Chapter Two: His Flaws
A/N: I'm finally back! I'm supposed to be typing out the next chapter of D.S. , but inspiration struck for this one... and I was (hehe) kinda stuck at someplace from the next chapter of D.S.
I am absolutely horrible at replying to reviews because I mostly just update my chapter and pop off to get to my schoolwork and such... I will try to reply to your reviews from now on!
- And D.S. is definitely not completed yet.
Well, well, back to topic, I was finally out from work and skipping home happily and out popped this! Kufufu. From this chapter on, all POVs will be from Bella's, to clear any confusion up.
I hope you guys will enjoy reading this and I loved all of your reviews!
I cracked my eyes open with great strength, my throat parched and scratchy and my head fucking hurt. The rhythmic throb of what lies inside my skull felt like it was wrenching my head apart. I beat my fist against it a few times in a pathetic attempt to ease the pain, but it was - obviously - futile, other than bringing another new burst of white before my eyes.
"Ugh," I groaned loudly, covering my eyes with my hand, reluctant to bring myself up.
What makes you think I care about Bella?
The words spoken by his deep, baritone voice seem to slam against my skull and I winced, feeling my dry eyes from crying too much yesterday night. This sucked so much I couldn't even put it to words. I finally forced myself out of bed, dragging myself to the washroom to freshen up.
The Volturi family was great, though Jane and Alec both weren't exactly forthcoming when I first arrived. Mum and Dad were both loving and warm, and they tried very hard to make me feel at home. However, the siblings' thoughts weren't inclined to the same direction initially.
Jane seemed to think I would snatch away her parents' and Alec's attention away from her - it was such a absurd notion, really. I didn't have that power, but it didn't made that thought seem less amusing to me, even now. Alec was cold - at first, but when we started getting to know each other when he was forced to babysit me a few times here and there - we got along. At least, that was what I thought.
Alec's indulgent behavior and his careless methods of treating women wasn't exactly subtle; it grated my nerves when I knew of his acts, but girls still continued throwing themselves at him with every opportunity, and well - I couldn't blame them.
He was brilliant, attractive and rich - there didn't seem to be any flaws about him... well except that he drinks a lot but his stomach couldn't handle it and he had too much of a sweet tooth. He eats things that are so overbearingly sweet that even I, as a girl, can't handle.
Ha, shows so much masculinity about Alec - but of course, the girls didn't get to stay long enough to know about that. He barely threw them a second look the moment he was done.
I splashed the cold water on my face; that point was one I really detested.
And he is so annoyingly confident sometimes that I feel like throwing a punch in his face. And -
I wiped my mouth dry with the sleeve of my shirt and walked down the corridor to make breakfast, glancing at the clock as I passed the living room. Jesus, it was nine already - but the house was disturbingly silent. I spied a note on the table and picked it up.
Morning to whichever dear who woke up first,
please make yourself some pancakes for breakfast (If this is Bella)! Your dad and I are going to meet a business client and Jane is off for some movie with her friends.
Have a nice sibling bonding time!
P.S. For God's sake, if this is Alec, do not, I repeat, do not, attempt to blow up the kitchen with your non-existent cooking skills. Either go down and buy breakfast or wake Bella up, though I believe she needs more sleep...
From,
your fabulous mum
I laughed at her note - she was hilarious. Though Mum was a little self-obsessed sometimes. I gave a small chuckle again and left it on the table.
I flipped the pancake to the other side, waiting impatiently for it to be done. I hated waiting for my food to be done like this. I heard my stomach rumble and I patted my tummy with a small smile.
"Yeah, I get it buddy, I get it," I said to it, "I'm hungry too."
"You know, if people saw you talking like that to your tummy, they'd think you're pregnant," a low, husky voice with a tinge of amusement shocked me and I jerked back to see Alec ruffling his hair which was sticking out in all directions, making his way to the kitchen table.
He looked more adorable with his bed hair.
I felt blood rushing to my cheeks, a retort ready on my lips -
What makes you think I care about Bella?
