Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the characters. Thanks a million to my beta, CrystalRaindrop!
A Child of the Night — Chapter Three
Previously ...
( Edward POV )
"What is your name? Please tell me," I begged, for I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, or concentrate, until I had a name to fit with the beautiful face I knew would never fade from my mind.
"Bella," she finally whispered, and I smiled again.
"Bella," I repeated softly.
Bella. It was Italian. It meant beautiful. It fit so well.
And no more words were needed. So I turned, and I ran. I ran and I ran, not caring where I was going. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Because the only thing that mattered now was her.
Bella.
February 2nd, Saturday - 9:46 PM - 2008— Bella POV
"What is your name? Please tell me," he pleaded, and I couldn't have stopped my answer even if I had wanted to.
"Bella," I softly whispered, and he smiled.
"Bella," he repeated, his voice thoughtful as he spoke. He said nothing after that. And then I heard his footsteps, walking so slowly away from me, and an unexplainable emptiness filled me.
When he'd whispered my name, my heart had beat so fast, so hard, so strong. I had never felt more alive than I did in that moment. And though I had never felt the sun on my skin, I felt the warmth that everyone described. My whole body felt like it was on fire.
I smiled sadly, and I wished that he didn't have to leave. For in those few moments, I had felt so free. Free of the disease that plagued me. Free of the worries that shadowed me every moment of every day. Free of the weight of responsibility that sat on my shoulders every second of forever.
But my heart raced as I remembered his words.
"Can I see you again soon?"
Could he, too, have possibility felt the ... the unexplainable energy, the attraction, that flowed between us? Could he have felt as complete, in that moment, as I did? As whole? As free?
I shook my head.
No, he couldn't have. I was being stupid. I hadn't been able to see him, that much was true, but from his voice, and his words, I knew this much: He was kind, and gentle, and so painfully beautiful that he was probably relieved I was blind — because he was far too kind to make me watch as he walked away from me and didn't come back.
"Bella."
But the way he had whispered my name, so full of emotion ...
I shook my head, and choked back tears as I began to walk the familiar, worn path that led back home. It was long, and rough, but I had long ago memorized each and every root, and stump, and hole, that the road offered. I moved around them, letting my fingers dance across the trees that lined the outside of my path and guided me along my way.
But tonight, I stumbled and fell so much, for I couldn't concentrate for even a second. I couldn't hear, or feel, anything but him. I couldn't hear anything but his voice, echoing in my mind.
I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn't want so badly to be his friend, because what kind of friend could I be? I lived in darkness, terrified of the sunlight that warmed his skin.
As I stumbled through the front door of my house, thankful for the first time that my father had fallen asleep while waiting for me to come home, I cried softly.
And I silently vowed that I wouldn't go back, that I wouldn't see him again.
Because he didn't know the truth, and when he found out, I was sure he would run from me, like so many others had. Like my mother had. I was sure he, too, would break my heart when his words, though I couldn't see his expression, carried all the feelings that everyone always believed they could hide simply because I couldn't see.
But what they didn't realize was that, though I was blind, they were the ones that couldn't see.
Because they couldn't see the pain that shattered my heart, again and again, every time I overheard their carefully whispered words.
"So different."
"Weird."
"Freak."
Closing the door behind me, I collapsed against it and took a deep, shuddering breath in as I tried not to cry. My mind was filled with visions of the boy I'd met only minutes before.
Edward.
I wished more than anything that he could be my rock, the one person that would understand me. He had accepted my blindness so easily — he was the only one who had accepted it so easily — so why wouldn't he accept all of me? But I was so afraid of rejection, so hardened against the world, that I wasn't even willing to give him a chance.
I'm sorry, Edward.
February 3rd, Sunday - 9:20 AM— Edward POV
"Where were you last night?"
I cringed. It was my father's voice, right behind me. I tried to pretend that I didn't hear him. I reached over and turned my music up, but within seconds, he had gently reached over and taken the earphones from my ears. I refused to look him in the eye.
"Edward …"
"Dad, I don't want to talk about it, OK?" I growled, and I grabbed the earphones back from him before shoving them back over my ears and turning up the volume as loud as it would go.
I didn't want to talk about anything, least of all my college choices. I simply wanted to sit here, and remember her face. I wanted to see her smile in my mind, and feel her soft skin under my fingertips. For I knew that, if she left my mind, and my thoughts, the slowly spreading feeling of emptiness would take over me.
But then my music shut off altogether, and I glared up at my father, who's hand was hovering over the on/off switch of my CD player. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't look mad, either. He simply looked tired, and worn, and I suddenly wondered how much sleep he'd gotten the night before, and felt bad that I had been the cause of his worry.
"What?" I grumbled quietly, resigned but not happy.
"Where were you last night?"
I didn't answer.
"Edward," he sighed. "I'm not mad. And I don't want to argue. I just … want to talk to you."
"About what?"
I was still suspicious, but I allowed my father to sit down on the bed beside me. He clasped his hands together, and I sighed, biting my lip and leaning back on the headboard behind me.
"You've been drifting away from us," he said, and his voice was pained. "Even Alice, and you two used to be so close. Edward, what am I doing wrong? Is this my fault? Have I been pushing you too hard? What is it?"
I frowned, and I wished more that my father wasn't feeling the way he was. But what could I say to him? Why, yes, Dad, you're exactly the reason I'm drifting away. You are pushing me too hard. This is your fault … But I couldn't say that. I knew I couldn't, because if he was in pain now, my words would only make it so much worse.
"Please be honest with me," he said, and as I looked into his eyes then, I realized that he'd never spoken to me this way. Before, he'd always been in control. Right now, he was letting out into the open everything he was feeling, everything he was, and he was searching for an honest answer.
