"I come here to think"
My arms were crossed and supporting the back of my head as I gazed up the stars, the moon illuminating the meadow I was currently in, quite nicely. My voice came of in a clear whisper, I didn't want to disturb the calm I was feeling. The ground was soft as I felt the mildly wet flowers I was crushing push against my body. It took him some time to reply. I dragged a piece of stray hair that wasn't concealed inside my hood, twirled it, and continued to stare at the sky not really seeing anything.
"About?" his voice rang clear.
I propped my body up on my elbows and for a coupled of minutes studied his face. He was sitting on the ground hugging his knees, head on top, the pressure of his head against his knees giving him an involuntary pout. Is it a little weird that I am looking at his lips long enough to notice? I ignored that voice and continued to examine. He hadn't changed clothes it seemed, the whole of his jeans revealed more prominent skin as his knees pushed it out. The skin there was a bit scared but otherwise smooth. I saved his eyes for last. He met my gaze evenly.
His eyes held emotions that I could identify with, a troubled and a secretive look. Guarded. There was also the slight curiosity; it was as like staring at a mirror image of my emotions. Except his were a deep staggering green, my eyes were unimpressive, except for the slight gray film that sometimes surrounded it, if you looked close enough. He was in no position to do that. We were strangers.
"How did you hurt you knee?" I motioned towards his left leg. My arms were beginning to fall sleep so I eased myself down again. My left leg brushed his right by accident and an electric shock sparked again. I stared at the spot while he stared at me.
"You avoided the question" no shit. His quiet voice had a slight calming affect and I closed my eyes. We had been shocked twice now, I was not going to bring it up and it seemed like neither was he. I didn't really need to know about his knee injury.
"What was the verdict at the hospital?" That was a bit more important. He sighed.
"You aren't going to answer are you?" his voice stated what I already knew.
"No" might as well clear that up. He let the subject drop. I heard the faint chirp of insects in the night. Strangely enough, this wasn't awkward like I expected it to be. He seemed content enough to just be. I was lost in thought when his voice broke me out of my current trance.
"How about I make you a deal?" His voice startled me.
"I don't play twenty questions" My eyes were closed and my tone was less than friendly. I could feel his eyes on my face. I had an idea what the deal would entail. "I ask you a question; you get to ask one in return." Such childish bullshit. He ignored my comment with a small snort.
"You answer my questions and I'll bring you anything you want," close enough.
"Why do you want to know about me so much?" It was unnerving, this guy wanted to know me. ME.
"You intrigue me" His answer was simple. I creased my eyebrows. I lifted my head and looked at him, studying him. Was this guy serious? I was reminded of Mormon boy, with one exception; this guy wanted something in return, something greater than the sound of my voice. The risk was almost too much. I laid back down, the tension in my forehead wasn't gone.
"What about my questions?" I opened my eyes and saw shock cover his gaze but his face was completely composed. We held a staring contest; my chin lifted a bit. I felt mild guilt creep up, he doesn't want to talk about his problems and as a fellow fucked up person I should recognize that. Too bad that I don't care, and from the look in his eyes it doesn't seem like he does either.
"I'll answer them" his voice defeated and a bit hesitant.
"All?" I was equally intrigued by this guy.
"Alright, one exception though, it starts off lightly" he conceded. Ah so he knew I would ask about the bridge incident.
"Nothing rough? Not at first at least?" I clarified. I needed to know the rules for his deal. No way in fucking hell was I letting him find a loophole.
"Keep it trivial. We are only allowed to talk about our shit when the other person brings it up" I smirked a little. I was rubbing off on him, this was the first time I'd heard him curse. I'd covered everything I could think of. With my arm extended out to him I spoke.
"Deal"
"Deal"
___
It's been two nights and no show. I went out on a limb and trusted him, shitty luck I have with people. It's strange that I am not surprised, he was nothing but a stranger and our encounter was coincidental, I don't even know his name. My gaze shifts towards the darkness behind my eyes.
