The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com

Prompt: #2
Main Character/Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,218

Photo prompts can be found here: thetwilight25 dot com / round-ten / prompts

Little Red Flag

The hot summer sun beat down on her, but Isabella dared not go inside the house where it was cooler. Her dress clung to her skin in wet patches and little wisps of hair had fallen loose from her ponytail and stuck to the sides of her face.

Her entire body was a mess of nerves; high strung and on the very edge of losing her mind.

She tried to calm herself down, and picked up the broom from the side of the porch. If her mother saw her out here like this she would never hear the end of it.

Isabella knew she was only trying to help her. It was sweet of her mother, but it wouldn't do any good.

Mindlessly, Isabella moved the broom back and forth on the wooden planks.

Swish, swish, swish.

She strained her ears over the sound, listening for his far-off footsteps to walk down the lane, all the while trying to keep herself composed.

Would he come today?

Of course he would, he came every day.

But would he bring something for her?

That was the true question.

There were days with nothing. Those were the hardest. Isabella would put on a brave face until after he left, but he knew the truth.

Everyone did on those days, and either tried to avoid her or console her. But their conciliation always felt more like placation, and it drove Isabella mad.

Deep down Isabella knew not to expect something daily. It was completely unreasonable. But when love was involved, reason went out the window.

It wasn't his footsteps Isabella first heard. It was the sound of metal opening and closing. She could see in her mind's eye the little red flag being raised with each flick of the clasp as the sound drew closer.

He was coming!

Her arms continued their back and forth motion on the porch, but her body was tight with anticipation.

Slowly, she turned toward the road, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, the broom still in the other.

"Good afternoon, Isabella," he called out when he saw her still form. Of course, it came as no surprise to him. She was nearby every day at this time. "It's a hot one today!"

Isabella propped the broom up against the house, careful not to look through the window as she passed by. She couldn't bear to see her mother's face.

"It sure is," Isabella called back in return. She tried to give the appearance of nonchalance as she made her way to him.

"Got anything for me today, Mr. Weber?" she asked, inwardly bracing herself for his answer.

"You're in luck, darling," he answered her with a kind smile. "There's a whole bundle today."

Isabella took the letters carefully and held them close to her heart.

"Thank you." Her voice was whisper-soft and her eyes were starting to shine with unshed tears. She knew she only had moments until they fell, completely unbidden.

Mr. Weber took his cue, tipped his hat and was on his way to the next row of mailboxes. These were the good days and he smiled a little bigger as he finished his route.

As soon as he was out of sight, Isabella raced behind the house and through the trees, clinging to her small bundle as she went.

She needed the peace and quiet while she read these, and the creek was her spot.

Well, their spot.

She clambered down the hill, over the sticks and stones, and came to rest at an old fallen log.

Settling herself comfortably in the crook of it, she took a moment to still her breath. Allowing the rushing of the water to slow her heart.

Gingerly, she untied the brown string holding the letters together. She fingered each one, her finger tracing his delicate scroll.

There weren't quite as many letters as she'd like. The three letters meant it would likely be days or even weeks until the next one.

Because there would be a next one—and one after that.

Each letter meant he was alive. Each one was one step closer until the day he came home to her.

Isabella inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of dust lingering on the letter, reminding her how far it had traveled and what a precious gift this really was.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the envelope and pulled out the frail paper within. With a deep breath, she began to read.

The first two letters were similar to other ones she had received over their time apart; declaring his love, proclaiming how much he missed her, and reassuring her he was in fact alive and well.

But it was the third and final letter that caused her heart to skip a beat. She sat silently, while the sun slowly went down around her, taking in his words.

For the last time that evening, Isabella read this shorter letter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

My dearest Isabella,

I hope this letter finds you well; as it is so soon after my last, I am sure you will receive this before I get hold of yours.

Before you start to worry, I am fine, but I was injured in battle. The good news is I will be returning home as soon as possible, so you can breathe a sigh of relief. The bad news is I am not sure how my leg will heal and how much use I will have of it in the future.

I am so very thankful to have survived alive, and wish there was more I could do for our country, but I am also happy I can be with family and friends while I recover. I hope you will be there to support me as well, but I understand if it is too much for you.

I look forward to seeing you when I arrive.

Always yours,

Edward

Tucking the letter carefully back into the envelope for safekeeping, Isabella contemplated Edward's words.

It wasn't that she was unsure what she was going to do when he finally came home. That was never a question. No matter what state Edward was in, she would be there for him.

She never had a doubt.

But the question remained: why did Edward? How could he be so unsure of her love after all this time?

Deep down, Isabella was fairly certain she knew the answer.

Edward was protecting himself. He had been through a lot. More than most could understand. It was only natural he would struggle with returning to society. Of course, the world around him had continued to move on while he was in a very different way of life.

Isabella stood up and steeled herself for whatever was to come with Edward's return. She would leave no doubt in his mind when she could finally hold him in her arms again, letting her love pour out with actions instead of words.

It was the only way.

It was the future that was important, and Isabella was grateful she could continue to dream again. White picket fences, little children running in the yard, and Edward sitting on the porch swing next to her.

It was going to be perfect.

Edward was coming home.

And nothing else mattered.

Thank you for reading! And thank you to Midnight Cougar for your second pair of eyes and your unending support!