No I'm not dead.
though right now, I wouldn't mind it. lol
I'm sorry I haven't been around...I just had a lot of crap going on. You don't want to hear my excuses.
New story. It'll be like 10 chapters or less.
I don't care if you hate it.
It's been in my head for 38472893 years.
There will be sex. There will be tears. There will be laughter. (hopefully?)
This is a REALLY long chapter...but it's mainly just dialogue...I know, I know. Who wants to read the conversation, why not just skip to the sexin'? :)
But fear not, I have a plan...kinda. lol
Just tell me what you think.
Time Together Is Just Never Quite Enough
This better work.
It better work fucking nicely.
I was on my way to New York and I was scared to hell.
So maybe it was a mistake.
But maybe it wasn't.
Who knew? Jake certainly hadn't been a help with that problematic situation.
Dumbass.
Glad I dumped the bitch and moved on.
I sat down at my seat and took some crackers out to settle my stomach.
I hate being nauseous.
I looked out the window and watched the families say goodbye to their precious friends and family members. Waving, hugging, kissing, holding; all of the onlookers with that same sad look in their eyes. Their outreached hands finally parted from one another and then the whistle sounded, letting us know that it was time.
The journey was beginning.
I heard the conductor yell and then the wheels started churning. I could hear the shuffling of feet of the passengers hustling to their seats, praying that I wouldn't be stuck with one of those "sleep-on-my-shoulder" men who would start to drool or slobber all over my favorite black scarf or a "talk-till-my-ears-are-bleeding" woman in her late fifties that had about a billion pictures of her Pomeranian in different sweaters that matched the seasons.
Please.
The door opened and I looked to see my destiny.
Copper.
The first thing I noticed was his copper hair. It was in disarray. Kind of like he had been up all night, running his hands through it, stressed out completely.
The second thing I noticed was his leather jacket and dark jeans that he wore low on his hips, tightly .He was tall and lean, but I could tell he was fit underneath the gray t-shirt. He smelled of cheap beer and grass and smoke and puppies and butterflies.
Wait, what?
He looked at me for a long second and then closed the door, putting his things on the long bench in front of me and took a seat, nodding in my direction.
I smiled weakly. I hadn't smiled since, well last week. Last week when I wasn't so "needy".
I reached into my bag next to me and pulled out my book, starting to read.
"I haven't heard of that one before," the copper-haired boy spoke.
Speak again.
"My mother wrote it," I said glancing at the cover. "It's her diary."
"She published her diary?" He asked raising his eyebrows, causing the sweetest looking lines to appear on his forehead.
"She's just that kind of person, very open and very outspoken."
He mouthed "oh" and then went back to his journal that he was now writing in.
"Is that your diary?" Since when was I one for talking?
"Let me tell you now that I have a pair of balls, which means I don't have a fucking diary," he said defensively. I didn't say another word and got back to my book. I was fairly sure I had read the same sentence thirteen times and still hadn't processed the words. I was too aware of his presence.
"It's a journal…of songs." I glanced up to find the mysterious boy and found him looking at me. Up and down went his eyes. Up and down once again. And a third time, up and down.
"You're a songwriter?" I asked, intrigued.
"Musician, he said motioning to the guitar case on his right. I had missed that when he came in; I guess I was too busy checking his ass out.
It was my turn to mouth "oh" and then went back to my book. I was still on the same sentence I had been comprehending and finally slammed the book shut and tossed it in my bag. I looked out the window and saw all the trees and hills and meadows pass by.
Yellows, greens, browns, and whites passed us by and I found myself listening to the sound of the pen on paper of the stranger in front of me. I grabbed my iPod, annoyed at the etchings of words being placed on the paper.
The music started playing and my knees started bouncing along and my head bobbing a little. My eyes closed and I let the music make my thoughts come in a little sweeter, a little calmer, and a little more capable of handling.
My iPod was ripped out of my hands and my eyes snapped open to see him going through my songs. I ripped out my earphones.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked irritated. You don't just grab someone's music from them. That shit was illegal in most states, or it should be. It was fucking rude and crass of him. Who the hell was this guy?
"Matt and Kim?" He asked sounding…surprised?
"Yea, it's called good music. Not any shit you probably play."
"I agree with you on Matt and Kim, but Katy Perry? Please don't tell me you have kissed a fucking girl and liked it. Or actually, do." He was smirking now and I instantly hated it. It made him look smug and narcissistic and sexy.
