Human Touch
By: Icicle Raindream
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, so I am not making any profits off writing this.
Notes: This fic takes place directly in between Chapter 22 and Chapter 23 of New Moon. I found myself wondering how Edward had spent that night in Bella's room, so I wanted to explore it, since we really don't get to in New Moon itself. Also, since the Twilight books are told from Bella's point of view and we always hear how she describes Edward's touch (marble lips, stone chest, cold presence, etc.) I wanted to take a shot at how Edward felt towards Bella. Hope you like! Drop me a review!
Tip: This story was hugely influenced by Bruce Springsteen's song "Human Touch". I really feel like the lyrics fit from Edward's point of view. Check the song out, you won't be sorry! It's a classic!
I hovered.
Charlie was upstairs, outside her door, debating with himself. He wanted to go in to check on her, but he was afraid of what he'd see. Or rather - he changed his mind quickly - what he'd feel. His anger at me was slowly dissipating, but his anxiety over her abrupt disappearance and subsequent return remained.
I paced in front of the house, my hands balled into fists inside my pants pockets. The darkness around me felt heavy, the mist clinging to my eyelashes, sticking to my face. A small breeze picked up, and her scent filled my senses. Momentarily I was caught, still, breathing her in. I inhaled deeply, reveling. Then I went back to pacing.
Charlie decided to go in. He sternly reprimanded himself for questioning it in the first place as he looked her over. She was curled in her bed, still in the exact position as I'd left her, and relief flooded through Charlie. Relief at not only seeing her in one piece, but also, I realized with a shock, with seeing me just a few moments earlier. Something flashed through his mind - a hospital? - but it was so brief an image, I hardly had time to focus on it. It hadn't been reality. It was something Charlie now felt overwhelmingly happy about; he felt assured that he would never have to worry about it again. An afterthought.
He wanted to pull the covers over her, but feared waking her, so instead he left her room, pulling the door softly closed behind him. I waited until he had enclosed himself in his own room, thoughts occupied on getting ready for bed. Then I leaped nimbly from the grass of the front lawn to her window. It slid open easily.
Immediately my arms felt too light; as I stepped into the darkness of her bedroom it felt as though I was too swift for myself, that my body cut through the air too easily. I inched slowly towards her bed, to see if I could alleviate this feeling, to regain a sense of control of my movements, but to no avail. The closer I got to her sleeping form on the bed, the lighter my body began to feel.
She was motionless on her bed, unmoving save for her deep breathing. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, her heart keeping its even tempo. Her long hair was tossed carelessly over her pillow, the long strands at her face resting softly against her cheek. Even though her blankets were still piled in a heap at the foot of her bed, her body was warm. I could feel the heat rising from the denim of her jeans as I came to the bed, my knee pressing against the side of the mattress. I breathed her in again, slow and steady. It had been far too long.
She slept soundly, completely unaware of her surroundings, seeming entirely at peace. The exhaustion had taken complete control of her, but she looked calm and relaxed on her bed, her hands curled under her pillow. Color was staining her cheeks gently, a warm pink spreading across her face. She shifted gently, her shoes scraping together. I sat cautiously on the edge of the bed, knowing that I wouldn't wake her but still trying not to anyway. She was so beautiful, and I had forced myself to go without her for over seven months - of my own free will. I was a lunatic.
Carefully, I twisted around towards her feet and unlaced her shoes. I pulled them off and set them on the floor, then grabbed her blanket and pulled it up to her waist. She didn't stir. I slid in next to her on the bed, against her second pillow, my pillow. I angled it on the headboard so I was comfortable, and then leaned back. Finally, Bella was at my side, and she wasn't going anywhere. For now.
I took slow breaths of her, living in her scent. The moment I had heard that Bella had committed suicide, the rush of her scent had hit my brain with such excruciating force that I actually thought I might pass out. Even living without it for seven months, her scent came back to me like I had seen her only minutes before, like my senses had never been deprived of her in the first place. And when I'd actually held her in Volterra, her scent had been so strong, it nearly melted my insides. It was her smell intensified ten times over, and not in the way that made my throat burn for her blood. Instead, she made my heart burn. Smolder, even, if I dared to use that melodramatic word. Not for her blood, either, but for her love. For the love that I still didn't feel I deserved, being what I was.
"Edward..."
My name slipped out between her lips, and I jerked my head down to her, where she still lay asleep. She snuggled closer to me as if she knew I was there. Her right hand stretched out, fingertips touching the very edge of my shirt, and she sighed contentedly. My eyes caught the front of my shirt then, as my gaze traveled up from her fingers. The cotton was wrinkled from her hands, from where she had dug in so tight not even Charlie had been able to pull her away from me. The wrinkles were prominent next to the buttons, and I felt my heart burn again. She'd been holding on as if she'd been afraid I would slip away within a moment's notice. As if that were even possible now that she was with me in the same space.
I fingered the wrinkles lightly, a faint smile pulling involuntarily at my mouth. I hadn't wanted to pry her off me. I would have stood in her room all night just holding her if it had been possible. But Charlie had been waiting, and his anger had been the dominant force between the three of us. He also was worried and shocked and confused, but he'd said nothing to me as I'd exited her room and made for the front door. His glare had reached me before I'd even hit the bottom of the stairs and he glowered until I'd left the house, but I didn't blame him. I completely understood how he'd felt at the time; he was merely trying to protect Bella. I couldn't fault him for that.
