Author's
Notes:
In
which the shit hits the fan for our Edward. Angst angst angst. And a
little bit of smut.
The characters and Twilight universe are
Stephenie Meyer's. I'm just having fun...
_________________________________________
There were no two ways about it, he was fucked.
Within two weeks of telling Bella that they couldn't see each other any more, Edward knew that he had made a terrible mistake. It had been ghastly from the very start, with Bella too distraught to drive herself home so that he'd been forced to enlist Alice's aid. Alice drove Bella's truck while Edward followed in the Volvo feeling like a complete monster to have hurt Bella so badly. But he was at a loss as to what else to do.
Chief Swan's police cruiser was parked at Bella's home and he was too much of a coward to hang about and risk getting arrested or shot so he circled the block intermittently, heart in mouth, until Alice emerged looking like thunder and got in, slamming the door with unnecessary force.
"You bastard Edward, you've really done a number on that poor girl."
"Alice, it's complicated. There are things you don't know. I had to break it off with Bella - we weren't good for each other. Honestly, it was for her own good."
"Even though you're my brother, Edward, you can be a self-righteous prick sometimes. Men."
"Her father was there…?"
"He's furious with you. Especially as he had no idea you and Bella were even seeing each other. And I think he suspects you were doing more than just "seeing" each other…"
"Shit."
"Oh, Bella's not saying anything but it's obvious to me that you've been fucking like rabbits. You didn't exactly keep the decibel level down at home today you know."
Edward blushed crimson. "Sorry…it was a bit of a whirlwind, we got carried away…"
"Then why this crap Edward? Why screw her then dump her? I wouldn't have pegged you for that sort of douchebag."
"I can't explain, it's too... you just wouldn't understand Alice. I don't really understand it myself. I just…we just…we couldn't go on like that, it was…too much." He trailed off miserably.
"So what - you get some feelings for her and that terrifies you so much you have to dump her? Jesus Edward, sort your fucking shit out."
And ever since then Alice had given him the silent treatment.
Was she right, Edward wondered, desperately chewing over the whole mess yet again as he lay in bed that night. He seemed unable to think about anything except Bella and the way their relationship had become too intense too quickly, and far too out of control. But was he pulling back from her because he was afraid to get close to anyone at all? Or was breaking it off really the only option to get some control back and avoid feeding her poetry addiction? His head hurt and he almost wanted just to switch it all off and return to his safe, ordered pre-Bella existence. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. He couldn't focus on his usual interests with the Edward-and-Bella saga completely preoccupying his every waking moment. He was too restless and hyped up to read or to play music, and school was going to be a complete nightmare.
_________________________________________
In fact it was worse than he had envisaged.
He was exhausted, having snatched only an hour or two of restless sleep as dawn was breaking. He'd gotten so desperate, tossing and turning through the night, that he'd resorted to beating off again, trying to wear himself out. But it only seemed to make him more confused. He tried to imagine fucking someone else, not Bella, as he touched himself. Previously he'd been quite taken by Avril Lavigne so he tried to picture himself sucking Avril's breasts as she rode him, moaning his name lasciviously, but whenever he looked up from her nipples Avril's face morphed into Bella's, and as he came, he sobbed out Bella's name. The second time he rolled out the big guns, picturing Brett Anderson lead vocalist of The Donnas between his knees, her head bobbing as she deep-throated him. But as he reached down and twined his hands in her hair, the eyes that looked up at him over his cock were Bella's chocolate ones again. He gave up after that and just wallowed helplessly in Bella memories.
Pale and with bruised violet shadows underneath his eyes, he skulked around school avoiding Bella and her friends, and his own family. His brothers were baffled by his sudden change of heart towards Bella, Alice obviously having given them her version, and while not as judgemental as Alice they clearly thought he was an idiot. Rosalie was her usual bitchy self, so no change there.
He couldn't avoid catching glimpses of Bella though and she seemed almost dazed, staring silently at her uneaten food as she sat with her friends at a lunch table across the room from where he sat with his siblings, trying not to steal glances at her.
And then there was Biology. Before class started she turned to look at him, and whispered "Edward?...please?" in a strained voice.
His heart clenched and he had to bite his cheek and focus on the pain to avoid answering her. He sat with his arms folded tightly across his chest, refusing to look at her as Mr Banner droned on about the Krebs cycle or some such shit. Her long brown hair was loose and it hung as a curtain between them, some protection for her perhaps, but he was wracked by the urge to brush it gently back and kiss the hollow underneath her ear. Edward clenched his teeth and held himself in rigid control, then bolted from the room as soon as class ended, running to the Volvo to hide.
It got no better across the next few days even though she didn't try to speak to him again and seemed to be avoiding him as well. But she filled his thoughts and dreams no matter how hard he tried to ignore her during the day and to call up other sirens to fill his fantasies at night. Nothing worked.
Subversive thoughts began to creep in by the weekend - thoughts about how he could somehow still manage to be with her without it getting out of control again.