"For your information, I've only listened to that song once and it was at a bachelorette party," I retorted.
"Sure you have," he said, still smirking. I was not usually a violent person, okay I really was. But I had the urge to slap that stupid smirk off that perfectly angular face. He hadn't shaven in a few days, his face scruffy looking and the desire to nuzzle me face on his instantly took over my body.
Get a grip.
I rolled my eyes like the immature teenager lurking in my body and went back to looking outside the window. He continued to analyze my playlists, making "hms" and nodding occasionally and then scoffing at others.
I tried my best to ignore him and his cocky smile.
Prick.
"Okay, so your music isn't that bad," he stated throwing my iPod over to my bag.
Okay, if that's broken, you're getting your ass kicked.
"Okay, let's see your iPod then." He took it out of his pocket and tossed it to me. It was scratched and looked like a jackhammer had come across it a few times.
"You realize you have five thousand songs on here, right?"
"I like a lot of music," he stated simply. Touché.
"Well Daft Punk I'll let slide, but CSS is going a little too far."
"Music is my hot, hot sex," he replied smiling.
"I bet it is," I replied.
"Please, continue your interrogation of my musical taste," he said smiling, again that smirk came on his face and I wanted to claw it off.
"Oh. My. God. You have Miri Ben-Ari on here?" Every time I said her name people thought I was speaking Hebrew. My friends were lacking in the music department.
"She's the best," he said leaning back, putting his hands behind his head so his shirt rode up a bit. I glanced at the V that came into view and quickly went back to looking at his songs, trying to get the image of his gorgeous abs that was in my peripheral out of my head.
Too late, it's imprinted into your brain now.
"You really do have a variety of music on here," I said viewing songs by REO Speedwagon, De La Vega, and Barcelona.
"I've been collecting since I was old enough to listen to music," he replied. "I have a knack for it."
"Excuse me?" I said, with a tone of derisive.
"I like to listen to music that reminds me of people, it helps me remember them."
"So what song do you think when you see me?"
"I'll get back to you on that," he said. I handed back his iPod, figuring that I had had enough of this and went back to looking out the window.
"I'm Edward by the way," he said after a few moments. I looked over and saw that he was peering at me, his eyes darker than I remember.
"Fantastic," I said dryly.
"You know, people with manners actually say their name in response."
"Guess I don't have manners."
"I guess so."
I figured this was the end of the conversation so I went back to looking out the window, studying the vast plains and random houses situated every few miles.
"So…" I heard. I sighed and turned to him,
"Listen, we have a few hours together and I really don't want to have to explain why my seatmate is shoved in the compartment bin up above."
"You're all sunshine and daisies aren't you?" he asked giving me a crooked grin.
Hope that's the only thing on him that's crooked.
Wait, what?
"You have no idea," I said clearing my throat.
"And maybe I want you to stuff me in the overboard compartment, I mean, if you join me."
"Drop dead."
"I like you," he said chuckling.
"I wish that feeling was mutual."
"Oh? You don't like me?"
"Can't say that I do."
"Why don't you like me? I'm usually very well-liked."
"I don't know, maybe because you won't shut up?" Edward was silent, looking pensive as I turned back to the outside world. I let my mind wander on the past week's events, trying not to scoff at how ugly things had been.
Whatever.
"Can I talk yet?" I rolled my eyes and looked back at Edward.
"Couldn't even make it five minutes, could you?"
"I hate silence, it's too loud," he stated simply.
I didn't reply, just nodded and moved my eyes back to the window. I heard some shuffling and then I felt pressure on my side and when I looked over, Edward was leaning into me, on my seat, breathing the same air.
"What's with you and looking at that fucking window?" He asked.
"It's better than looking at you."
Such a lie.
Maybe the biggest one I've ever told.
Maybe.
Okay, definitely.
"That's the first complaint I've heard," he said smirking.
"What's up with you and the fucking smirk?" I asked mocking his tone from earlier.
"It doesn't dazzle you?" He questioned, flashing a perfect set of teeth.
"Why the hell would it dazzle me? And who says dazzles?"
Yes, it does dazzle me.
He shrugged but stayed in his seat.
Next to me.
"So…why are you going up to New York?"
"Jesus!" I said screaming and standing up. "Do you ever shut up?" I went and sat down on the other seat.
