pressuring Tanya into letting him meet her parents. They've been dating for a year; it should be a fucking given that he already should've."
Alice harrumphed.
"Bella, are you talking with your phone pressed between your shoulder and cheek? It's 2016, woman! Put it on speaker phone, I can't understand shit you're saying."
Huffing, Bella did as told, unwilling to admit she should've thought of that first.
"Anyways," Alice continued as if she hadn't just chastised her best friend. "You were talking about the she-bitch and my twin."
"Technically, a bitch is a she, so it's redundant."
"I swear I'm going over to your apartment just so I can slap you. Hard."
"I love you too, pixie." Bella said happily, admiring her handiwork on her right food. She sucked; the nail polish had gotten all over her skin, but she figured the water would wash it away. "So, yeah. Tanya might not be as serious about Eddykins as we thought she was."
"But we never thought she was serious."
"Correction —as Edward thought she was." Bella groaned when she bumped her big toe into the bed sheet; great. Now she had to do over the paint and get the polish off of her sheets somehow. "Fucking A," she muttered to herself.
"I don't get what you're waiting for, Bells. You should've told him how you feel like a decade ago."
"I did, remember?" Bella hummed, admiring her handiwork once more. Fingers crossed she wouldn't ruin it again. She once spent a whole afternoon fixing her nails, only to give up like five hours in and just removed the color entirely.
"Saying to your secret Valentine when you're eleven that you like him does not count, Bella," Alice snapped, clearly annoyed.
"Whoa, what's got your panties in a twist? My reluctancy to take a step forward is nothing new. You've known since day one that it would take me anywhere between a month and two decades to profess my feelings. So, what's up?"
Bella could almost see Alice deflating on the other end of the line, the fight leaving her.
"I think Jasper's cheating on me." She said, no beating around the bush.
Bella blinked, surprised.
Jasper? High school sweetheart Jasper?
"What makes you think that?"
"He's hiding something from me. He won't let me read his texts, even though I never do it on purpose. He comes home late every night. When we have sex, his mind seems to be elsewhere. Bella… I'm scared I'm losing him." Alice admitted quietly, as if ashamed of having insecurities.
Bella would've been more pitying if she didn't know the truth. Jasper was going to propose soon, and she'd never seen the poor boy more nervous about anything. She'd found out when she'd gone to the Cullen household to retrieve something for Edward and had found the boy asking permission from Dr. Carlisle Cullen to marry his little girl. Jasper had been forced to fess up; he told her he hadn't found the ring yet, but he was searching desperately every time he had free time. He was terrified he'd get the wrong ring for the fashionista.
So Bella did her best to lie, even though she sucked.
"I think you ought to talk to him, if this worries you so much. You've been together since sophomore year of high school, when he transferred from Texas. He loves you, Ali-cat. Give the man some credit."
Alice's deep sigh resounded in her bones.
I'm sorry, Ali.
"Yeah, you're right, as usual. But I was serious when I said I don't know what you're waiting for. Edward's not gonna be single forever."
Bella frowned, staring confusedly at her cell phone. Were they talking of the same twin?
"Alice, Edward's not single. He's pressuring said girlfriend into acknowledging him formally as her boy toy. I cannot see any scenario where my admittance of my feelings is taken positively."
A deep sigh.
"Why'd you always speak so weird, Bell?" She heard the shuffling of papers over the line. "And I refuse to acknowledge Tanya as Ed's better half. You're so much better for him. She's got no class, no sass and no ass."
Bella pursed her lips to keep from laughing out loud; Alice was obviously proud of herself for her truthful rhyme.
"I'm funnier than you," Bella countered. "And a poet at heart. It's in my blood." She admired her handiwork of the other foot, and carefully stretched both legs to try and avoid the fresh nail polish from bumping into anything. "And we've been over this, Ali. I'm not—"
"If you say 'appropriate for him' I will shove my high heel up your ass. You cannot keep doing this to yourself, girl. You speak so much about body positivity in your blog —which I'm close to finding out your pseudonym, by the way— but you put yourself down like this. Why?"
"I'm a hypocrite?" Bella muttered, hearing the microwave ding. Yes! Her popcorn was done. She had a microwave all to herself despite there being another in the common kitchen. She just didn't like waiting around for food. Besides; people tended to try to steal from her. "I don't know, Ali. 'Do as I say, not as I do'. Wasn't there some saying like that?"
She heard an exasperated screech over the line.
Yup; another of her talents included annoying Alice into dementia.
"You better be prepared for a girl's night out tomorrow. I need to release some stress, and by Joan Rivers you're coming with me and that's that."
"But you know I don't drink. Or dance. Or have fun in crowds." Bella whined, opening the piping hot bag of popcorn.
"Tough. I accept the not drinking part —I think it's admirable, and Heaven knows Rose and I need a designated driver. But you're dancing sober and you will have fun."
Fun had never sounded more violent.
-.-.-.-.-
"Alice, this doesn't fit me!" Bella whined for the fiftieth time. Rolling her eyes, Alice went over to assess her best friend. Rose was laying spread-eagle on Bella's bed, blissfully ready to go… and asleep.
"Of course it does. You look beautiful. Now stop whining. You knew you were going to wear something revealing, and yet you decided to gorge yourself on empanadas. We warned you. You didn't heed our advice. Now suffer."