"I don't want to be a doctor, dad," I mumbled, and I dropped my eyes from his. "I want to study music."
I knew that, if was anything else, he wouldn't have answered as he did.
"Edward, I … can't … let that go. I'm not willing to stand by and watch as you throw your life away."
"I'm not throwing my life away," I grumbled. "Dad, I'm eighteen. I can choose for myself what I want to do, and you can't change my mind or force me. I'm going to study music. It's what I want, and I'm not going to change my mind."
Silence fell and expanded, and soon it became very uncomfortable. I was about to turn back to my music when he sighed and stood up.
"Fine," he said, and he turned his back to me. "I won't push you. For now. But please do me one favor."
I looked up, wary.
"If you're going to stay out late tonight, let me know. You worried your mother horribly last night."
And me, too, I knew he wanted to say, but he didn't, and I was thankful for that. I nodded, and smiled the smallest bit. And as he walked out of the room, I whispered two words that meant so many things at once.
"I will."
I will be out tonight, I added silently. Because there's no way that I can stay away from her.
7:33 PM— Bella POV
"Aren't you excited to get outside?" my father asked, and though I couldn't see his face, I could almost feel his confusion. I smiled sadly, and nodded. I was always excited to go outside. But tonight was different.
Because tonight I wasn't going to be able to see him.
"Yeah," I said, and I clasped my hands together as I willed the sun to move slower. I couldn't not go outside. Because if my lack of enthusiasm alerted my father that something was wrong, my unwillingness to leave the house after sunset most definitely would. "I'm excited," I lied, and I wished that I could just hide all night.
Because I knew that, if I left the house, I wouldn't be able to fight the part of me that warned me to stay away from the boy who, in one night, had captured my interest, but not yet my heart.
For though I'd only heard his voice once, though I'd only touched his skin for such a brief time, he was so different. He accepted my blindness without a negative word about it. He was so kind, so gentle.
I sighed, and stood from my seat at the table. I placed my dishes carefully in the sink, keeping my hand under them until my soft skin hit the cold, hard porcelain.
"I'm going out, Dad. I might be back late," I murmured. "Don't wait up for me."
"Is it dark enough yet?" he asked, and I was sure he glanced out the window to see that dark had, indeed, fallen — it was too late in the day for it not to have.
"Love ya, Dad."
I kissed his cheek, and after pulling on my shoes, I reached for the doorknob. I took the familiar path down the sidewalk, and into the woods. Maybe just … for a moment. From the distance. I just wanted to hear his voice. That would be enough. Even if I could never see his face, hearing his soft voice would be enough.
I broke into a clumsy run, stumbling and falling.
Just for a moment, I promised myself, but I didn't realize then how hard it would be to leave the second he called out for me. Just for a moment.
8:01 PM— Edward POV
The moment I finished dinner and my dishes were in the sink, I quickly slipped out the door, silently closing it behind me.
And then I ran.
I ran faster than ever before, eager to reach the small clearing that I had stumbled upon last night. And as I passed the first tree bearing the small, cross shaped mark, I was thankful that I had thought to leave a trail on my way home last night, for I knew I would never be able to find her again if I couldn't find my way back to the clearing.
I smiled.
It was like the bread crumb trail that every child heard about in the stories of Hansel and Gretel. It would lead me where I wanted to go. Where I had to go.
It would lead me to Bella.
I wanted to see her again, to hear her soft voice, to touch her.
And then I stumbled into the clearing, past the final thicket of trees that blocked my path, and I gasped for breath as I looked around.
And as I looked around, my heart sank, and the emptiness inside of me deepened and changed in a way I didn't understand or recognize.
She wasn't there. She had promised, yet she hadn't come. I wondered briefly if something was wrong, and then I realized the more probable reason.
She didn't care for me as I cared for her. She didn't want to be my friend, and she didn't yearn — as I did — to know more. To learn more, to hear more, to understand more, to feel more.
I clenched my fists tightly against the disappointment that flooded me then, and tried to convince myself that I was being stupid. I'd talked to her for all of a few minutes, yet the disappointment that she wasn't here pierced me deeper than the loss of friends I'd known for years.
It was stupid. But it was so real.
"Bella?" I breathed, clinging onto the hope that she was here and was simply waiting for me to make the first move. "Bella, are you ... are you there?"
But I didn't receive an answer.
I turned around, clenching my fists tighter, and I began to walk away, desperate not to let the disappointment take over me.
And then I heard her voice, so soft, so quiet, and so full of emotion.
"Edward."
And the hole that had slowly been expanding in my heart since I'd left her the night before was suddenly gone. Not healed, not simply bound together, but as if it had never been there in the first place.
I smiled, and I closed my eyes as I turned around.
"Bella," I breathed, and my vision was suddenly filled with her beauty.
So ... yeah. Hate it? Like it? OH! And some people have asked this question: "Vampires? Plz k thx." And I am here to assure that this is ALL HUMAN.
NOTE: I have up to chapter 8 written right now. So I'll re-state my deal from Never Too Late: I will always update every other day, if at all possible. That aside, you can have your update a day early ( Tomorrow! ) if you beat the previous chapters review count. Also, I know things seem very intense right now, but stick with me!
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NEXT CHAPTER:
"Then I'll close my eyes. I want to see as you see. I want to memorize you through touch and sight. Let me, for one moment, feel what you feel. Let me learn as you learn. Let me touch you."
MAKE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE EXTENDED SNEAK PREVIEW IN THE "MY FORUMS" SECTION OF MY HOMEPAGE!