I'm never one to write pure fluff. *sigh* Inspired by the song, The End by The Classic Crime.
As ever, big thanks to my beta, DolceMia. I would die without her. Hopefully, you will survive this ride though!
Boy with the Crayons
As if on instinct, the woman smiles when the rain gently touches her skin. Her mind doesn't register the contact, but her heart acknowledges the smile. Her niece often asks why she loves the rain, but a woman's heart is a deep blue of secrets. But this time, when the droplet kisses her face, she decides it's time to share a love story for bedtime.
"In you go, sweetie," the woman whispers. "All tucked in?"
The little girl sleepily nods. There is a tiny scratch on her flushed cheeks from the evening's play, but her wide, hazel eyes are droopy with exhaustion. Alice often wears herself out when she plays with the Jasper boy. The woman caresses the girl's ebony hair admires her innocence. The memory of a boy with ivory skin flashes through her mind.
The woman shifts next to her niece, and asks, "How are you for a love story, Allie?"
The Sleeping Beauty seizes the moment, thus Bella begins her story...
- : -
In the corner of a colorful kindergarten class, a little girl just married off Barbie and Ken. Across the room, a penny-headed boy noticed the girl smashing the dolls' faces together. The little boy thought she was cute and wanted to talk to her, so he approached her.
"Hey," he said. "Wanna share my crayon set with me?" the penny-headed boy offered. "I have lotsa colors—more colors than the rainbow!"
The girl looked up at him with doe eyes and blushed. She was nervous that the green-eyed boy she had a crush on was talking to her. She looked down and asked, "Really?"
He nodded his head. "You look a little lonely. My mommy says to be nice to everyone, especially the girls. Come play with me!"
She grinned from ear to ear and stuffed her Barbies into her knapsack. The boy tucked the crayon set under his arm and gave the girl his coloring book to choose a picture they could color together. At their desks, the children argued over which picture to do—she wanted the flower, he wanted the horse.
"Why the horse?" the girl complained. "They're brown and boring!"
"What's wrong with the color brown? I think it's pretty."
"Pretty for a tree," she scoffed.
He disagreed. "Your hair! I really think your brown hair is pretty. It's like chocolate and chocolate is yummy."
The little girl was embarrassed, but agreed to color the horse with him.
"What's your name?" the boy asked suddenly.
The girl froze over the horse's mane. "Um, Bella. Yours?"
"I'm Edward Cullen," he smiled. "Wanna go get chocolate with me after school? Mommy won't mind," he assured.
She guessed since he thought her hair was pretty, they were friends now.
- : -
"Auntie, your hair is really pretty!" Alice pouts. "I wish my hair could be pretty. Mine is black—like the dark. I'm scared of the dark!"
"Your hair is pretty," the woman disagreed. "It's like the chocolate M&Ms you like. You know, the ones you beg me to give you whenever we buy a pack..."
"Your favorite are the green ones. I know why now," she giggled. "Tell me more, please!"
The woman carefully thinks of what to say next. A bittersweet feeling momentarily washes over her as she continues to her curious niece. Oh, the awkwardness of adolescence...
- : -
The kindergarten friends were no longer children as they approached their teenage years. The boy felt scrawny compared to the other boys; he felt like such a kid because he wasn't as developed as Bella, who was blossoming splendidly.
In order to "catch up," he hung out with Michael Newton and Tyler Crowley—he thought they were masculine enough. He felt more mature and desired around them. When he caught up in high school, girls appreciated him to his fullest potential. Girls clawed through his hair and raked their manicured nails over his arms. As he grew more into manhood, Edward was slowly losing himself. Bella caught him smoking heroin through a small tube in the boy's restroom.
"Bells, it was a first," he defended. "Way to ruin it for me..."
She rounded on him and seethed."If 'ruining' it means keeping you healthy," she spat, "then by all means, I will."
Her cheeks flushed with fury and her eyes stung with tears. Her best friend was killing himself with Newton and Crowley, and she loathed it all. Through their childhood, Bella knew it was hard to fool Edward. So how did those bastards make him turn a blind eye? What happened? She demanded he explain himself.