Alice could be such a prickly little thing, Bella thought darkly, looking at herself in the mirror in every possible angle. Thankfully her weight gain had been pretty balanced; she just looked thick, and there were parts that looked slimmer. She still had her curves, and depending on the angle she looked at herself she looked thin. If she squinted. And looked at herself through the reflection of Ali's eyes.
Ok, so she shouldn't have eaten those empanadas.
But they smelled so good.
"Al, why can't I just go in jeans? You know I dislike wearing such short dresses," Bella tried one more whine, and Alice, who'd started flattening Bella's hair, gave a hard tug.
"Because you look hot and that's that. If you keep questioning me, Bella, I'm going to make you look like a hooker. And not the type anybody would want to fuck."
Sighing, Bella gave in, letting her fashionista friend finish, meanwhile glaring at Rose for being so impeccable with much less effort.
Alice and Bella had met Rosalie Hale the first week of college. Well, Alice had met Rose, to be more precise. Both were Interior Design majors —or something like that. To be honest, Bella never quite finished understanding what Alice's major was. She'd asked time and time again, but time and time again she forgot. Digressing. Rose had been the major hot freshman. Everybody and their cousin wanted to get together with her, but Rose had been an impenetrable fortress, having just gone through a tough breakup (Royce? Royal? Her ex's name had been something prickish like that). Then one day Alice had invited Rose to a group outing, and the Ice Queen had been swept away by the charming Emmett McCarty. Like, almost immediately swept away; they were just as lovestruck today as they'd been the first months of getting to know each other.
"He saved my heart," Rose had admitted quietly, baby blue eyes misty with love for her bear of a boyfriend. "I didn't think I could love anybody ever again. Then he just…" Cue dreamy sigh. "He made me fall hard and fast for him."
Which was how they liked their sex, too, if the noises that had permeated from the paper-thin walls of Rose and Emmett's room was any indication. The couple rented an apartment with Jasper and Alice; Bella would've been jealous that they all lived together, but it was easier to amass pity for the poor people that had to bear Emmett's snores. She was pretty sure that Rose was three snores away from choking Em in his sleep.
When Alice was done with Bella's hair and makeup, she had to admit that her friend had done a pretty good job. She didn't normally wear makeup; she preferred letting people get used to her ugly mug and then stun them whenever she put on makeup. In high school she'd worn makeup every day, but it had gotten boring after a while, and every time she forgot putting makeup on people thought, without fail, she was sick. Tired of that, she'd left behind her every-day makeup for college and had instead returned to wearing it for special occasions.
"I'd take me out on a date," Bella admitted, admiring herself on the mirror.
Alice smirked in a way that resembled her twin way too much.
"Hopefully, someone will do much more than that." Alice snickered, doing the finishing touches of her own makeup. "Virgin at twenty-one. Seriously, how have you survived so long without sex?"
Bella was not amused.
"Because the opportunity has not arisen," Bella muttered, half-heartedly glaring at her friend. Seriously? It wasn't like she wanted to be a virgin; she just wanted to be in a relationship. A loving one. She'd come close once, in high school; but Mike Newton had taken one look at her protruding ribs and had high tailed it out of there with lame excuses. Whatever; it worked out in the end. Jessica took one for the team and started dating him senior year, and after a few failed sexy times, had fumed about Mike being… tiny.
Tiny heart, tiny penis. It made sense.
"Oh please, Bells. How about that guy in your class? Jacob Black? We all know he has a thing for you, but you won't give him the time of day." Rose grumbled, finally waking up from her beauty sleep. "You should let him fuck you and be over with it."
Bella rolled her eyes.
"Don't be crass, Barbie," she purposefully used the nickname Rose hated most. "Besides, if he seriously likes me, it would be cruel of me to use him like that. He's not a toy; he's a guy with feelings. It wouldn't be fair of me to give him false hope while having feelings for Edward."
She hadn't needed to tell Rose of her feelings; the first time she'd met the duo, she'd pulled Bella aside and told her seriously:
"Girl, you seriously should never gamble. You have a terrible poker face."
It was the truth.
"Bella, if I didn't love you so much I would kick your teeth in," Rose said calmly, smoothing down her hair.
Bewildered, the girl in question lifted her shoulders in typical 'what the hell' position.
"Why's everyone so violent against me today?"
Both girls rolled their eyes. Freaky.
"It's not just today. We're always like this, and yet you love us."
"Your confidence in my feelings is refreshing. Not even I have so much faith in them."
Shoes were thrown at her, and when they arrived at the club, Bella was sporting two bruises; one on her right arm and one on her shin. Even for a week afterwards, Bella did not let either girl forget about it.
The night itself had been uneventful; they'd (Alice and Rose) drank, and they'd danced and they'd flirted with strangers. Not Bella, though; she was too shy, too self-conscious for that. The most exciting moment of the night was when Bella had to call Edward to come help her and what happened afterwards. The girls were too drunk to be coerced into the car, and they were too heavy for Bella to carry alone. So Edward arrived with the respective partner of each girl; Jasper carried Alice princess-style, and Emmett gave Rose a piggyback ride, the blonde beauty resembling a monkey with how she hooked onto his back and refused to let go.