"Not really," he said chuckling. "I get it from my sister."
I didn't say anything, just kept staring out the window.
"After growing up with someone who could talk the ears off of anyone, and I mean, anyone, you learn how to deal with all the talking."
"And how do you deal with all the talking?" I asked.
"By talking more than they do," he replied with a brilliant smile. I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped my lips.
"Wow, you have an amazing laugh," he spoke. I quickly stop smiling and looking at him for a sign of sarcasm.
Nothing, just that wonderful crooked smile.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"You're very welcome…"
"Bella," I sighed.
"Bella," he said and my stomach churned.
I'm nauseous, I don't have butterflies. I'm nauseous. I'm nauseous. I'm nauseous.
"I like it," he replied.
Definitely butterflies.
I grabbed the sack of crackers in my bag, sat back down, and then started to chew on them, hoping to help my stomach.
"So, Bella, you like Matt and Kim and you like Saltines," he started.
"Pretty boring, huh?" I laughed.
"Not at all."
"Please."
"I'm serious. Too many people are trying to be different nowadays, they're all the same. Now you, you are the only different person I've met."
"Well Edward, you like Travis and are a musician," I began.
"And I'm like everyone else," he stated.
"No, that's not what I meant."
"It's okay, I am like everyone else," he said laughing. "But I'm okay with that."
"Okay, good." His smile grew and he leaned against the window, his fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
"Why are you going up to New York?" I asked curiously.
"Going to see family."
"The talkative sister?"
"The esteemed father."
"Mother?"
"Ah, yes, she'll be there too."
"You don't seem very excited."
"Are you ever excited to see your family?"
"Good point."
"Are you going to freak out again if I ask you the same question?"
"I guess you'll have to take your chances."
"Why are you going to New York?"
"Look, no bitching here."
"I'm waiting."
"Doctor."
"Are you sick?"
"Obviously."
"You could have been pregnant."
"I'm far from pregnant."
"Boyfriend can't get it up?" I laughed and shook my head.
"No boyfriend." Did his eyes just light up?
"No prospects?"
"Besides you? No. I mean, there was. But I cut him loose three days ago."
"I am not going to disagree with the first part of that statement, but why'd you let him go?"
"He couldn't handle certain things."
"Like?"
"Like my want for silence," I replied.
"Was that a subtle hint?"
"No, that was a non-subtle hint."
"Got it." It was quiet for awhile. I took the time to think and look back out the window. Seconds passed, then minutes, and then an hour had passed.
Edward got up and walked out of the small cubicle and the silence suddenly bothered me. I had never realized that it was so loud. I don't know why but it bothered me as I shifted in my seat, trying to get more comfortable. I glanced at Edward's guitar case next to me and then at the closed door.
No, Bella.
Oh, do it!
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
Okay, fine.
I jumped up out of my seat and kneeled in front of the black case, opening up the top and peering inside. The acoustic guitar was beautiful but what grabbed my attention were the pictures taped to the inside. Pictures of him with his arm wrapped around a spiky, short-haired woman; both laughing at something, their eyes closed and Edward's other arm was curled around his stomach, holding it. Another picture was of Edward and a burly, brown-haired man. Both were in their boxers, smiling and posing in silly ways. I noticed Edward's flat and lean stomach, remembering the taught muscles I saw earlier. The third picture was of Edward the black-haired woman, the brown-haired man, and two others: an older man and woman, all smiling brilliantly at the camera. All happy and gleeful. The rest of the pictures were pictures of young children, presumably Edward as a little boy, and others were random pictures of landmarks.
I heard the door start to click as I slammed down the guitar case and jumped back into my seat, same position. Edward came in and nodded at me and then sat down across from me.
"Where'd you go?" I asked.
"What are you, my mother?" He said playfully.
"If I was, you wouldn't be allowed to leave the house like that."
You look too amazing.
"What's wrong with how I look?" He said looking down at his clothes.
"You look like you just had a drunken night at Motel 8."
"What if I did?" I didn't know how to respond with that so I just went back to watching the scenery.
"Where are you from?"
"Washington."
"Oh, the D.C. area?"
"No, the state."
"You mean…"
"The Pacific Coast, yeah."
"Wow." Was his response.
"You're quite the intelligent one, aren't you?"
"Why the hell are you on the East Coast then?"
"You know that boyfriend who couldn't handle things? I moved out here to be with him."
"How long ago was that?"