I looked back to Bella. Her face was even calmer now, as she settled even deeper into sleep. Her fingers twitched against the edge of my shirt, and I slipped my left hand down towards hers. Her fingers were warm, delicately stretched, her fingernails neatly trimmed. I ran the tip of my index finger down the length of hers, then brushed the back of her hand with my palm. So warm; the heat was radiating from her now. Even with my cold presence next to her, the heat ruled over us. It swirled up from her now, enveloping me as I pressed my hand flat against hers. Her fingers twitched again, and with no warning, her arm reached out across my body and her hand latched onto my left side. Her head shifted position on her pillow, closer to me, and she took a deep breath in through her nose. Her heart rate did not fluctuate.
I realized that I had jerked my hand back from her as she'd moved, as though I was afraid to touch her. She was still sound asleep, the tip of her nose pressing gently into the side of my chest. Her arm stung my torso pleasantly with heat and I breathed her in again, closing my eyes to concentrate on her scent. She was magnificent when she slept; the epitome of youthfulness and beauty, a force that demanded attention, her heat overtaking the room. If my heart could beat, it might have burst from my chest just from taking all of her in as she rested soundly.
I lowered my hand to her bare forearm, just underneath her three-quarter length sleeve. Lightly, I traced her arm with my fingers, starting at the crook of her elbow, and sweeping down to her wrist. Her skin was hot and inviting, comforting, alive. I clasped her wrist, and her heart beat against my thumb. Every inch of her humanity burned through me in this small touch.
If anyone had told me a year ago that I would crave a human so much as I did now, I might have laughed in their face. Of course, craving Bella was different; the burn for her blood was gone. Instead it was just a burn for her, a burn for her to be her. To be human, to be Bella. To be my Bella. My human Bella.
Bella shifted her head again, from her pillow to now fully resting on my chest. She snuggled into me, sighing, and my name slipped out from her lips again. I gazed at her, wondering if she was dreaming of me. The pink stain on her cheeks darkened, and a stray strand of hair fell across her face onto my shirt. I sighed, content, and brought my right arm around her, resting it gently on her back, welcoming a second round of her heat. She nuzzled me deeper and I resisted the urge to shudder at her delicious warmth.
I realized then that this was why I'd felt too light; this was why I'd felt too swift for even myself earlier. It was true, without her body against mine, I was too light. I delighted in her weight when it was balanced against mine. I embraced her body, not just physically, but emotionally as well, as it pressed mine. I longed for it, even. I wanted to feel her, to take her body pressure against mine, to feel her accompaniment with me always. Without her love, I'd floated through the world with nothing but my material possessions, nothing of true value to call my own, but with her...I had something greater than love. I had a companion. Someone to share with, to talk to, to enjoy my life with. Someone who would be there...someone I could be there for. Someone I would always be there for.
My Bella. My sweet Bella, who wanted nothing in return. She'd been the first one at school to look at me as me, and not something - anything - else. She was never frightened of me, and even better, she liked who - what - I was. No matter the consequences, no matter the differences between us, no matter what the future held, she had always been there for me, sweet and open-minded and welcoming, even after I'd left her. And she was what I wanted, forever. No matter what I had, or didn't have, to give to her in return, I wanted her. Forever.
Bella's eyelids fluttered open just then, and she pressed her nose into my shirt and blinked hard, as if in denial of being awake. She took a deep breath and then her face turned towards mine; I consciously held my breath. I had no idea how she was going to react, how she was going to feel about me being here with her, even though I'd had to force her to let go of me earlier.
I didn't expect her to smile, but I found myself smiling back as the small grin spread across her face. Her dark eyes were still heavy with exhaustion, her pink cheeks ever warmer. She blinked again, her hand tightening against my side, and her smile did not waver. I smiled back harder and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
She exhaled through her nose and then dropped her head back to my chest, her right hand still fisting the cotton of my shirt. She nuzzled me and then was still.
I took a breath, filling my lungs with her heat. "Forgive me," I whispered to her through the darkness.
I looked down at her intently, wanting to see what her expression had in store for me, but realized that she was back asleep, her breathing returning to its steady rise and fall. Her heart beat against my chest, as stable as before. She hadn't been awake in the first place. I felt the smile pull at my mouth in spite of myself. I'd have plenty of time to explain later, after she'd gotten a sufficient amount of sleep. Right now it was time for her to rest, to let her body clear of the anxiety and the pain I was positive I'd inflicted on her in the past seven months. If our roles had been reversed, and Bella had been the one to leave me, I'd probably have to sleep for a year just to recover. So one night wasn't too much to give her. It barely scratched the surface of what I owed her.
I nestled back into my pillow and reached down to cradle Bella's face to my chest. Her warmth continued to dominate the temperature of our bodies; my cold did not hinder an ounce of her wonderful heat. I took a breath in through my nose, finally feeling somewhat satisfied inside, and closed my eyes. If it had been possible, the smoothness of Bella's skin and the melody of her heartbeat would have lulled me to sleep.
I could easily take another century of this, of being with Bella like this. If tomorrow, when Bella did wake up, she forgave me for everything and took me back, I would make it happen. I would never, ever hurt her again.
So you've been broken and you've been hurt
Show me somebody who ain't
Yeah, I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But, hell, a little touch up and a little paint...
You might need something to hold on to
When all the answers, they don't amount to much
Somebody that you could just to talk to
And a little of that human touch...
Baby, in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm asking's too much
I just want to feel you in my arms
Share a little of that human touch...