"Did you have fun?" Edward asked, driving Alice's car. Bella didn't have a car, though she could drive, so whenever they went out Alice typically handed over the keys to her yellow convertible Porsche and let Bella drive. Not that she was complaining; she loved Al's car. She never could've or would've bought it for herself, but the Cullen family was beyond rich, and Alice was flamboyant as only she could be. Now, though, she was tired, and she was willing to bear with Edward's grandpa driving they'd be arriving sometime next week.
"I did," Bella sighed, glad for the air on her face after having to bear the human heat for so long. "But the club is definitely not my scene. I have fun watching Ali and Rose, but that's as far as it goes."
"You didn't pocket any numbers from lucky guys?"
"I pocketed my Ginger Ale bill," Bella retorted, unwilling to point out why no guy asked for her number, either. She didn't feel like dealing with her self-esteem issues at this time. "What about you? Is Tanya finally cracking?"
He flashed her an amused smile.
"You must have a lot of faith in me; it's only been four days since the embargo began, and we normally go without sex that long whenever she has her period. The real trial starts now."
Bella thought she was going to be sick.
"I'm thinking of accepting Jacob Black's offer to take me out on a date," Bella blurted out.
What the fuck.
No she didn't.
His eyebrows almost climbed into his hairline.
"Really? I thought you only saw him as a friend," he commented, taking a right and making Bella lean slightly towards that side.
Of course, Bitter-ella thought, observing the lack of reaction. He doesn't care.
"I do," Bella answered smoothly, already used to crushing her feelings beneath rocks and weed. "He's a nice guy, and he's very good looking. He thinks I'm beautiful, too. I don't see why not."
Edward frowned.
"You're going to go out with a guy because you think 'why not?'. What about waiting for the right guy and only going out with someone you know? Isn't that what you've always believed?"
Yes.
Instead, Bitter-ella came out.
"Some of us don't pick the fish in the ocean. Some of us have to make do with the fish in a tank," she muttered, looking down at her chipped nails. She'd have to get on that, too. The last time she painted her hand's fingernails had been last week.
Edward's exasperated sigh wasn't lost in the wind.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, because it'd break my heart to think that's how you thought of yourself." He cast a angry glance her way, which she pointedly ignored. "You're a kind, intelligent girl, Bella. Any guy would be lucky to have you."
She bit her lower lip hard.
"But I'm not beautiful. I don't feel like it, at least. You yourself omitted calling me that, because you can't lie to me. And whatever I may be inside, it's sort of worthless if nobody's willing to overlook the exterior."
He hadn't ever called her beautiful.
Not that she cared. Not at all.
The car came to a screeching halt; she could see the light from the dorms from her spot.
Edward was uncharacteristically furious. Like, darkened eyes furious.
Bella couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him like that.
"You need serious help, Isabella, if you think the only way for anybody to love you is for them to overlook your exterior. If someone needs to overlook your exterior, they're an asshole. They should love the way you look. And I haven't told you you're beautiful because I didn't know if you'd believe me. Because who'd want to be questioned on what they believe? If you don't believe you're beautiful, what does it matter what I think? I'm just your friend. You wouldn't care."
Bella felt like the breath was knocked out of her.
Blinking back tears, she forced in a shaky breath.
"Of course I care, Edward," she said in a small voice she didn't recognize on herself. "You're the man I've been in love with since fourth grade, when you told Eric Yorkie that he'd be eating dirt for the rest of the year if he ever pushed me again. You're—"
"Stop." Clear. Frustrated. Desperate.
So much was said in just one word.
So much was felt and shattered.
Her mouth twisted downwards; she could feel the beginning of a well of tears threatening to unleash. But she had too much pride; if nothing at all, she had that.
"I see." Her voice was tight, hurt. It broke, and she hated herself for it. "Well, I'm walking the rest of the way. Don't worry; I can see the dorms. I'm sure I'll manage to fend for myself these last few yards."
"Bella—"
"No," she said softly, shaking her head. "You didn't want to hear what I had to say; now I won't hear you. It's what seems fair to me."
She refused to turn to look at him.
Opening her door, she put a foot out. The skirt rid up; thick legs stared back at her. The word chubby flashed behind her eyes.
She let out a humorless chuckle.
"I always knew you were out of my league."
Then she finished getting out, slammed the Porsche door shut, and walked the rest of the way home.
-.-.-.-.-.-
"Open up!"
"Go away!"
"Open up, damn it!"
"Alice, I swear on everything that's holy that if you don't go away right now I'll start a fire with my microwave, and I'll lock myself inside."
There was a long silence, before a a quiet 'fine' was heard.
Bella let out a breath.
"Oh, fuck that," she heard Rose say, and then both girls were in her room.
"What the hell? How did you get in?" Bella exclaimed, outraged, watching as the two girls strode in confidently to the unoccupied chairs. They carried with them industrial quantities of ice cream, popcorn and sodas.
"I had made a copy of your key when you weren't looking," Rose answered, shrugging when Bella started cursing at her. "It was a precaution. Obviously, I was right to do it."
They stared at Bella.
As they should've. She looked like hell and she knew it; she hadn't bothered taking off her makeup or her clubbing dress, and her hair felt disgusting. She hadn't showered since Friday, which was when they went out.