"Seven or eight months ago."
Seven months, four days, three hours and fifty-eight minutes, to be exact.
But who was counting?
"So you just moved out here, 'seven or eight months ago' and then just split?"
"No."
"So you're not running away?"
"I have a doctor's appointment."
"Sure."
"I do."
"Yea, that could be just a ploy to get away from the boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Touchy, touchy."
"Shut up."
"You like saying that a lot." I sighed again.
"I'm just trying to figure you out."
"Well, don't." He laughed and I wanted to make him laugh again.
"You have me curious, Bella. I don't give up that easily."
"Why?"
"Just who I am. I'm a sex-haired, guitar-playing, question-asking, curious guy."
Bingo.
"Well I didn't invite you into my problems," I said firmly.
"I never get invites; I'm more of a crasher."
"You can say that again."
"Well if you want me to get out of your personal problems then ask me about mine."
"That's not conceited at all."
"Shut up."
"Only if you will."
"What was his name?"
"Jake."
"Does Jake have a last name?"
"Yes."
"But you're not going to tell me," Edward said with a glint in his eye.
"No." I took out my mother's diary once again and started to read at my favorite part. The day I was born. Call me narcissistic but I like hearing about the wonderful things Renee was thinking when I was handed to her in a soft, pink blanket.
The nurses gently lay the pretty bundle in my arms and I peeked inside. The sweet child was blinking rapidly, adjusting her big, brown eyes to the new world. Eyes like Charlie, nose like mine, with a dash of insecurity and curiosity in her expression. But that was my Bella: inquisitive and a little awkward. Her tiny finger reached out and I put my finger to touch the new human in my presence. Yes, she was real. Her little fingers wrapped around mine so tightly, so firmly, that I knew she would never let go of me. Charlie kissed my head and continued to count her fingers and toes, making sure she was just as much perfect as she seemed. Yes, my Bella was a gift from an angel.
I looked back out the window, letting the words sink in for the zillionth time. I always reread this passage when I needed encouragement. I blinked back the tears from the yearning for my mom and dad. They had met in high school, married at eighteen, pregnant at twenty, and then Renee decided to pack her suitcase and hit the road, dumping me with poor Charlie. But Charlie was a fighter and went after her, gone for days at a time. I would see him holidays while I stayed with friends and distant relatives. I remember when I was four of five, I came out of preschool and there was Charlie, standing there with his arms wide open, kneeling on the ground. I dropped my lunchbox and crayons and burst into his arms, so happy for "Daddy" to be home. He swung me around and I can still hear the giggles that escaped my mouth and his chuckle in my ear. I can still see his face when he told me he had a surprise for me, a twinkle in his eyes. He opened up the old cruiser and there, in the passenger seat, was Renee.
At first I didn't recognize her; I only looked back at my dad to see what he wanted me to do. He nudged me forward and with some hesitation, I hugged the strange lady. Her scent was familiar, her touch soothing, and her smile unforgettable. This was my mom.
From then on it had been smooth sailing and happy days. Renee and Charlie hardly ever fought and were the kind of parents you wished for. They would joke and laugh at the dinner table, pay bills while Renee wore a bandana in her hair and Charlie drank beer from a can, and even after I was sent to bed, I always tiptoed to the banister to watch them waltz around the room laughing and smiling. They were the perfect, happy couple with their perfect, happy lives. They had another child when I was fourteen, a step-sister for me and a new angel for them. I knew they loved me, but the spotlight was no longer on me. It was on the new one. So I packed my bags and ran. I ran with Jacob on the back of his motorcycle to the East Coast and lived with him in a worn-down apartment with no heating.
I barely knew him, but he was dangerous. He rode a Harley and had long hair. His skin was russet-colored, his eyes almost black. I remember seeing him and feeling scared, something I hadn't felt since Renee left and Charlie told me he was going after her. It was at that time that I felt the best, that I didn't know what was going to happen and where we would go from there. The excitement. Maybe that's why I was attracted to Jake, he made me nervous about what was yet to come. But then once reality hit us, I found out that he wasn't ready for the problems. It would have worked out if he could have grown up and seen the real world.
I was whipped back to reality as I felt something soft and delicate slide across my cheek, when I looked over, Edward was sitting next to me, wiping the tear that had escaped.
"I'm sorry," he spoke softly. And I knew he was. He didn't just say it because he didn't know what to say, he said it because he was truly sorry.