The girl is walking into the forest… her stomach is growling. She starts salivating at the thought of food, an apple, a piece of bread, cheese, milk… Something! Anything! At least the monstrosity of the need for drugs has calmed down a bit, but it's always there. Always. The woods have become her home now, its better than the hard concrete she was once used to. The forest isn't all things warm though. It can get pretty fucking cold, if she does say so herself. She's gotten a job at the local pizza place but they won't pay until they "evaluate" her. When in hell did pizza places require a resume? Not once, from what she can remember. She can't trust the berries and plants here, she knows squat about botany. Anything could be poisonous. Her stomach growls again. She tells it to shut up.
Deciding that she's gone far enough, her steps slow down a bit and she settles on the slightly piney ground. They push into her skin and she thinks briefly of her mothers acupuncture period. The ghost of a smile crosses her features. Her mother…. its been so long…. No! no time for that now. She twists and turns until she finds a relatively comfortable position. She ends up in a slight fetal position. Knees tucked (close to her chest), arms under head. Her eyed drift to a close and she dozes off.
When she awakes once again, its to the sound of slight movement. Rustling. She freezes and mentally thinks about how to push a guys nose into his brain. Or how to run away from an animal. She hopes it's a person. Then at least she knows she has a chance at survival. From what she's seen, Forks Washington doesn't hold weak game. Slowly, as to not disturb the person/thing she gets up slowly. On her knees. The movement stops. She halts her movements. Her knees are crying out for her to move. Too concentrated on listening to any sounds she misses the touch of a hand circling her arm until the person attached to that limb slightly squeezes. She screams, kicks, hears a grunt and takes off running. Her breathing low and shallow.
She has no idea where she is going and this makes her slightly panic before she hears a voice call out. Male. Why the freak did it have to be a man? She pushes her legs faster and sees a break in the woods. Her body is flooded with relief and her footsteps stager a little. She idly wonders why she doesn't hear any cars or sees the road.
She soon finds out why.
This isn't the edge of the woods as she had predicted. It's a freaking meadow.
Just her fucking luck.
Light traitor tears escape her eyes and she grows immensely livid. Why now? She knows she's sinned, yes but why end it this way? Why not some tropical disease that can kill her slowly? Why death by possible rape? Tears stream down, she's running across the meadow now and feels as exposed as ever. The moon shines down too much, too much open space…
"Wait!" That voice… her steps falter once again but she doesn't stop running until she reaches the end of the meadow. Then and only then does she slowly turn around. In all his shining and sweating glory is suicide boy. She guesses that he can see the silhouette of her body and that's why he has stopped. Is her mind playing tricks on her? She looks harder and when she sees him move she yells out.
"Stop!" he follows her order to the sentence. He knows who she is, or at least recognizes her. She realizes this. Her steps are cautious and a bit uneven, there is a slight tremor coursing through her legs. Her last final step uncovers her and they stare at each other for what seems to be hours, examining, studying. She is once again calm.
"Suicide boy?" the nickname slips and she regrets to see his face minimally fall. It had been a face of hope and …. Joy? She can't tell.
"You are real" he breathes out. She stares at him in confusingly, there is tension in her forehead.
"What?" she asks him, well yells specifically. The meadow is wide and maybe a good twenty feet in diameter. The girl and the boy don't realize it but they are stepping closer to each other. She is laying down on the grass now. He's safe enough she decided, he sits down close to her.
"What do you do here?"
And so the questions begin…
"Are you asleep?" he startles me with a small poke in the arm
"Officially, yes" My voice is gruff, I haven't spoken in days.
"Rumor has it you pretend"
"Yes so I read in Vogue, pure gossip I tell you"
"Now let me sleep." I turn onto my side and something slides over me. It's warm.
"Blanket?" I venture a guess, while enclosing my self around the cozy material.
"Yeah"
"Thanks" I yawn, already dozing off to the familiar tune.
"Well I could sleep forever"
I wake up sometime later… someone… someone is…singing? No, no it's humming, yes that's it.
"Hey" my voice is low and scratchy. How late is it? I am resting on my elbows. Squinting.
"Hey!" This time louder. My eyes are open and I look up at the sky, the moons still out, must be around midnight. I haven't slept like that in a while. I try again. No luck. With a huff, I get up and immediately miss the warmth of the blanket. The wind is biting.
