Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight related.
"Why are you in such a rush to leave? You were fine a minute ago."
I'm trying to read his expression but I've got nothing.
"I didn't realize I was late for a luncheon a minute ago. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Bella."
"So you're going to just leave me in the classroom? Don't you have to lock it before you leave or something?", I lift myself up to sit on his desk.
Knock if off, he's your teacher for Christ's sake, Bella...
He's standing still, as if he's thinking about something. About what?
As he turns around, he takes a step closer to me. So close, I can feel his minty breath on my face.
Closer, come closer, please..
He looks into my eyes and whispers, "Stop."
"I don't know what you're talking abou-"
"Please, just stop."
He turns around and walks out of the room, leaving me in silence.
I hate rejection but at least he knows what I'm trying to do and deep down, I know he's squirming. I still feel my pulse pounding and I can't help but smirk..
Home, for me, is a black hole where even the happiest of moments aren't bright enough to shut out the dark.
It's 3 in the morning and I'm woken up my the piercing sound of shattering dishes. Shit...it's one of those nights. The nights I fear most. The nights when dad comes home intoxicated out of his fucking mind. I step quietly down the hallway to listen. My mom is crying.
"Charlie, you stay hours late after 'work', come home wreaking of whiskey and cheap perfume, and you get pissed at me for questioning where on earth you were?"
Oh no..she's sobbing now.
"You want to know if th-there's someone else, Rene?", he slurs, "Yes, there is and can ya blame me? Our marriage is a wreck, for fucks sake, you practically made me marry you just because you got pregnant. Who's fucking fault is that? Huh? I'm fucking stuck here."
And suddenly, tears are beginning to swell in my eyes before I can even process everything he said.
Just because you got pregnant
I'm stuck here
I can't...feel.
Did my parents ever love each other at all? Does any of the romance from novels and movies ever actually happen? Or do men just fake it for sex..
Fuck love, if men think they can do this to women, then women can do it to men. I want to break a man's heart. I want complete control over him.
I want a man to shatter at my feet.
But for now, I stand stripped in front of my vanity, watching small beads of crimson travel down my left arm. Don't get me wrong, I don't cut for pity or even because I feel I deserve the pain. To me, each scar is a story. A story that I feel is important enough to remember forever. But above all things, they're there because I want to look on the outside- exactly how I feel on the inside. A soul, flayed alive.
I'm sitting in English class after two weeks of staying home and pretending to be sick. Every time Edward looks my way he seems upset..worried? Angry?
I casually pull my sleeves down over my wrists to hide the wounds. Maybe he saw...why do I do this? It's got to be obvious to everyone...who wears long sleeves in August?
Broken people.
The people who force themselves to smile so no one suspects.
The sound of students exiting the classroom disrupts my thoughts.
I leave my things where they are and just sit still.
When everyone has left, Edward rises from his desk and moves to sit next to me.
Oh fuck...I feel tears swelling up...
"Bella...," he whispers softly as he gently grasps my left arm and turns it over to see my wrist.
I can't move. Silent tears are streaming down my cheeks.
After a few minutes, I feel him lift my hand and plant a soft, gentle kiss on my wrist.
Oh please, please don't stop..
Why am I not surprised by this? Is that bad?
I look up at him- his piercing green eyes- and within half a second, my right hand is around his neck, pulling him closer.
I can tell he's a weary..
"No, Bella, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have d-"
Oh god, please, no.
As soon as he sees new tears swelling in my eyes, he falls silent and slowly rests his forehead against mine.
"You know, it's actually hurting me to see you like this...why would you do this to yourself? You're beautiful, you have to know that."
He thinks I'm beautiful. This breathtakingly beautiful man thinks I'm beautiful.
I take a slow, shallow breath before I speak, "Yeah, well you've never seen a beautiful girl this shattered. I'm destroyed beyond all repair."
"What happened?"
Just try, Bella, just try to tell him. Tell somebody.
"It started over the summer..there was a guy-"
"Please don't tell me he hurt you," He mumbled, looking to the ground.
Just get it out, Bella. Just fucking say it.
"He did. And that was my first t-"
"Stop. Bella, does anyone know? Did you get help?"
"No. I snuck out of the house that night..I wasn't supposed to be out."
Is he...is he tearing up? Whoa...He is.
"My best friend..when we were kids, that happened to her."
He understands...Oh God, I need him. What I'm beginning to feel for him was not part of the plan.
"Look, you're the only person I've told and it wasn't exactly easy. Just let me get it all out."
"Bella, I don't think it would be appropriate for me to know given the subject matter. You should talk to the guidance councelor or-"
"I don't want a guidance counselor to know, I want you to know."
He takes a long pause before speaking. "Just...please spare me the details."
"I s out one night during the summer to go hang out with a friend of mine who said she invited two guys over. I had never...before that night, everyone I knew had already done a bunch of stuff and I don't know, I guess I felt like I needed to catch up with them or something. Like I was missing out. So we were all in my friends pool and this guy that I'd gotten along with really well asked if I wanted to go take a walk. I mean, I'm not stupid. I knew stuff would happen and I wanted it to but I didn't want to really...I guess, go all the way. Anyway. That was the first time. Romantic, I know." I half smile in attempt to make light of the story.
I can't tell what he's thinking...he's looking at me- almost examining. I run one hand through my hair and slouch but right as I look down, he moves forward to tilt my chin up and kiss me.
"It's a shame that's what you have to remember. I just..." He trails off.
Oh, why couldn't the first time be with this beautiful, beautiful man...I can't help but wonder what it would be like with him.
He starts again, "If I got my hands on him-"
My lips are on his before he can finish his sentence and, to my pleasant surprise, he isn't hesitant to kiss me back this time.
Chills take over my entire body when his lips trail softly down my neck as he begins to peel back my sweater.