"Thanks," I said weakly. I grabbed a mirror out of my bag and checked my face. Red blotches, puffy eyes, sniffling nose; yep, I had definitely been crying.
"I'm a mess," I said wiping the smeared mascara.
"You're beautiful," he said pulling down my hand.
"What?" I asked quickly. "What did you say?"
"I said you're beautiful."
I just stared at him.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you, you were beautiful before?"
I just kept staring.
"Unlike anyone I've ever met."
And I believed him.
We stayed silent and just sat.
It was nice to just sit for once.
I wasn't sure the strange feelings I had growing deep within me, I just knew that they were caused by Edward.
Edward quickly got up and started grabbing things out of his guitar case and then sat on the ground. His back was propped up against one seat, his feet touching the other seat. He had two small rectangles in his hand and I cocked my head in interest. He patted the ground next to him and I shrugged and followed. I sat on his side while he messed with wires, taking out my iPod from my bag and plugged it in. There was a moment of silence and then it began.
The music played out loud.
"Till I Hear It From You?" He mused.
"Gin Blossoms," I replied.
"I see that your mom's last name is Swan," he said nonchalantly, motioning to the cover of my mom's diary.
"Yea, so?"
"So that would be your name too, right?"
"No," I said quickly.
"I'll take that as a yes." I didn't reply.
"Let's see what else you've got," he said while spinning his thumb in search of a song. "Ah, yes, you've got it. I knew you would."
I was about to ask him which song when he pressed the center button and the song played.
"Ryan Adams," I said. "Wonderwall."
"I'm impressed," he teased.
"I'm full of surprises," I said dryly.
"You sure are."
We let the music play and listened to the lyrics, closing our eyes to enjoy the sound.
"Bella?" I opened my eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Can I kiss you?" My mouth parted in surprise and Edward pressed a hand to my cheek softly. His other came and trailed it up and over my mouth, his nose grazing mine and my heart quickened.
My breathing was fast but at the same time quiet as I looked at his eyes and then to his lips. Then to his eyes. Then his lips. He leaned in closer and I could practically taste his sweet lips. Our lips pressed together lightly, growing firmer.
And the fireworks flashed across my eyes.
The power and emotion in that single kiss was more love or admiration that I had ever felt in my whole life. It awakened my soul and blazed across my skin, igniting my senses and crashing into my heart.
The kiss was broken too quickly as Edward gasped as he whipped backwards.
"Holy shit," he said panting. His fingers touched his lips and then looked to my arms.
Goosebumps.
"You felt that right, too?" I gazed at him.
"I felt a lot."
"That's…that's never happened to me before."
"Are you, are you biting your lip?" He asked amazed. I hadn't realized, I quickly stopped.
"No."
"You are!"
"No I'm not," I said quickly.
"Are you blushing?"
"No!" I hid my face. Blushing hadn't happened to me since…well sixth grade. I was passed that awkward phase of my life.
I. Do. Not. Blush.
"Hey, its okay, I find your blushing and lip-biting very sexy."
You're not helping.
So I threw my hand at him and hit his chest.
He caught my arm and kissed my palm. I yanked my hand back towards my body and stare wide-eyed at him.
"Don't." I said softly. He frowned at me.
A knock on the door opened and the conductor stepped inside, peering at us strangely as we both sat on the floor, between the seats, staring at each other.
"Excuse me, we will be serving lunch in the dining car if you'd like to join." He turned on his heel and left, on to his next passenger.
"Come on," Edward said as he stood up and offered me a hand. I didn't take it. I stood up by myself and walked down towards the dining car with Edward in tow.
People stared at the two of us as we entered and I quickly found an empty table, happy to get some warm food in my stomach.
Edward sat across from me.
"What are you doing?"
"Eating lunch, what does it look like?" he asked placing the napkin in his lap.
"I mean, why don't you find your own table?"
"Is that what you said to Jake after he kissed you?"
"Something along those lines."
"Oh, do tell," he said.
"It was after sex, I broke up with him."
"Harsh."
"I think of it more as a post-coital cutoff."
"How prurient of you." I shrugged and looked down at the menu.
"So what's the deal with breaking up with him after he wrapped and tapped?"
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Every day and twice on Sunday."
I sighed, once again.
"I guess that's what it took to realize that even if we give each other ourselves in that way, it would never be enough. He just couldn't get there."