It was Monday.
"You look like fucking hell," Rose said bluntly, breaking out the Ben & Jerry's. "And it's disgusting that you're in what you wore when we went out. You should've at least changed to something that didn't smell like pot and tequila."
Bella shrugged; she'd spent so much time crying her nose had been clogged most of the time. It hadn't made much of a difference, really.
"I'd ask if you're ok, but obviously you're not." Alice said quietly. Too quietly; Bella rarely saw Alice so low-key, but she was. Frowning, she got up from her sprawled position to seat against the headboard of her bed. "I'm sorry, Bells. I feel like this was my fault. Like I pressured you into confessing."
Her eyebrows raised.
"No, Ali. God, no. Of all the things you've pressured me into doing, this wasn't one of them." Bella teased her, trying to lighten her up. Just because she was bitter didn't mean her friends had to be too. "It was my decision. Rash, yes. Stupid, definitely. But mine."
Alice let out a shaky sigh, nodding slowly.
"What happened? You only sent us a message that said you got rejected and to leave you alone for a while. Now, details."
And so Bella gave them, eating ice cream and chugging down her favorite Ginger Ale.
When she was done with her story, Alice was a few seconds shy of going to her twin and letting him have a piece of her mind.
"It's ok, Alice."
"No, it's not! He's your best friend, damn it. He should've at least heard you out. It was cold of him not to," Alice muttered, fire in her eyes as she uncharacteristically started chewing on a nail, blue eyes flashing. "He's gonna hear from me alright. You're getting an apology."
But Bella shook her head fervently.
"No. Alice, I don't want to see Edward. At all," she admitted. "Please. I don't know when I'll be, but I'm not ready to see him. Don't make me talk to him."
"Fine. When you're ready, then."
It turned out that Bella wasn't ready for the rest of the school year, and instead of going back to Forks with the twins for the summer she visited her mother in Phoenix, Arizona. Renée and Phil were happy to receive her, and Bella did her very best to act normal, but she knew her mother suspected something was wrong. One night, after catching her in the bathroom throwing up her meal, Bella finally caved and told her suspecting mother of what had happened.
Renée had been surprised, to say the least. She told Bella she'd always known of her feelings, but that she'd suspected Edward had felt the same way, from the few times she'd met him. Bitter-ella had told her how it was all in her mind, and how happy Edward seemed with Bitch-ya. Ok, Tanya. The nickname didn't really work out for her, much as she wished it.
After crying it out with her mother, Renée had warned her that should she ever catch Bella throwing up her food again because of anything other than food-poisoning she'd put her across her knee and then ship her off to a food disorder center. She'd seen her losing weight drastically, Renée had told her. She'd already lost seven pounds from refusing to eat, back in college. In Phoenix, she'd taken to jogging every day, and by the end of the summer, she'd lost another ten pounds healthily, plus the four she'd lost while trying to hack everything back up. She still had extra weight, according to her BMI, but Renée had dismissed it while cursing the unrealistic measurement.
"You look beautiful, honey."
And she felt it. No, Bella hadn't suddenly gained an impressive self-esteem, or had had a makeover done on her or looked drastically different. But she felt better. She still had the same face, the same big ass and lack of boobs. Stretch marks still marred the same parts of her bodies, and she still flinched when she saw herself in the mirror. But it felt like she could breathe a little easier, like she could like herself a little more. She made an effort to feel good about herself, because she wanted to.
And she blogged. Oh, how she blogged. She spoke of throwing up, of the pain of getting up every morning to run, of having to bear the new looks she was getting from men. She was, fundamentally, the same person; just happier. And because she felt happier, it showed. People liked hanging around people who looked happy.
Happiness hates misery, Edward had said.
True enough.
The whole way back to college, Bella contemplated where she stood with Edward. She hadn't talked to him since early March; now summer had come and gone, along with her twenty-second birthday, which she normally spent with her friends. She was terrified of what the people that had seen her through her worst would think about her best.
But, as it was logical, she had to face the music.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Knock, knock.
Frowning, Edward opened the door to his apartment, which he rented with a nice enough guy called Tyler Crowley. It was the day before the start of classes, and already the college was buzzing with activity.
"Yes, who is it?" Edward called, even as he opened the door in his boxers and scruff. Truly, ever since his breakup with Tanya he'd stopped caring much about his appearance. Not that he'd ever cared much to begin with; but for the last month, he'd stopped going to the gym, he shaved irregularly and his hair could really use a haircut.
Something about the situation with Bella had really taken a toll on him.
His breakup with Tanya had been related to Bella's confession. Not directly, he didn't think. But once he had the idea in his mind —that his best friend had been in love with him for so long, and he'd never known, he'd been unable to kick it. Every second he spent with Tanya, he asked himself if that would hurt Bella. Every time he insisted to his girlfriend to introduce him to her parents, he wondered to himself if Bella would have done that. He wondered, if he hadn't known Bella as long as he'd had, if he would've fallen in love with her as quickly as Emmett had fallen for Rose. Eventually, it had gotten to a point where Tanya couldn't stand him, and he couldn't stand her, either. He couldn't stand himself either, for that matter. Something about how he'd handled Bella's confession didn't sit well with him.
He missed her.