"Everyone's doing it," he mumbled. "It makes me feel good about myself."
Her heart sank. She wanted to choke on her tears, but she bit her lip. "Am I not good enough to keep you grounded?"
His eyes darkened and he grasped her shoulders. "Do not talk like that. Don't ever. Bella, you are my best friend—have been since we were kids."
"But you're slipping away. I can feel it."
Wordlessly, Edward grabbed her hand and laid it against his heart. She could feel the thrumming of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. She could feel the warmth seeping through his cotton sweater. She could feel the stutter in his heartbeat when she looked up at him through her eyelashes. She could feel the way he held on tighter to her hand on his heart.
He was very much alive, and the boy pleaded with his eyes to have her believe. They were heavy-lidded, but she noticed his desperation, his need for her to understand, peeking from behind his tousled hair. His green eyes smoldered into her brown eyes.
She took an unsteady deep breath and nodded. "I won't give up on you," she promised.
In his grasp, he raised this beautiful girl's hand to his lips.
- : -
"Oh, Auntie, you're so nice," the niece pouts. "He was being mean to you, but you still tried to help him. If Jazz was being mean, I would ignore him for days!"
The woman chuckles. "He was my best friend..."
The little girl's eye brows knit together. "Was?" she asked.
The woman's heart skipped a beat. She pursed her lips and nodded slowly. She thinks over her next words carefully, censorship appropriate for her eight-year-old.
- : -
Years passed, and the adolescents had striven past their young friendship to a meaningful relationship. Bella blossomed into a graceful young woman, and Edward grew into a lanky, attractive young man. She loved the way he murmured soft words to her. He loved the way she anchored him to Earth when they held onto each other. The young woman adored she could claim her best friend as hers, but she knew he was suffering.
"Isabella, please. The path I'm on... I don't want you to follow to me."
Tears brimmed her eyes. "Stop trying to scare me off! Let me love you."
"You will get hurt. I can't let you suffer that."
"I'm a big girl," she pressed. "I can make decisions for myself."
"Isabella, this is a decision you must leave in my hands," he said.
"No! I can't leave that burden with you."
"You will be disillusioned once you realize the costs."
She threw her hands into the hair, exasperated. "What costs, Edward? Enlighten me."
"The day you realize that I am not worth it."
"I won't let that happen."
"Listen, Bella, as your friend, I am warning you—I'm a burden unto you."
She grabbed his hand and laid it against her heart. "But as my lover, this is not the end."
"I will let you down."
"I believe in you. I belong with you..."
The young woman felt so vulnerable, exposing herself to him like this. Bella wore her paper heart on her sleeve, and the man who she felt unfathomable love for was pushing her away. Edward gazed at her tear-stricken face. It was impossible for him to understand her feelings for him. He cared for her deeply—more than his own life. Wasn't that enough for him to keep her?
"I love you," he murmured. "Truly, I do. But my demons—they're chasing me, Bella, and I can't get away from them."
She nodded to him, broken-hearted, but understanding. He was right—he wasn't romanticizing his addiction at all. The couple tried anything of everything to cleanse him, but they all failed.
Last year, Edward advised Bella to clean out his apartment. He made her promise to not hand over a stash, even if he begged on his hands and knees for it. He knew he would. And he did. The young woman watched her best friend grow sickly pale and tremble from the withdrawal. She watched her best friend rip away couch cushions and crawl into dusty corners of their tiny kitchen for anything. He became wild and paranoid, and even threatened her to give her a fix. She couldn't watch the man she loved struggle anymore.
"Don't follow me," he breathed. "Please."
She leaned into him and clutched at the fabric over his heart. She cursed the day heroin stole him away from her.
- : -
"What ever did happen to him, Auntie?" wonders Alice.
A sad smile falls onto her lips. "I wish I knew..." the woman trails off.
The truth is, Bella does know. Edward is in a better place now where his demons can't hurt him. Even though he has slipped away, his memory is tattooed into her heart.
She will never forget the innocent boy who came into her life.
She will never forget the handsome boy who stole her heart.
She will never forget the damaged boy who left her arms.
She will never forget the little boy with the crayons.