This was inspired by an old stupid french song called "Garde-moi la dernière danse".
Blurry silhouettes.
There's fog or maybe it's my mind that is foggy.
I can't tell anymore. Tonight, I can't stand watching. But even if the alcohol is blinding me, it hurts all the same inside. At least I don't see his hands roaming everywhere. Rude. What did their moms teach them ?
Ugh, I sound like I have a stick in my ass now. I'm kind of used to it. This girl has had me crawling on the floor for years.
I feel something nudge my leg and when I turn to look, Emmett stands and gives me a slight nod. He's leaving. I'm alone at the table. I look up and see more blurry silhouettes, probably moving to the beat of the music, but all I hear right now is my heart hammering too hard in my chest. It wants to go out. So I go out.
Tonight I'll be waiting for her in the car.
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She's smiling at me over his shoulder. I can't help it, I smile at her too.
Her eyes shine, it's not because of glittery make-up or whatever. She's just beautiful. Especially when she dances. Radiant. Vibrant. She makes me feel all jittery, my body is begging to move toward her and make her sway the way she likes it.
I won't do it. She'll laugh at me and say that I'm ruining her chances.
Chances.
I want to kill all these motherfuckers.
But she wants them; so I'll let her have them. She thinks she's a predator, chasing tall and shiny-haired prey like a boss. But but she's the one, tiny girl, chased by those horny bastards. The thrill of getting attention probably helps her overlook their filthy hands. She deserves the attention. They don't deserve her.
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"Look at you sitting on these sticky chairs again. You're just jealous. And scared shitless. And probably lazy."
It's so pathetic that I laugh. Emmett's right, I'm jealous. What if one of these fuckers becomes more than just one dance? I let that happen once. I had to watch them kiss while waiting in line at the theater, at the mall, at the museum. She insisted I go out with them so we could all be friends and shit.
I'm not sure that she realizes how much I love her. She must think it's just brotherly love that is a little excessive on my side. It's really fucking sad when you cross this point of no return. When you know the other one even more than you know yourself. When you've been through so much together - dark things, good things. When you can't even tell your memories apart. My life is her life. I can't change that, it's too late now.
Would it be different if we met for the first time tonight? If I was one of these jerks, circling around her on the dance floor until she points her finger at me and tells me to get closer? I'd talk to her, ask her name even if I know the music is too loud to hear anything. I'd lean my face close to her ear and get a whiff of her scent. I'd put my hands on her gently and pull her to me. I'd never let my eyes down. I'd try to make her twirl around me because she likes this ballroom dancing shit. I'd also make an ass of myself and make her laugh because... well, I'm not exactly the best dancer. I'd tangle my fingers in her hair and if she allows me to hold her like this, I'd know. I'd know and I'd get close and I'd kiss her. Not too much. I'd make her understand she's not just one to blatantly take here, but to worship in secret places.
Dammit, I'm such a pussy.
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"I just want to feel," she told me once.
I wanted to tell her I could make her feel too, if she would let me. "Be careful," I said.
I'm too scared to hear her say the words. Come on, you're my best friend she'd laugh. I'd die a little more.
That's why I'm the one going with her to these parties every weekend. I take her back home when she thinks she's had enough of them. I see her smiles, her touches, her whispers and I wait, wishing they were for me. I make sure she's safe and happy in the way she thinks happiness looks. To be honest, I also make sure she doesn't forget me. I'm selfish. I ask her for the last dance every time before we leave, like she at least owes me this.
I'm the one taking her home, fuckers.
I joke and ask her 'where do you want to go ma'am? No fare for the prettiest lady' and she laughs at my foolishness. When she falls asleep, I drive slowly because I want this to last. When we're there, I wake her up by tickling her side. She hates that shit but I love the pout of her lips when she's bothered.
"Next week, Cullen."
"Sure, Swan."
It's a ritual and a promise sealed in two sentences. Our promise that I'll be there for her next Saturday, as a best friend slash guardian slash ride. My personal promise that next week I'll stop acting like a wimp and make a move. We always tend to break our own promises more easily, right?
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The bar is packed. The night is gonna be fucking long. I decide to relax and enjoy it as much as I can. Everyone's here. Jasper even brought his girlfriend so I don't have to worry too much about keeping an eye on the dance floor, for once.
Hipsters and leggy blondes invade the place as the night goes on. I hear a high-pitched voice. Not the sweet voice I like. For a moment I think it's not speaking to me but there's an awkward silence after it says "hey" so I have to look.
Tall. Big blue eyes. Perfect face. Perfect hair. Perfect tits.
"Hey yourself," I say. I'm not an asshole. I try to be friendly but truly I don't really give a fuck about her.
"You... um you wanna go out for a moment? To smoke or walk? I don't know..." She giggles. Not the giggle I like either.
"Actually I don't smoke." Okay, I'm an asshole.