He wondered how badly he'd screwed up.
"Edward."
It was only one word, but Edward had committed that voice to memory since the first grade.
Suddenly, the door flew open. Bella blinked, startled, her hand previously ready to knock again, should her best friend not have heard her. In the next second, she was in Edward's arms; he was crushing her to his chest, apologizing, telling her how much he'd missed her.
Smiling softly, Bella apologized for blowing off his calls, and told him she'd missed him, too.
They set apart. One was looking better than ever; the other could've used a makeover. Funny, Bella thought. For once, the rolls are reversed.
"You look amazing," Edward complimented, and he meant it. She looked like she'd lost weight, but he wasn't sure where, because he'd never cared much either way about her weight. But he knew her clothes fit her better, and that she looked a little taller —though she was still well over a foot smaller than him. She just… looked better.
Briefly, he remembered his crush on her in middle school. Back before she cared what anybody thought of her, before she'd become a woman… Before she started attempting to destroy herself from the outside in.
"Thanks," she blushed, and the memory of the two of them persisted in Edward's mind. He remembered going to watch some movie with Bella, and turning in the middle of the movie to make a smartass comment, but stopping himself. He'd watched the light from the movie bounce off her face, and she'd been smiling real big, and somehow she'd stolen the words from his mouth. She hadn't noticed, of course. He doubted she knew of his year-long crush; it had subsided when they'd entered high school and she'd become overly concerned with her image. The Bella he'd known had faded, little by little, until he could vaguely recognize her. These days (well, before their mutual avoidance of each other) she'd attempted to get better, to go back to the cheerful girl she used to be. But she'd held onto Bitter-ella (as she'd once told him she called herself sometimes) with fierceness, wearing the cynicism as a protective wall.
"Thank you for coming," Edward said quietly, opening the door wider for her to come in. "Want something to eat?"
She nodded, hungry as always. Giving her his crooked smile, he closed the door behind her and went to the kitchen.
"You look like shit, by the way," Bella called out to him, following her best friend. She was lying, of course; even hobo-ish as he looked, he was still the most handsome guy she'd ever met.
He shot her a look over his shoulder, pulling out the salad and spaghetti.
"Thanks, friend," he retorted, finishing bringing out the ingredients. She set about pulling out plates and cutlery. "I haven't gone to the gym in a while, and obviously personal hygiene has been one of the last things on my mind."
She noticed.
"Why?"
"Because I haven't had a girlfriend to nag at me that I look hideous in well over a month," he retorted, giving Bella a meaningful look. "You were right about Tanya. She didn't like me all that much. But these days, I see I didn't like her all that much, either."
Good.
Bella hated how the news made her heartbeat speed up; she thought she could feel her heart flutter in her tongue.
True story.
"Why?" She asked again, sitting down on the kitchen island, observing him cook. They both knew she sucked at even cutting vegetables.
"Because…" Edward sighed, not knowing how to explain it. "Because I realized we weren't meant to be; our relationship had become comfortable, but meaningless. She also… She said some mean things about you. For some reason I could laugh when you poked fun at her, but when she said it about you, I was livid." He sighed, breaking the uncooked pasta into pieces that could fit the pot he'd filled with water. "It seemed like she suspected what happened between us. I didn't appreciate her reaction, and things just spiraled down from there."
Bella bit her lip.
"I'm sorry I broke your relationship. I'd be more apologetic, but then again, it's Tanya."
Edward snorted.
"Don't be. I shouldn't have stuck by her for so long."
And then they continued talking as though nothing had happened. As though they hadn't not spoken the last few months, as though Bella hadn't told Edward she was in love with him, as though Bella didn't look better than ever and Edward didn't look worse for wear. They were great at pretending; but later, when Edward asked her to cut his hair, as she always had, Bella couldn't help bearing her soul to her best friend as she snipped hair away.
"It really hurt me, that you wouldn't let me finish telling you my feelings. I know," she interrupted his attempt at justifying himself. "I know that you were with Tanya, and it wasn't fair of me to lay that burden on you. I know I'd feel conflicted, too, if someone confessed they loved me while I was in a relationship. But I'm not just 'someone', Edward. I saw you when you had your first pimple, and you saw me when I got my period in the middle of P.E. and thought I was dying. You knew me when I got my first kiss, and I knew you were you started growing a beard. We've known each other for longer than we haven't. It wasn't fair to me, your best friend." Bella said, for once laying her feelings out in the open. She was tired of being dishonest with Edward; at some point in their friendship, she'd started holding back an important part of herself —her love for him. And if Edward didn't know something so fundamental about her, then she wondered if he knew her well at all.
That was a lie; he was still the one person who knew her best.
"I know, Bells. I can only tell you how sorry I am. I should've listened, but I took the coward's way out and shut you out. I should've been there for you, as you've always been there for me." Edward admitted, tired of pretending otherwise. He'd tried making excuses for himself —when Alice had chastised him, he'd told her he couldn't have helped his reaction. When Rose had glared at him, he'd snapped that it wasn't his fault. Even Emmett, his oldest friend, had cast him a disapproving glare alongside his girlfriend.
Bella sighed, a tight coil that had been in her stomach all summer slowly unraveling.
"What's done is done. So is your hair, by the way." Bella said softly, brushing away the last few hairs that had fallen on his shoulders.
