Thanks for the reviews. And to answer your question shakespeares rose, I don't know how they would deal with the cake issue. I honestly didn't give much thought about it. Though the food thing comes up again, and I will try and deal with that as it arises.
Let me check...yep. Still own nothing.
Chapter Four – C is for Candlelight
"Can I open my eyes yet?" I called out, impatient like a child. Edward had one arm covering my closed eyes, and one wrapped around my waist as he led me somewhere. Somewhere I had no idea about.
Edward merely chuckled. "You can open your eyes. You just won't see anything."
If I wasn't so infuriated with him, I would have laughed. He knew how much I despised surprises, yet he was insisting that I walk into this blind. Each step felt more and more like I was walking towards an ambush.
I felt his lips along my earlobe, and even his gentle whispering startled me. "Alright, love. You can open your eyes."
The pressure of his hand rescinded, and I forced myself to open my eyes slowly. Night had fallen on the Cullen's backyard, yet the muted flame of several candles stood out like fireflies. I turned to Edward, and there was enough light to see him smiling at me.
"So this is my punishment for throwing you a party?" I questioned him, recalling last night's conversation. "A candlelight dinner?"
He nodded, courteously leading me towards the table. Soft jazz music was playing in the background. Edward pulled out my chair for me; he truly was a gentleman. I examined the spread closer, noticing the delicious plate of pasta in the center. My mouth watered at the smell. He must have noticed both my hunger and my impatience. He chuckled to himself as he served me the luscious food.
And to my complete and utter amazement, Edward nonchalantly placed some of the dish on his own plate, and twirled some around his fork. Each bite he took was with an expressionless sense of heroics.
"I thought you said eating food was like eating dirt." I said suspiciously.
"I did, and it is." He said, grimacing slightly. His heroics were failing. "But I promised. The entire human experience."
"You never promised to eat dirt for me."
"Bella, I would walk to the ends of the world for you." He smiled, flecks of fire reflecting gently in his smile. "A plate of pasta is manageable."
"You are either crazy or completely devoted." I shook my head, resuming my dinner.
"I sincerely hope it's the second." He beamed, putting his fork down. He was flawlessly beautiful, even in the dark.
"You've really thought these things through, haven't you?" I asked bewildered by his thoroughness. "The concert, candlelight dinners..."
"This is more than just appeasing my guilt, Bella." He murmured. "Without you, my life is darkness. Without sounding too clichéd, you are like a candle to me, lighting my way." He looked down, as if he was embarrassed to be so attractive. "Your happiness means everything to me."
"You don't have to worry." I brushed his hand, leaning in towards him. "Whenever I'm around you, I am more than happy."
We sat in the silence, barely moving. His soft hands caressed my face like a gentle wind, causing my heart rate to skyrocket. The air in my lungs evaporated, and if I hadn't been sitting, passing out would be inevitable.
His hands rescinded, noting my dizziness. "So, tell me. How is the food? Because I'm not really used to preparing food for humans."
"It's amazing." I muttered, twirling my fork around in it, trying to distract myself. I really wanted him to kiss me right now. "Just like you."
"Despite how cheesy you sound right now, I love you." He hummed, normal words sounding like music the way he spoke them. The metal fork clanged loudly as he set it down on his plate. The table trembled as he stood and walked around it. I felt his arms wrap around me, and his face lingered centimeters away from mine. "Is it alright if I kiss you?"
"Always the gentlemen." I mumbled, finding it difficult to speak with his saccharine breath caressing my face like this. His lips were cold and hard as they pressed on mine—a feeling that I had grown accustomed to. Each of his motions were well-planned and vigilant. His hands twisted up in my hair, and my hands ran along his stony chest.
I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything in the world.
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