Stay While I Play The Piano In The Dark For You, a twilight fanfic

STAY WHILE I PLAY THE PIANO IN THE DARK FOR YOU

BY ZAKHARIAHZ

CHARACTERS: EDWARD & BELLA

GENRE: ROMANCE/ANGST (SONG FIC)

RATING: M (FOR LANGUAGE)

AN:- OK, THIS SONG (PIANO IN THE NIGHT) IS REALLY ONE OF MY FAVOURITES AND IT'S PERFECT FOR A CLASSIC EDWARD/BELLA STORY. IT'S ALSO BELLA'S SONG IN THE FANFIC. THE OTHER SONG (STAY) IS ONE THAT I REALLY LIKE AND IS EDWARD'S SONG IN THIS FANFIC…IT'S NOT THE INITIAL FANFIC I WAS SPEAKING ABOUT IN MY AUTHOR'S NOTE BUT THIS ISN'T GOING TO TAKE A LONG TIME TO WRITE AND SINCE I GOT A LITTLE TIME I DECIDED TO WRITE IT. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW…IT'S MY FIRST ROMANCE BETWEEN EDWARD AND BELLA AND IT'S LEMON FREE…ENJOY.

BTW…JUST SO THERE'S NO CONFUSION, BELLA'S 26 AND EDWARDS'S 32.

SUCKY SUMMARY: Bella fell in love with Edward back in high school when she was sixteen but now, ten years later, they're crumbling and Bella is giving up but he always finds a way to pull her back. She always loved him and will always love him but it's just too much. Edward wants her to stay and wants to try to change his ways…again but this time, can he make her believe that he means it?

PIANO IN THE DARK

When I find myself watching the time
I never think about all the funny things you said
I feel like it's dead
Where is it leading me now

I turn around in the still of the room
Knowing this is when I'm gonna make my move
Can't wait any longer
And I'm feeling stronger but oh

Just as I walk through the door
I can feel your emotion
It's pullin' me back
Back to love you

I know I'm caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little
When he plays piano in the dark

He holds me close like a thief of the heart
He plays a melody
Born to tear me all apart
The silence is broken
And no words are spoken but oh

Just as I walk through the door
I can feel your emotion
It's pullin' me back
Back to love you

I know I'm caught up in the middle
I cry just a little
When I think of letting go
Oh no, gave up on the riddle
I cry just a little
When he plays piano in the dark

STAY

Walking out the door this morning
Wondering what it is that's going on with you, on with you
Thinking of a way to say I'm sorry
For something that I'm not sure I do, sure I do

So come on baby, let me in
And show me what this really is

'Cause something must have made you say that
What did I do to make you say that to me?
Something must have made you so mad
What can I do to make you say come back to me?

Hoping for a moment that I turn around
And you'll be coming after me, after me
'Cause all that I can say is that it's obvious
It's obvious you're all I see, all I see

So come on, baby, let me in
And show me what this really is about
'Cause I can't read you
Come on baby, let me in
And show me what this really is

'Cause something must have made you say that
What did I do to make you say that to me?
Something must have made you so mad
What can I do to make you say come back to me?
Come back to me

And I'll be here in the morning if you say stay
If you say stay to me, oh
And I'll be here in the morning if you say stay
If you say stay to me, oh
And I'll be here in the morning if you say stay
If you say stay to me, oh

Something must have made you say that
What did I do to make you say that to me?
Something must have made you so mad
What can I do to make you say come back to me?

Isabella Swan

I was through with the fighting and the lying and everything negative feeling that comes out of this relationship. I was through with feeling like I wasn't good enough for him. My bags were packed and in the trunk of his Volvo; his precious baby who he always seemed to love more than me but definitely less all of the women who owned his always smile. It very naïve of me to even begin to think that that smile was for me and me only but I still wondered what I had done wrong if I had done anything wrong at all. He was out for now, driving around with my suitcase. How ironic was that? Him brining my things home to me so that I could make my flight while he slumbered.

My finger was naked of the promise ring – never an engagement ring or wedding band – he gave to me in declaration of his 'undying love'. The ring was no symbol of love or affection. I saw that ring as a manacle that chained me down through the laws of morality and loyalty…maybe even downright guilt. As the current woman of his household, I did my duties as was expected of me by the master of the house. I cleaned and cooked, left his abode in good condition, put every ounce of my undying love into the food, hoping he would taste it, hope he would know he didn't need the others. I hoped one last time…

Edward Masen

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep telling her I love her then leave to love someone else. I can't keep telling her I love her then make her feel like she's no good. Fuck! I can't keep hurting her! I had sat and had watched her sleep for nights on end in my state of blameworthy insomnia, tears clumping her eyelashes, broken sobs and heart-wrenching pleas driving a serrated blade into my heart. She had cried so many time – my best girl, my number one supporter, my best friend – and had begged me for answers, begged me not to do this to us, never her….US and what had I done? I had told carelessly her that I loved her again, had told her she was all I needed again, played her lullaby that I had written for her when she was still in high school. I had ravished her until she was senseless and content enough to want to stay with me again. No matter how many times I come to terms with what I had done or promise both of us that I would stop, I would still do it again; I would go and warm the beds of others who wouldn't celebrate with me after I had a great performance with the orchestra or hold my hands to stop me from hurting them when I thought I hadn't been good enough, wipe my tears when I miss my parents or say 'I love you too' and actually mean it. I pushed the accelerator further down and let my guilty tears flow for my Bella, smiling slightly for I had another way to ask her to stay.