"Ugh. Okay, can I have a seat then?" She looks fleetingly to Emmett, who's watching the exchange intently.
"I don't know." Really, I don't know. She can sit but I still don't give a fuck.
She sits and tries to engage in conversation again. After a few minutes, I'm clearly pissing her off with my one-word answers so she huffs and stands up.
"Okay, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you! What the fuck is wrong with him?" She asks Emmett.
"He's gay." He deadpans.
Thank you, Emmett. I mumble my fuck off to him and stand up. "Yeah, I'm gonna look for cock."
The look on this girl's face is priceless. I think Emmett is gonna try to comfort her. When I come back after a while, he's alone though.
"You didn't get what you wanted?"
"Shut up, of course I got it. She left me her phone number and I'm definitely calling her in three days. And thank you for showing off your mangina again tonight, dude."
"Uh?" I frown. Emmett can be confusing. Like with his three-days rule. I think it's because he watched American Pie too many times. He sticks to a lot of confusing rules when it comes to dating. He thinks I should have given up on Bella because we passed the seven-year mark of our friendship. Whatever. Love sticks to no rule.
Yeah, okay maybe he's right about the mangina part.
"Seriously, Edward. You can get laid from time to time, it doesn't hurt. She was ready to sit on your lap and you just ignored her. Anyway, I'm the one who's gonna have it."
"Then why didn't you bring her home already?"
"Oh, no, this one has too much potential. It would be too easy if I played all my cards tonight. I'm gonna make her beg for it." The fucker grins. Jasper bumps his fist. At the same time, the girls are back and he gets a slap on the head from his girlfriend. She probably didn't hear anything but she knows by their stupid faces it was bad.
She's here, my girl. She stays. It's rare. She spends the rest of the night with us at the table. She laughs, she talks shit about these blondes and I can't hide my smirk from Emmett.
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"You're ignoring me."
"What are you talking about? I'm not." I look the other way.
"You are. You're drunk. I don't want to take a cab home like two weeks ago," she sighs.
"Bella, I'm not drunk. We'll walk." I keep looking the other way. I laugh at Jasper's rambling even if I don't understand a word he says. I'm drunk.
"Edward, this girl has been looking at you all night long," she points.
I freeze. I don't want to play that game again. The one where I tell her that all of the girls look bad tonight. Or the girl didn't know who Dave Grohl was and I can't stand that. Or the girl had bad breath. Yeah, my excuses were getting ridiculous and my mind is too confused to find any now.
"I don't want her." I look her way.
"You're annoying. You never want anyone," she plays.
"That's not true," I grin. It makes her squirm.
"Ok, then this one? Look at her legs," she points again.
"No." Bella's legs.
"The red-haired one over there? She's hot, even I would do her."
"No." Bella's hair.
"You're not even looking, Edward." She's annoyed when I don't play with her.
"I am." Bella's eyes.
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Watching. Always watching. Tonight I want to touch.
I stand up and walk toward her, resolved. I put my hand on her shoulder and slide it down her arm slowly. She jumps and turns around to see who's intruding her show. When she sees me, she smiles sweet and innocent, unlike her. It's my smile, the smile I get because I'm Cullen and she's Swan and it's the last dance. She looks around but her last tracker disappeared. The song is over and she steps back to move away but I tug at her hand to keep her closer. I play with her fingers because I'm a little nervous. I tickle. She giggles and blushes. I keep moving slightly. She tells me she's tired and what do you want, you're weird, stop drinking that much. But tonight is my promise. My fingers make it happen first. I touch her lips. Her mouth opens, just a little. Her eyes close. She knows I'm gonna do it. I do it.
I kiss her. And this kiss means the world because we've shared lots of kisses. Drunk kisses. Our awkward first kiss. Comfort kisses. Best friend kisses. But I make this one a lover's kiss. I make it the best kiss with my lips and just the tip of my tongue. I make it last. I make my point, she can't laugh at me now. When I pull back and look at her eyes, I see fear, weakness, desire, anger. And I can't, not now, please don't. I hear a loud noise and maybe it's my heart that broke into pieces or maybe it's just this stupid music blasting again. I step back and smile.
It's okay, I'm still here. Forever.
We finish our last dance. We leave. She falls asleep in the car or she pretends that she's sleeping and I can't take conversation right now anyway. I drop her off. Next week, she says.
*¤*¤*~LD~*¤*¤*
A/N: I have nothing against leggy blondes, I swear.
If you just read this o/s, thank you very much. It's kind of my first try at this so let me know what you think, good or bad.
I'm giving a huge thank you to the lovely Kristen for beta-ing this and putting up with my frenglish. She's the sweetest and a great writer and I'm very lucky. Thank you to Bee for pre-reading and being the badass girl that she is. And thank you to braziliangirl2, my twin, for pre-reading this too, for everything she does for me and for always encouraging me to try new things... That sounded dirty. Well.