Edward swiveled on his chair. He looked determined, his green eyes a bit darker than usual.
Confused, Bella watched as her friend stood up abruptly.
Startled, she looked up at Edward. Handsome Edward, she thought fondly. How I love you.
He took a deep breath.
"Go on a date with me, Bella."
-.-.-.-.-
"You seriously told him that?" Alice laughed one early November afternoon as she, Bella and Rose sat at a café nearby her apartment.
"I did," Rose said seriously. "He's either getting that bleeding nose checked out or I get us separate rooms. I am dangerously close to breaking his face. His snoring is getting unbearable. You might sleep in the room next to us, Al, but you should be thankful for those paper-thin walls. They still block enough noise to let you sleep."
"Poor big guy. In all fairness, he hasn't always snored so badly. Back in middle school he just sort of wheezed," Bella said helpfully, and Alice nodded with her. "It must be that he's so comfortable sleeping with you. Maybe you exhaust him, Rose," Bella winked, and they all howled with laughter.
"Speaking of," Rose said slyly, looking at Bella with an attempt at a serious face. "How's the boyfriend of yours? You still have him locked out of Heaven?"
Bella groaned.
Against all rational judgement, Bella had accepted going on that date with Edward. He'd taken her to a park, where they'd walked and talked and laughed until they were starving. First they swung by for ice cream (both of them had always believed in eating dessert first), and then they went to Bella Italia, their favorite restaurant. They got a second dessert because why not. After that, he'd taken her to an auto cinema, where they'd been playing her favorite classic, The Beauty & the Beast. Funnily enough, she had always identified more with Adam than with Belle. She'd felt like her price to pay for being so self-deprecating was the hits her body had taken; instead of being turned into a beast, she'd turned into a scarred human. Maybe Edward was actually Belle, turning her back into a whole human being after realizing she had to learn to love herself.
Maybe.
Still, after that first date, things had progressed slowly. They'd gone on many more dates —some fancy, some casual— and they'd had their first kiss. But Bella hadn't been ready to give herself completely to Edward, a boy so accustomed to flawless beauty. And Edward refused to take her so long as she wasn't comfortable in her own body.
Needless to say, both were sexually frustrated. They'd known each other for a long ass time; Bella had never had sex, so it was easier for her, at least. But Edward? It had been some solid six months without sex, longer than he'd ever gone without since he lost his virginity. Adding to that the fact that boys in college had wandering eyes and Bella had taken to wearing tight clothes…
Needless to say, he was saving a lot on hot water.
Bella shot Rose a disgusted look.
"I don't have Edward 'locked out of Heaven'. We're taking things slow. I'm a twenty-two year-old virgin; obviously, I'm not in any hurry to have sex. If anything, I'm worried Edward will get tired of waiting around for me." Bella admitted, looking down at her coffee.
It was Alice who spoke.
"Stupid girl."
Bella looked up in surprise.
"Stupid girl," Alice repeated, shaking her head. "If a boy can't wait for you for two months before switching to a new conquest, he's obviously not worth it. And I seriously hope my twin is smart enough to be able to wait around for as long as he has to. Otherwise, he's not serious, and you should kick him to the curb."
In amusement, Rose and Bella observed their tiny friend.
"Somebody's all to ready to let go of the Cullen clan," they teased, and Alice smiled wide. Ever since Jasper had finally manned up enough to propose to Alice on Halloween (unsurprisingly, the chance to dress up made the day Ali's favorite holiday; it was also unsurprising how long it took Jasper to build up the courage to ask her to marry him), she'd been insufferable. These days, everything was about how she'd be Alice Whitlock, and how she was so over the Cullen name, and how every girl other than her was going to be absolutely miserable because their partner wasn't Jasper.
"I'm just so psyched. I've been waiting for Jazzie to propose for so long, and we're finally going to get married," Alice sighed dreamily, and from then on the subject was switched to the perfection that would be her wedding.
That night, when Edward dropped by her dorm for a few hours together, Bella told him all about his twin's treason.
"I knew Lice was going to drop me the second she had a new, hot soul mate. I mean, we've only been together since the womb," Edward joked, and both knew he didn't believe for a second he was being replaced. Alice and Edward had the typical, tighter than tight relationship with his twin sister. And despite Al's words, Bella knew that if it ever came to it, she'd back up her twin, and not her friend, because that's what it meant to be twins.
"Well, Jasper is pretty hot," Bella teased. They were lying down on her bed; he was on his back, and she had her head resting on his chest, her legs tangled with his.
"Oh yeah?" Edward flipped over so he was planking over her. Mirth shone in his eyes; eyes she loved more than life itself. These last few weeks had only strengthened her love for him.
"Yup!" she replied merrily, and was about to say something else when he crushed his lips to hers. He bit her bottom lip, and in response Bella gasped, her back arching, making their chests touch in a way that set her veins on fire.
"God, Bella," Edward moaned, and it pleased her immensely the way in which he said her name. Over the years, he'd said her names in a lot of ways; jokingly, angrily, neutrally, worriedly, friendlily. But this way triumphed over all the others; he said it like a worship, like a plead to a higher deity. She loved the way his breath tingled over her face, so she smiled, not seeing why she should hold back her expression of happiness. "Bella?"