It felt as if a bucket of cold water had splashed on me and I turned back, using the wooden spoon to poke on it, urging it to be done faster. After a moment, he seemed to realize I wasn't about to snap back like I usually do.
"Look," he sounded sobered up now, "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I wasn't in my right mind."
There it was again - he had a multiple personality disorder, I was almost certain.
I remained silent and landed the fifth pancake to the rest. I reached for the cabinet to get another plate, but he beat me to it. He handed me the plate, a serious expression on his face,
"Here."
I snatched it away from his grasp and caught a glimpse of his lips pursing with probably... annoyance? It made my irritation peaked as well; from his attitude yesterday he didn't have the right to be annoyed. I certainly don't owe him anything. I dropped three pancakes onto the plate he had passed to me with more strength that I needed to and searched the upper cupboards for some jam and honey syrup.
He set both plates on the table and didn't say anything. The silence was stifling, and I sighed, a little suffocated.
"I have a headache now and I would prefer not to argue," I said, a little edge in my voice as I avoided his gaze, setting strawberry jam and blueberry jam in front of his plate. It was a fact of some sort, though it was gone now.
He didn't say anything, and I left it at that, relief mixed with some disappointment.
What disappointment?
Well perhaps you wanted him to talk to you more?
I don't!
I ignored my inner ramblings, watching as he poured some of both on his pancakes and mixed them with his fork before digging in. I wrinkled my nose - I still couldn't fathom why anyone ate pancakes in such a weird fashion.
I poured some honey syrup on my pancakes, spreading it with my fork eagerly before cutting it and shoving it into my mouth. I relished in the food that was currently in my mouth. Oh God, the sweetness of the syrup combined with the softness and crunchiness of the pancakes by the edges was glorious. I closed my eyes, savoring the food in my own heaven.
"You look like you're having an orgasm."
It stopped me halfway and I glared at him, feeling blood rush to my cheeks - again - with an astonishing speed.
"You look like you've too many holes in your ass."
"You look like a tomato."
"You look like a porcupine."
He scowled, hand reaching up to his hair instinctively and stopped himself when I felt the corners of my lips curling to a smug grin.
"All the better to prick you with."
"You're already too much of a prick to begin with," I said carelessly, cutting another piece of pancake.
"Because you can't handle me, I imagine," he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips again, his smothering eyes catching mine when I looked up from my breakfast. I held his gaze for as long as I could, feeling a stirring of my gut, though not unpleasant as his lips stretched even wider,
"Am I too big of a prick, I wonder?"
I could even feel the hotness of my cheeks and I bit on my lip, refusing to back down from his heated gaze. My heart was thudding frantically in my chest and I tried desperately to remain calm.
"The big prick in you doesn't make up for your small anatomy."
He put his fork down beside his plate, his darkening eyes flashing with an unidentified emotion as he leaned even closer - thank god I wasn't sitting beside him because I already felt as if I'm going to combust from his heat -
"Are you sure you're clear on that point? From what I've heard, I'm pretty impressive on that particular aspect."
I gaped, shocked at his bluntness, though I was on the end of that for too many times. "Not interested to use easily purchased merchandise."
He pushed his chair back, and for a moment, I wondered with panic that I'd pushed him too far. That comment was utterly thoughtless and it was very hurtful, in my opinion. But his smirk didn't waver, instead he went to the counter and reached for the teapot.
"Two and a half sugar cubes, right?"
Yes.
Not many people put with half cubes, I guess, and Mum often complained about the absurdity of it and ended up just giving me two. But two and a half was my preferred sweetness; I'd in fact, experimented with sugar cubes in my tea before with Alec helping me to cut it to two to test how many I preferred. So Alec always made my tea with two and a half - though he always had some comment here and there. But it was a sweet gesture and means a lot to me; obviously, I wouldn't say it out loud.
I could feel the girl in me squealing.