The dosage effect was worth exploring. Other peoples' poems affected her only slightly, but when she read his poetry to herself it turned her on much more strongly. And when he read her his poems she completely lost it. Hmmm. Perhaps if he read her other peoples' poems it might be manageable and still give her the fix she seemed to need? He would have to stop writing poems so that there was no risk of her being tempted. It was a huge sacrifice for an artist to make, but necessary at present until they somehow learned to manage the poetry problem. Maybe he could wean her off the addiction using other people's poems? Desensitise her, so that his poems no longer had the same effect? It was a small ray of hope and definitely worth a try.
But he needed a back-up plan in case her reaction was still unmanageable. His T-shirt collection had taken a beating and it was clearly an amateurish approach to restraint. Edward fired up his laptop and began to search. Some of the sites were a real eye-opener. Jesus, did people really wear these weird outfits - leather hoods completely covering their heads looking like something out of Silence of the Lambs, or those rubber suits with the ass cut out for spanking? And then there were penis prisons made of black latex. They were far too disturbing and he flicked to another site. He pored over images of full-body leather dominatrix suits and imagined Bella spanking him while wearing one. God that was hot, and he so deserved to be punished, he'd behaved like an absolute shit to her. His hand slid down inside his boxers to extract his cock as he closed his eyes and imagined Bella in black leather forcing him down on his hands and knees, naked and humiliated as she whipped his ass with a riding crop. It took a while to clean all the spunk off the underside of his computer desk after that one. Amazing how far the damn stuff could fly when he was really getting carried away.
After another few research sessions, always culminating in an explosive finale with images of Bella telling him what a bad boy he'd been and making him lick her boots and other parts of her body, he finally decided what to purchase. Nothing too over the top, but a package called "Our First Bondage Kit" seemed adequate. Four soft velcro cuffs with long straps attached, and a blindfold. Not that they needed the blindfold really, but it came included. And it might be interesting to try it some time…just as an experiment. He threw in a good supply of condoms and sent the order off into cyberspace.
In bed on Sunday night he reviewed his plans. Trying to break up with Bella had been a complete failure, and had needlessly hurt them both. He would put it right tomorrow and apologise abjectly. And this time he would definitely cool it and avoid leaping on her the moment they were alone. He would need to win her trust again after his foolish over-reaction. But he was determined to put this mess right - he had to, he couldn't go on like this, longing for her and obsessed, and hating himself.
_________________________________________
He started in class on Monday morning by texting her a profuse apology, begging her to meet him at lunchtime in his car so they could talk. There was no reply, but he waited in the car anyway - at first hopefully, then with growing unease, finally going to the lunchroom after half an hour had passed with no sign of Bella. She was not there, although her truck was in the car park. Perhaps the text had not got through to her? He would see her in Biology.
She was in class, not looking at him and keeping her hair as a shield between them. He tried to start a conversation but had little time before Mr Banner began his lecture.
"Bella?" A soft whisper close to the shiny curtain of hair.
She leaned back from him, turning away slightly. Not good.
"Bella, I'm so sorry. I've been a fool, please forgive me."
"Perhaps we could have your attention Mr Cullen, or are you too busy to join us in class today?" Mr Banner was sarcastic.
Edward subsided, worrying about her reaction. Of course she was upset, that was only natural. He would win her around. But he felt a small stirring of panic.
The panic increased across the week as he continued to try to talk with her and got nowhere. Bella avoided him, refusing to look at him or reply to the increasingly desperate attempts he made to apologise and win her over. He deluged her with texts begging her to take him back and forgive him. Still the cold shoulder.
His mail-order B&D kit arrived in discrete packaging but he couldn't bring himself to open the parcel, just stashing it in his wardrobe. What was the point if Bella had rejected him?
Finally he went to Alice.
"I know you think I'm a complete fuckhead Alice and that makes two of us. I was an idiot. Please help me with Bella, please. I'm going insane here. I need to speak with her, I can't live without her."
She eyed him disgustedly. "You hurt her badly Edward. She's probably still furious, and afraid you'll do it again. Which you might, given what a douche you've been. Why should anyone believe you've changed?"
"I love her Alice. I was a fool to think we should break up, no matter what the problems were. Please Alice, I'm dying here."
Alice frowned, but seemed to decide to take pity on him. "OK, I'll talk to her and tell her how you feel. But that's all. Just don't fuck up like this again."
He waited anxiously for Alice to report back. When she did, the news wasn't good.
"She's too upset Edward and she doesn't trust you any more. You really hurt her and she can't cope with you harassing her. She'll change her mobile number if you don't stop texting her all the time. You need to back off. Maybe she'll come round in time, but give her some space."
Space. It sounded cold and icy. A vacuum. He crawled off to huddle on his bed in a foetal lump, trying to block out the pain.
_________________________________________
The next week passed in a blur. He stopped trying to text or talk with Bella, but still tried to make eye contact to show her how he was feeling. Unsuccessfully - she refused to look at him. Biology was a tantalising agony - his only chance to sit close to her, but still no contact. He leaned as close as he could and inhaled the scent of her hair - flowers and fruit - torturing himself. On Friday he dragged himself home after school to face another empty weekend with no Bella contact at all, not even the sight of her avoiding him.