"You mean to that level?"
"Of intimacy, yes."
"What couldn't he take?" I shook my head.
"That's enough questions."
"At least one more, for now?" He took my silence as an indicator to continue. "If he never could get to that level from the start, then why were you with him for so long?"
"It's simple."
"Mind explaining it to me?"
"Every girl wants to be the girl that changes that guy."
"You mean all that romantic-comedy bullshit is actually true?"
"Sadly, yes."
"So, you're a romantic."
"I never said that."
"Wow, Bella is a romantic."
"Shut up."
"Never." I stuck my tongue out at him. He smirked. I wanted to punch it off.
The waiter arrived and we ordered our food, both asking for a sandwich and lemon-water. Edward started scribbling things down in his journal; I hadn't known he brought it.
"What are you writing?" I asked.
"Stuff."
"Oh so now you have nothing to say?" I guess that upset Edward for he sat up straight and handed me the notebook. I quickly read the lyrics and I gasped.
They were amazing.
Better than amazing; emotional, heart-breaking, and real.
"These are…"
"Crap?"
"No, outstanding."
"You're lying."
"I'm not. These are very good."
"You don't know anything," Edward said.
"I think I would, I write for my City's newspaper."
"Wait, you're not the Bella Swan, are you?"
"….should I lie now?"
"Oh, my God. You're THE Bella Swan? Holy fuck, I love your work!"
"Thanks, I am going to ignore your previous comment about me not knowing anything."
"Please do."
"How do you know my work?"
"I saw it one day on the subway, some man was reading it and I had nothing else to do, I had forgotten my iPod. Actually, Alice stole it from me. Wow, I'm going way off topic. Anyways, I read over his shoulder and became addicted to it. I read it religiously."
"I guess a 'thank you' is in order?"
"No, I should be thanking you; I get a lot of my lyrics when I read your stuff."
"My stuff?"
"I put down my iPod for it, that's how big of a deal your column is."
"Stop, you're making me blush." I said dryly.
"Everyone?" Edward said standing up, pointing at me. "This is Bella Swan, the world's fucking best writer. You may not know it, but this is a day of history for you. You're in the presence of greatness."
"Please. Stop. Really." Edward sat down as mothers covered children's ears and glared daggers at him.
"I can't believe it; I knew there was something about you…" Edward began and then his eyes lit up. "HOLY FUCK I KISSED BELLA SWAN!"
"Please be quiet!" I shushed him as I noticed all the pairs of eyes staring at me.
"Would you be opposed to letting me have my way with you?"
"No, you sick perv."
"I just had to ask, I mean, it would have been awesome to say that I fooled around with the next Great one."
"Well when you become famous, I'll write a column about you and your music." If his eyes were lit up before, they were almost gouging out of his eye sockets in an almost cute, sexy way.
"You know," he said calming down. "When I'm famous and we were together, we could be the next power couple. We could be Brangelina. Or better yet, Bedward."
"Bedward?"
"Or Ella. Whichever, I suppose."
"No, no Bedward, no Ella. No. No. No."
"Why not? We'd be kickass as a couple."
"Except I don't like you and you don't know me."
"Au contraire mon ami, I know you."
"Translation?"
"Through your writing, I've become to known you. I actually think of us as friends."
"Which we're not."
"I'll pay you five dollars to let me grope you."
"I'm worth more than five dollars."
"Ten?"
I squinted my eyes and crossed my arms.
"Okay, so no groping. Well, what piece are you working on?"
"Breaking up and running away to a doctor's appointment."
"Funny."
"I thought it was."
"Really, what are you working on?"
"That's classified."
"I'm your biggest fan."
"That's sad."
"Shut up."
"Hey, that's my line."
"Yea well I quote most of the things you write, why not the things you say, too?"
"You do know that I think of you as a crazed fan, right?"
"Just as long as you know that I fantasize about you."
"Ew."
"Too much?" He smirked. He was smirking the whole damn time.
"Could we please talk about something besides work?"
"Nope. Not until you tell me what you are writing, why we aren't making out more, and how much you'll take for me to get a picture of your tits."
I got up, a little pissed, okay, a lot pissed and walked back to our seats.
I huffed and sat down. I grabbed my notebook and pencil and started writing, writing about the whole experience. Writing about Edward the mysterious guy I had met with his sex-crazed hair, leather jacket and pompous attitude. Writing about how stupid girls were. Writing about how hungry I was because I didn't get to finish my lunch.