It almost made me smile watching him cut the cube expertly into two before plopping one in and stirring it. He dropped the other half back into the container and capped it.
"You've such a weird quirk," he muttered.
I concentrated my gaze on the lonely pancake I've left, poking it with my fork. "Better than someone who has both strawberry and blueberry jam in their pancakes, I'd say."
I felt a presence from behind me and stiffened; he had moved faster than I'd imagined and caught me off-guard.
The refreshing scent of him - with even no cologne - was enticing. It smelled like woods after a thunderstorm and I took a deep breath as subtly as I could. His scent overpowered and washed over me simultaneously as he leaned even closer, one hand clasping on the back of my seat as the other reached over to set the mug on the table.
I held my breath as I felt his hair brush my cheek. "Perhaps I should try tomato next time, then."
Oh, Christ.
He was so close that his voice, though all but a murmur, seemed to echo loud in my head and I couldn't even manage a stutter as I held my breath. His lips were so dangerously close to the shell of my ear and then I felt him brush it just barely and suppressed a small sigh as he moved away. I felt myself taking another gulp of air.
"Fine there, Straw?" He drawled, and it was unmistakably smug as he went back to the counter to get his own mug. The clenching of my gut didn't dissipate as he set it down and continued on his last pancake.
I was fine with nicknames, really, but his was infuriating. He picked it up when I was still little and stumbled on him somehow... and yep, my panties was strawberry. He had laughed then and started calling me strawberry before shortening it to Straw.
Straw was a horrible, horrible nickname. I wrinkled my nose again. I really couldn't understand him.
"Shut up, ass with too many holes."
"I can't, panties with strawberry prints."
My cheeks flamed red. I was still embarrassed by that incident and it didn't help that he seemed to find it entertaining to dig it out daily to torment. "Aren't you supposed to apologise?"
He set his fork on the table, his plate empty. "I did, didn't I?"
I did the same. "Yes, but you probably aren't sincere."
His eyes seemed so dark and furious that it made my hair stand, but it certainly wasn't out of fear. "What do you want me to do then?" He gritted the words out.
"I don't need you to do anything!" I snapped back, his irritation getting to me, my hand gripping the edge of the table.
"You obviously want me to do something!" He yelled back, now standing as he bristled, eyes hard on mine.
I slammed my hands on the table; not going to be outdone. "What do you want me to say?"
He scowled. "I don't know, maybe that you're okay?"
I felt something threatening to burst out from within me. "Not everything can be made all right with words! You obviously don't care about what I think, so why does it matter if I don't accept your apology?" My voice was rising louder and louder as it reached the end of the sentence, and I wasn't about to do anything to stop it. I was far too angry to care.
He slammed his fist on the table. "What the fuck?" His volume matched mine, and his eyes flashed. "If I didn't care, why would I even apologise, you fucking idiot?!"
"How would I know? Because you're hard to understand as always?" I sneered and pushed myself away from the table and made to stomp back to my room. He caught my wrist and the tingles from the area he was holding on to spread throughout my body. I closed my eyes, struggling for more control.
"Let. Go."
I knew I could pull away if I want to - and he probably did, too. But I couldn't bring myself to tear away from his touch.
"Look, Straw, I'm sorry, okay?" His voice had dropped to a low whisper, and he actually sounded apologetic. I took a deep breath.
"I'm okay. I'm fine with what you said yesterday."
My stomach churned. I was not.
"It made you cry. I didn't mean it, I swear."
I turned, and I could tears gathering up in my eyes against my will, threatening to fall but I held them back. So fucking weak. Stupid Bella. "I didn't cry."
"You did," he said flatly, "and I'm truly sorry."
I pulled my hand out from his grasp and turned back to walk to my room. I wasn't about to break down in front of him. Why did he have to be so sincere? Why did the playful banter in the morning get twisted to this?
This time, he didn't stop me.
A/N: There's that.. the two are lovely to write, as always. Please do drop me a review to tell me your thoughts; I'd love to hear from you!
-WY