Confusedly, this time.
"You make me happy," Bella whispered in explanation, already knowing what his question implied. And it was true; ever since they started dating, Bella smiled even more, laughed even more, laughed even more. She hadn't told him again that she loved him, but she knew Edward was aware of her feelings.
Edward felt his heart kick into overdrive.
No girl had ever made him feel this way.
He'd lie if he said that he'd liked her throughout high school on a subconscious level, or even throughout college. He hadn't; he'd had relationships he was serious about, and he'd had sex with girlfriends, wanting to feel good. With Bella, though, things were so much better. He felt for her something that he hadn't known was missing from his previous relationships. She was his best friend in every way, and now she was his girlfriend. She understood his demons the same way he understood hers; she looked after him in a way only she could do it. She wasn't overbearing, but she wasn't aloof, either. Somehow, over vacation, Bella had ceased the need to criticize herself at every turn —or at least, if she still did, she didn't tell him. He didn't think that was the case; Bella had always been open about her insecurities and needs, even now. She told him she felt insecure about her body, about wanting to be her best self, and about not wanting to feel her worth was defined by Edward's feelings. He admired that; she deserved to love herself with or without his approval. If anything, seeing her confidence grow slowly but steadily endeared her all the more to him. He found himself thinking more often of middle school Bella, and how college Bella was increasingly returning to being who, Edward was sure, she was meant to be all along.
He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her.
"You make me happy, too." Edward whispered back, not wanting to break the peaceful silence with obnoxious volumes.
"Edward?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you ask me out? You never told me why."
"Well, you never asked," Edward chuckled, plopping back down beside her, sensing that sexy times were over. He turned on his side to face her; she did the same.
"I'm asking now." Bella reached out to touch his cheek lightly, lovingly.
His stomach clenched.
"I asked because I had to," he said simply, and his girlfriend scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. "I'd never been more sure of something. Somehow, the thought entered my mind the week before seeing you: I'm going to ask Bella out. I wanted to see if you and I could be a thing; I wanted know if I wanted us to be a thing. I've known you all my life; Bella the daughter, the best friend, the student, the classmate, the gang's cook, the insecure girl, the confident girl, the cheerful girl, the sad girl… I've known many yous, but I never knew you as 'Bella my girlfriend'. A big part of me was curious about how that would go; how our compatibility was going to be."
"And?" Bella asked, and her voice was fearful, her eyes too wide.
"And I can't remember a time when you weren't ever 'Bella my girlfriend'."
-.-.-.-.-.-
"Alice, have you seen Bella?" Edward asked harshly, frustration clear in his voice. He watched the puff of air that could be seen because of the cold air. He remembered that, as a kid, he loved pretending it was cigarette smoke. He, Bella, Alice and Emmett would spend a solid hour competing to see who looked the coolest.
"Why?"
"Damn it Alice, just tell me." Edward snapped, for once really having no patience for his twin. But Alice was stubborn, and though she knew what the call was about, she wasn't about to give out information easily.
"First you have to tell me why. You always know where your girlfriend is."
Edward sighed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. He stomped harshly into the snow, soaking through his converse and jeans. December had brought along the full swing of snow.
"We had a fight, and now I can't find her. Please, Alice. I know you know. I can't right this if I don't know where she went."
He was met with silence for a solid minute.
"Alice."
"Okay, fine! I'll tell you," Alice grumbled in defeat. "She's in your apartment."
…
"What?"
"Yeah, apparently our friend isn't the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to hiding spots. She didn't want to drive far in the snow in case a storm hit or the roads were too slippery. She thought the most obvious hiding spot would be the best one. And the safest one."
Surprisingly, she'd been right. He never thought she'd hide in his fucking apartment.
So when he got home, and he saw that Bella was hiding out in his room underneath his bed cover, he felt something melt inside of him. Even angry and hurt as she'd been, she'd still found comfort in his little home.
"Bella."
The sniffling that was coming from underneath his covers suddenly stopped.
"Edward?" She sounded congested, and he had no doubt her nose was totally clogged. Locking the door, he started undressing; he took off his shoes, then his belt. He took off his jeans, but left his hoodie on.
"Come on, Bells. Let's talk," he said softly, placing his hand on the middle of the lump, assuming that was her hip.
She pulled the covers off, but not from the direction he expected. Apparently, she dove into the covers the wrong way, so now her feet were on his pillow. Not that he cared much at the moment; he had other things to think about.
When he turned to see her face he saw that she was super puffy; red eyes, red nose, swollen lips, like she'd tried biting through them.
"I'm sorry about how I reacted, sweetheart." Edward apologized, leaning forward to wipe a tear that had slipped by Bella's defenses.
She sniffled.
"I just don't get why you got so defensive, Edward. I only asked if you could make it for Christmas to the family dinner," her lip wobbled, and he brushed his thumb over it, trying to stop its trembling.
Sighing, he pulled her up and against him in a tight hug.
"I know. I'm sorry, baby. I'm just up to my neck in studying for the MCATs, and you asking me that sort of reminded me of all the other things I have to shuffle into my schedule. Mom's been nagging at me for the last month asking me the same question, and then you asked, and I just lost it a bit. I should never have snapped at you like that; you don't deserve it." He apologized so fervently that he felt her sniffling increase a bit.