A few minutes passed and I got bored so I laid down, facing the back of the seat, and threw a blanket over me, plugging in my headphones and let "Designer Skylines" by Owl City fill my ears and help me to calm. I focused on my breathing and clearing my head and right as I was about to fall asleep, my headphone was ripped from my ear.
"What the fuck?" I screamed turning to see the object of my hatred.
He just smirked.
I fumbled my way into standing position and then… I stomped on his foot.
"OW!" He wailed.
"Well, you deserve it," I said crossing my arms.
"I'm sorry."
"So?"
"Well now is the time you say, 'I forgive you Edward.'"
"How about, I hate you Edward?"
"That's sort of the same thing only….not."
"Just please, you stay on that side of the car and I will stay on this side," I motioned.
"Why would I want to do that? I like being near you." He stepped closer to me and I backed away involuntarily.
"You really don't like people near you." I shrugged.
Edward tilted his head and looked at me wondrously.
"What?" I asked.
He continued to stare.
"Would you stop staring at me?"
He continued to stare.
"What the hell—"
"I'm going to kiss you again, Bella Swan." And with that, his hands were on me and his lips were pressed up on mine.
The friction his lips created on mine was heaven, like a warm fuzzy feeling that tingled my whole body. His scruff rubbed on my face and I found my hands in his hair, feeling the thick, soft mane. His breathing was shallow, as was mine, and I pressed further into him as he moved his lips with mine.
He sucked on the bottom lip and he tasted like the finest honey, sweet and melted on my tongue.
I licked him and he shivered.
His hands roamed down my body, feeling every curve while our lips explored each other. The touch didn't light my body aflame, but it brought an icy touch. A touch that excited my body and kept me on my toes, I shivered and tugged on his lips with my teeth. I opened my eyes to look at him, my hands were on his jacket collar as I leaned back to access his reaction.
"I'm not sure I can ever kiss another girl now."
It was my turn to smirk.
"What? No comment on my kissing technique?"
"Your teeth are sharp."
"I'll take that as a compliment." I nodded.
"Now why are you going to the Doctor's?"
I backed away, shaking my head and went and sat down by my bag.
"Come on, Bella," he said kneeling in front of me. "Why won't you tell me?" His voice was soft and quiet; his hands were on my knees as I looked at the floor.
"It's bad, isn't it?" I didn't reply, just stared at the floor, willing for the tears to not come this time. Please, just this once, don't come.
He reached under my chin and pulled it up to look at him, my eyes watering and filling with tears as he searched them for an answer. His thumb brushed right under my eye, wiping away a stray tear.
"You don't have to tell me," he whispered quietly. His fingers tracing down my cheek until they reached my lips. I could taste the salt on my lips and I saw no pity in his eyes, but care.
That'd be the first time someone hasn't looked at me without pity for me being sick.
"If I ask you to do something, would you?" I asked.
"Absolutely," He answered quickly.
"Have sex with me."
"What? You're crazy." He stood up and walked back to his seat, staring at the wall and not sitting down. His back was to me as he stared at the wall. He was silent for the longest time, I didn't know what to say.
"You're the one who asked to grope me." I tried joking.
"Don't be stupid, Bella. That was a joke."
"What? You're all talk, no action?"
"When it comes to a girl I just met, yes."
"So you are rejecting me?"
He turned and looked at me, knowing the trick.
"Don't even try that one."
"I don't know what you are talking about," I said nonchalantly getting up and moving towards to the door. I needed to get out of this cramped room with him. He caught me on the arm and willed me to look at him.
"It wouldn't be right," he whispered against my cheek that I'd turned to him.
"What if it was a dying girl's last request?" I said softly.
"What?" His grip became firmer and his whole hand wrapped around my bicep.
"Nothing," I mumbled and took another step to get out, but he gripped tighter.
"Tell me."
"It's not your business," I said firmly.
"You can't play that card anymore."
"Why won't you do it then?"
"Let me get this straight, you want me to have sex with you, here and now?"
"Why not?"
"Because…you know, I have no reason not to. You won't regret it?"
"I'm not a thirteen old-girl, I promise I won't cry when you don't call."
"Too bad." That smirk. I was falling in love with it. I smiled at the victory.
"So you'll do it?"
"Yes."
continue or not?
Brooklynn10