"Hey!!" This time I emphasize my yell, I shove him a bit. He startles, his eyes are wide and I smile. Sheepishly I apologize. He grins and removes his headphones. The music is blaring from its spot on the ground. I fantasize that the headphones are shaking.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" My eyes grow wide and I fight back the growl that threatens to escape my mouth. What the fuck is wrong with me? I see his grin disappear. My apologies become more pronounced and hurried.
"Clearly I have poor word choice. Forgive me?"
"On one condition" I raise an eyebrow. He grins.
"Don't call me suicide boy. Ever." I can't help it, I laugh. My hood falls back and I hurry to place it over myself, its freaking cold out here.
"All right…" My sentence is left hanging in the air, I still haven't learned his name.
"Edward" he supplies.
"Edward" The name rolls off my tongue comfortably. He eyes me. His look is expectant. Oh.
"Bella, the names Bella," my voice is explanatory.
"Alright Bella… ready to begin?"This guy does not beat around the bush. I sit down cross-legged, back straight, shoulders back.
"Ready" There is a stir in his eyes. He mirrors my position.
Let the games begin.
__
"Favorite color?" It's my turn.
"Violet"
"You?"
"Black"
"Nice choice" I nod.
"Next song" I bob my head to the beat of the steady guitar.
"Never pegged you for a Kingsmen fan there Edward" We are leaning close together, the length of his headphones forcing us to. Our heads almost touching, I believe I am the only one to take notice of this.
"This solo is Epic" He agrees with a smile.
"Can anyone ever really understand what he is saying?" All I hear is a "Loui Loui" and that's about it.
"Nope" The answer is direct and no further explanation is extended. We remain quiet until the song comes to an end. We've made a compromise, him and I. He gets to ask a question for every song that I find interesting and don't know. There were no more offers for today besides the blankets and we could both feel the gnawing curiosity eating away. I pegged for his music. I get to ask a question if I know the song.
"Full Name?" As promised we keep the subject light. Light, it's as if whatever awaits us once these questions run out will be nothing but darkness. Which is mostly true.
"Edward Anthony Masen, named after my father."
"Nice"
"Not really" I shrug.
"Full Name?" his voice asks once he sees that I hesitate with the current song.
"Isabella Marie Dawyer, last name is not really mine." He raises an eyebrow.
"Not now" Although the answer isn't really that personal, the questions that would follow surely would be. I want to save it until the end, when all can be revealed equally.
"Name of song?" This song is appealing.
"Kings of Leon, Use somebody"
"Nice choice."
"Thanks"
__
Here is what I've gathered from mysterious and kind Edward Cullen:
1. He likes lyrics that aren't that appealing to others. Sad things preferably, with a bit of happiness throwing in there to keep him sane. That isn't working out to well.
2. He has substantial amounts of money for a teenager (At least in camping equipment).
3. Father: Anthony Masen, Mother: Elizabeth Masen
4. 2 Blankets, 1 thermo, 1 sleeping bag, toothbrush, toothpaste, along any other necessary toiletries.
5. He has a passion for music and is learning how to play the piano. He has promised to teach me someday. Right.
6. He has an obsession with speed. Not the drug.
7. Doesn't understand the generation he has been born into. Appreciates its perks but the people in it can have shitty personalities, most morals have gone out the window. I concur.
Here is what I, Isabella Marie, have granted him:
1. My Name
2. Mothers Name: Renee Dawyer, Father: incommunicado
3. The fact that I am a junkie
4. That I am trying to stay clean
5. I enjoy solitude, or rather have learned to enjoy it
6. My life wasn't always this fucked up, he concurs.
7. Company (his words)
8. My great writing skills (pen and paper provided by: Him)
9. Last: ways to survive on the streets
In retrospect, I cannot offer much besides my personality, stories with messed up endings (he enjoys these) and my company. Never have I been so selfish. It's liberating. He comes over almost every night now and I find that I crave his company, he has confined in me that he does too. I'd blushed when I'd told him. I never blush.
Strange things are happening reader.
Strange things.
All because of this bronze haired boy.