"It's just that -that -that I worried so much I'd done something wrong. What if I made you h-hate me somehow?" She was sobbing now, and Edward kicked himself for his overreaction. He was seriously stressed, but he should never have taken it out on Bella.
"I could never hate you," he told her gently, pulling away slightly. He tilted up her head, hooking his index below her chin. He looked into her chocolate brown eyes. "I love you, my Bella."
She hiccuped. It was the first time he told her that, and there she was, looking hideous as far as she was concerned.
"I l-love you too, Edward." Bella blubbered, and this time her tears seemed to be the happy type. "So much."
He smiled at her gently.
"So much," he echoed, and he leaned in to kiss her. She put a hand to his lips, stopping him abruptly.
"I'm a mess," she said, embarrassed. Her flush spread throughout all of her body; she could feel it.
Edward kissed the palm of her hand, then lowered it.
"You're beautiful," he said honestly, and he kissed her.
Their clothes came off in a blur. It was cold, so they stayed under the covers. Edward kissed her neck, placing open-mouthed kisses as he went. When he got to her breasts, she whimpered and tried covering them.
"They're covered in stretch marks," she whispered, blinking back tears. How she wished she had a flawless body, now more than ever.
"So they are," Edward agreed, but continued kissing anyway. "You're still Bella, though."
Somehow, those words calmed her more than anything else could've.
So she uncovered herself, and did her best to be unashamed as Edward continued kissing down her body.
Soon enough, the pleasure was so much she stopped caring either way.
"Bella," he groaned, in that way that she loved. His caresses hadn't stopped, and she felt a little useless, just lying there. So she switched spots, now sitting on his stomach. She kissed his delectable jawline, going lower and lower until she was faced with his happy trail. Looking up, she curled her lip in amusement when she saw Edward's eyes screwed shut with pleasure.
She touched a little lower.
Suddenly, his eyes flashed open, and she could've sworn she heard a growl as his sanity snapped.
"Fuck," he hissed, switching their positions once more. "Bella, please. I need you now."
Gasping, she nodded as he pressed up against her.
"Are you protected?" Edward asked, voice thin with restraint.
"Yes. Please, make love to me," she begged, and the voice she'd used was barely recognizable to her. Edward's eyes darkened, and he pressed his lips harshly against hers.
He angled his hips. He maintained the kiss. He thrust quickly and held himself steady.
It hurt. She wasn't lying when she said it hurt more than she'd thought it would; she'd never used tampons or had done any intense exercise that could've stretched her hymen even the tiniest bit. And Edward wasn't small by any means; she wasn't sure what he was, but she was sure that he had to be more than well endowed.
"Are you ok?" Edward gasped, clearly using all of his self-control at the moment. Bella nodded.
"Just give me a second to adjust." She hooked her arms around his neck and her ankles behind his ass. After a minute or so, she tried moving, and instead of pain, there was only a slight twitch of discomfort.
She could live with that.
"You can move," she said, and her breath hitched when he did.
From then, it was a tug-of-war. They pushed and pulled, they gave and they took. They sped up and they slowed down, they muttered sweet everythings and dirty nothings. They were steadily building on a crescendo of pleasure, until suddenly they felt their nerve endings shatter and regenerate, pull in and then exhale. There was everything inside of their cocoon and nothing outside of it. They were alone in the world; they were the world.
Gasps, intakes of breaths and shudders followed, until the two were but two bodies cuddling in the middle of a much too small bed.
"I love you, Edward," Bella said, once she'd regained her breath.
"I love you, too, Bells."
My husband once told me that in order to love anybody else, you had to love yourself. Before him, I hadn't thought it true. In theory I did, but in practice I didn't. I'd wanted him to love me when I didn't even love myself. I thought the rest of the world shallow, but never thought maybe the shallow one was me. I was so overly concerned with others —what they thought of me, what they expected of me— that I never stopped to wonder what I thought of myself. It was a long, harsh process of learning to love myself. But I did it; I learned how to stop being my harshest critic and start being my greatest admirer. I think that the biggest lesson I got from my husband was that the cover is just a reflection of the inside; who feels good inside, looks good outside. I—
"Edward, stop reading my fucking blog!"
Hiya! So, as you can see, this is a FFN that was mostly based on the idea of self-love and acceptance of yourself. Now, I know Bella lost weight, but at the end of the day, it was for herself, and Edward never really cared either way (he only cared as far as her self-image was concerned). Also, in case you were wondering, the song I referenced in the beginning is Toothbrush from DNCE (or as I call them, Dance Without An A, because I'm dorky like that). I hope that you took something positive from this pic, and I hope that the biggest message that was left was that self-love is the greatest type of love there is. Once you have that, the rest will follow. Anyways, please leave me some love!
Leah.
P.S. Check out my other story, Chronicles of a Western Belle. ;)
Summary: This isn't a love story. Sure, it has love, but that's not the point of Bella Swan's life; her life is a story of friendship, and overcoming hardships alongside her best friends and -and would everyone just STOP assuming that she's dating Edward Cullen? She's not! And she's NOT going to date the new boy, who thought she was cheating on Jasper with Edward. Wait. What? AH. E/B OOC