Isabella Swan

22:48.

He was late. Again. The hardest thing about falling in love was that it was hard to fall back out but love made hate easy. Hate was not the absence of love but, rather, it was fuelled by it. Love was synonymous with trust and trust was synonymous with vulnerability and when you had been hurt by the one you loved the best, vulnerability turned into bitterness and then hate just came along naturally. At that point in time, I could've safely said that I didn't hate him. No, I still loved him beyond belief – my first love, my first time, my first heartbreak – but I hated what he had done to me.

All of the lights were off. Headlights shone through the new lace curtains I had put up earlier and tires scraped up into the cobblestone drive. My heart began beating faster…

That morning…

"Bella, why do you always have to do this! Tell me what's wrong!"

"Why I always have to do…" I stopped, clutching my robe up to my neck and breathing out heavily through my nose. "Just leave, Edward, please. Yes, it's my entire fault. Now leave. I told the women to flock to you. I made you unable to resist them. I made you cheat on me. I made you do everything wrong because I'm sick."

"Why do you have to be so self-centered? Not everything is about you."

I laughed cruelly, turning to sneer at him, "No, because it's always about you! I love you, Edward! Dammit! I am really, honestly, truly, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you and I gave up my life to be with you. I skipped college to move around the country with you and when I started, I had to drop out because you knocked me up and didn't want me commuting while I was pregnant then I lost the baby thanks to one of your psycho bitch girlfriends who beat me with a fucking wrench because she tthought that no one but her should have your baby! I stayed with you all through that and you can't even stay with me and love me just for being me."

"I-" He moved to interrupt me, taking a step towards me.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! None of your whores are there holding your hands when your want to break them off because you don't think they make beautiful music and tell you with a genuine heart that no one can play like you. None of them hold you and cry with you when you wake up from nightmares about your parents' accident until you fall back asleep. None of them drag their sore, aching asses out of bed to make you a hot breakfast just so you can sleep in for a few extra minutes before you go in for rehearsal. None of them, Edward, and this is the thanks I get for it. This is my payment for loving you."

I sniffled a bit, wiping my nose in the sleeve of my robe before gulping down a sob. "Did you know that my father hasn't spoken to me in eight years?" His eyes widened in honest astonishment. "Of course you don't. I never burden you with my problems. Even when the hospital had called him before they called you, he told them his daughter died."

"Bella, I…" His head hung as he left his sentence incomplete.

"And that's all you have to say for yourself." I managed something that sounded like a laugh. "Just go. Go to them and drown your problems in them like you always do. I love you. Bye."

Before I turned away from him, he turned away from me and left our bedroom.

My hands were visibly shaking and my palms were cold and clammy with anxiety. The front door swung open, letting yellow light from the outside street lamp into the grey shadows of the house. Footsteps sounded against the hardwood floor from the impact of his Nikes. The keys clattered discordantly in the ceramic dish I had put out. There was this huge lump forming in my throat but I swallowed it down. I wasn't so sure if I was serious about my decision anymore.

Edward Masen

I couldn't hear her but I could feel her sitting in the adjacent room. My heart began beating faster…

That morning…

"Bella, why do you always have to do this! Tell me what's wrong!"I found it easier on my conscience to blame her.

"Why I always have to do…"She stopped, clutching the robe I had given her last year for Christmas up to her neck and breathing out heavily through her nose. The picture of her flaring nostrils wasn't hard to imagine. "Just leave, Edward, please. Yes, it's my entire fault. Now leave. I told the women to flock to you. I made you unable to resist them. I made you cheat on me. I made you do everything wrong because I'm sick." Do the right thing, Dickward, tell her that it isn't her fault. Tell her she shouldn't feel that way. Tell her that you're sorry! Anything but what you know you're going to say!

"Why do you have to be so self-centered? Not everything is about you." You sick, sad fuck!

She laughed cruelly, turning to sneer at me, "No, because it's always about you! I love you, Edward! Dammit! I am really, honestly, truly, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you and I gave up my life to be with you. I skipped college to move around the country with you and when I started, I had to drop out because you knocked me up and didn't want me commuting while I was pregnant then I lost the baby thanks to one of your psycho bitch girlfriends who beat me with a fucking wrench because she told that no one but her should have your baby! I stayed with you all through that and you can't even stay with me and love me just for being me."