By Saturday evening he was almost crazy with the restless need to see her. He drove to her street and circled the block a couple of times then parked some distance away and crept back to lurk at the base of a big tree under her window. The light was on in her room upstairs and he stared at the window, willing her to show herself. Finally she came to the glass and looked out briefly then twitched the curtain across the frame.
No! - he had to see more of her. He couldn't stand this any longer. He clambered clumsily up the tree, never having been one for such outdoor pursuits in his childhood. Lodging himself in the branches just above her window he thumbed his phone in agony, knowing it was wrong, hating himself for giving way.
Bella
I'm right outside your home
Come to the window, please my love
I
miss you so, I'm in such pain
Please let me see you, show
yourself
He sent it off and waited anxiously, trembling as he clung to the tree trunk.
After a few minutes the curtain opened and she was there, eyes wide, breathing rapidly and shaking her head angrily. She slid the window open a little and leaned out, gripping the sill with white knuckles.
"Fuck off Edward, don't do this to me you bastard." There were tears in her eyes but he was beyond reason.
"Please Bella, I have to see you, I have to talk to you. If this is the only way…"
"Why should I put myself through that again? Why should I trust you?"
"Give me a chance, just one more chance. I swear I'll never hurt you again Bella, I swear."
She was turning away again now - no! - he couldn't allow that, he couldn't bear it. In sheer desperation he began to sing his favourite Divinyls number. The video was a long-time wanking companion so he knew the song by heart.
"I
close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you
were to ignore me
A fool could see
Just how much I adore you
I
get down on my knees
I'd do anything for you"
Bella's eyes closed and she shivered. He continued the chorus, his voice rougher now, softer, watching her breathing become ragged, her nipples erect now under the thin T-shirt she had put on for bed.
"I
don't want anybody else
When I think about you
I touch myself
I
don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no…"
Bella's hand slid down into her cotton pants and between her legs. He repeated the chorus again and again, undoing his jeans, taking his cock out and pumping himself hard as he watched her writhe on her fingers in the window before him, responding to his increasingly husky voice singing the lyrics. Her eyes were shut, her head fallen back helplessly as she touched herself, arching her hips, panting now, then opening her eyes and staring at him, hot and frantic, moaning fuck Edward…oh fuck…oh yes…oh I'm, oh fuck I'm…ohhh! as she came. She half collapsed against the sill, her forehead pressed to the cool glass of the window, shuddering.
Edward's cock was about to explode. To see her come for him after so long a drought, so long away from her taste, her hot mouth, her soft body. He completely lost it, both hands on his cock now, spunk flying out into the night and his body shaking with the force of his orgasm as he sobbed her name.
Then he was falling, bouncing off half-grasped branches, grazing his hands, thudding into the grass on his back with the breath slammed out of him, dazed. If he were a cartoon character he'd have those little stars and birdies orbiting tightly around his head, his pupils spiralling.
As he lay there, winded and unable to move, a vehicle pulled up. He heard Bella's window slide rapidly to and the curtain swished shut, then an angry voice was shouting and Chief Swan's livid face was bending over him, accusing, demanding explanations. Edward lay there helpless, breathless, jeans undone, cock probably hanging out for all he knew, below the Chief's daughter's window. In a dim recess of his spinning mind he knew that this was very bad indeed. He was dead meat. He was cluster fucked.
_________________________________________
The serious talks with Carlisle and Esme were the worst part. As a son of the town's doctor he hadn't been arrested in the end, and Bella apparently didn't rat him out and tell her father what he'd been doing. The unzipped jeans made that pretty obvious however, but in the end Carlisle persuaded Charlie that he was a disturbed adolescent rather than a dangerous criminal and no charges were laid.
But there was worse to come. Carlisle was furious and baffled and searched his room, discovering and opening the mail-order package from "Bondage Unlimited". There was just no real way to explain it to anyone else - even Edward himself was stumped for an explanation at this point, excruciatingly humiliated as he was. He resorted to teenage incoherence and vague mutterings about Bella and the poetry problem, all of which just made Carlisle and Esme even more angry and worried.
Carlisle got him alone and had a heart to heart chat about his sexual orientation and the bondage gear. Edward writhed in abject embarrassment. Fuck off and die, Carlisle. No, he wasn't gay, no that wasn't why he'd never had a girlfriend until Bella. No that wasn't why he seemed to have moved rapidly from boyfriend to fetishistic stalker and exhibitionist in a matter of weeks. He had no sensible explanations so he just kept repeating the denials.
Of course Carlisle insisted he see a shrink. Carlisle knew someone who knew someone and a therapist was arranged in Port Angeles. Weekly sessions. And there were endless rules. He was grounded apart from school and therapy. He was not to go anywhere near Bella in or out of school, or call her. Carlisle had his Biology switched so they shared no classes. He was a Bella-free zone.
_________________________________________
End
Notes:
Arrrgh
- first the smut takes over, and now it's the angst. When will we
have more comedy? Next chapter, surely - therapy's always a blast.
And how will Edward get out of the hole he's dug for himself? More
soon...