"I-" I moved to interrupt her, taking a step towards her to hold her and try to make it right.

She sniffled a bit, wiping her nose in the sleeve of her robe before gulping down a sob. "Did you know that my father hasn't spoken to me in eight years?" My eyes widened in honest astonishment. NO! She loves Charlie so much! How could that have happened?! "Of course you don't. I never burden you with my problems. Even when the hospital had called him before they called you, he told them his daughter died."I wanted to die at that point. I felt sick to my stomach and the bile was burning the back of my throat. She chose me over Charlie…

"Bella, I…" I head hung and left my sentence incomplete. I didn't know what to tell her.

"And that's all you have to say for yourself." She managed something that sounded like a laugh. "Just go. Go to them and drown your problems in them like you always do. I love you. Bye." 'I love you too…' Don't say it! You know you don't mean it. Do her a kindness and just leave.

Before she turned away from me, I turned away from her and left our bedroom, allowing a few small tears to wet my cheekbones.

My feet felt heavy as I struggled to pull them out of my sneakers. I would say nothing to her tonight for no words could compensate but I would go to my piano and play for her, play her new song. As quietly as I could manage, I shuffled into the living room to find her sitting on the stairs, her large, beautiful, brown eyes peering through the bars at me, her lips pursed in a tight line. Unconsciously, my head cocked to the side as I watched her looking at me, my tension going and my fingers lifting under the wings of her love. Unwillingly, I broke the stare and sat down on the piano bench, willing myself to start playing.

Isabella Swan

Even in the half-light, I could see that rehearsal had been rough for him in the dullness of his green eyes and the frown lines around his mouth. He stood in the middle of his impeccably clean living room, seeming out of place in his wrinkle blue button down and khakis and his worn socks. I could not bear to think his name as he stopped to stare at me with those tired eyes, opened slightly in a form of innocence. Slowly, almost uncertainly, is head cocked to the side, fingers wiggling to brush against the material of his pants. He was going to play and sure enough, he broke his stare and sat down at his baby grand piano, shoulders slumped forward, hands hanging between his legs, eyes transfixed on the ivory before him; his 88 slaves who begged to make them sing…

Flashback…

"I can't do it!" His long fingers tangled themselves in his already knotted hair and yanked in anguish. "I just can't play it, Bella. I'm not inspired."

Standing up, I carefully unknotted each finger, kissing them as they were freed then tilting his face up to look at me. "Yes, you can. Edward, I've never seen anyone play the piano like you do. Each ivory beauty sings higher and louder under your touch because you understand them. You coax their beauty and potential out to meet you. They're your 88 slaves who beg you to make them sing and you never disappoint." With a soft lingering kiss to his scrunched up forehead, his face relaxed. "You see these hands?" He looked forward into my stomach. "Edward, love?"

"Yes, Bella, I see them." His brow scrunched up in concentration, mainly focusing on my smaller fingers between his than his own.

"These hands are gifts and you should never doubt them. Now play for me, Edward." I brushed away his tears with my knuckles. "Please."

He made them sing…

For me.

The lullaby he had written for me when I was in high school was timeless to me but I would not let it chain me any longer. I stood up quickly and walked with my head held high out into the hallway. When my hand touched the ring on his keys, his fingers struck the first note.

"Bella…" I heard him whisper my name as he played a chord that enunciated my name, the composition starting up quietly, low and melancholy. He wove a tale of my sadness with his fingers, molding my anger and frustration into it but there was always a lower undertone, something bittersweet and undeniable. My limbs grew stiffer but I could've still made my fingers grip the keys. My body didn't move except for the liquid moistening me face. I listened to him show me the way I felt on the inside. Like the petulant child he had always been, he would be crying but I didn't know for a fact if he was crying for me or for himself. The composition reached its crescendo, exploding violently in my ears only to return to dejection. The despondency faded into something else that I couldn't mistake. He made his slaves sing for me in the key of my love. It ended on a pure note.

Edward Masen

She was still in the hallway. With my fingers still hovering above the keys, my shoulders tightened in apprehension. The door opened and slammed shut, then my car backed out of the drive and sped down the road.

Flashback…

"These hands are gifts and you should never doubt them. Now play for me, Edward." She brushed away my tears with her knuckles. "Please."

I made them sing…

For her.

She sat back down next to and played with my matted hair, encouraging me to play more. The words formed in my mind and tickled my lips but I said them with my fingers.

I love you.

And I meant it for the first time...

"I love you, Bella," I said to the empty house, touching my fingers to my lips and blowing a kiss to the door, "This time I really mean it too." And I knew she would feel that kiss and hear my words but I knew for sure without any doubt that deep within her heart, she'd know that I meant it.

Yes, she'd know because she was my special girl and, whether she knew it or not, had driven off with my 'always smile', as she liked to call it.