Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters and Twilight plot lines that may appear in this story. The remainder is my original work. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization. Don't steal, it isn't polite.

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Chapter Three

~All glory comes from daring to begin.

-Eugene F. Ware

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

BPOV

I stood looking out my grandmother's front door that we had most recently taken as our own.

In the days between her funeral and my impending beginning at Forks High, snow had fallen heavily from the sky in some sort of freak winter storm.

I missed my raindrops.

I stared at the fading red Chevy pickup that was now sitting in our driveway. My father had removed it from the shed yesterday. With grease-stained jeans and several frustrated curse words, he had managed to restore it to a running status - a gift from my father and grandparents both.

I wouldn't have changed a single thing about it. Not the rusting around the fender or the dent behind the fuel cap. Not the worn-out paint or the deafening roar as it first came to life. This truck deserved to be revived and loved.

I lifted the strap of my book bag higher on my shoulder, heaving a sigh as my eyes followed feather snowflakes falling from the atmosphere until they disappeared into a thin layer of white below. Thanksgiving was on the horizon. Then Christmas. Then Easter.

And then I was free.

I had applied to several different universities, concentrating on Music Composition as my major and had heard back from each one. Instantly accepted…if only things came so easily to other aspects of my life.

The University of Seattle was looking more appealing every day. Originally I had been eager to distance myself from my parents, but ever since I had begun my gluttonous fascination with a beautiful yet forbidden man, my previous decision had lost its allure.

I was being irrational by factoring him into an equation that would ultimately decide my future…however, I never claimed to be any other way.

I heard my dad's brand new work boots stomping against wooden floorboards behind me until his hand was on my shoulder. "Ready for your big day?"

It was his big day as well. He was the new Chief of Police in town. How lucky for him that his mother's death had aligned with the retirement of Chief Jenkins.

I turned to see my father in his brand new, starched uniform. He looked dapper and authoritative, to be sure.

My mother came up behind us and wrapped her arms around my father. "Look at this handsome man," she smiled. They gazed at each other for a moment before Charlie pressed his lips to Renee's forehead, and I recognized a spark of something I hadn't seen in so very long.

Clearly Forks, Washington was reminding them of who they truly were together.

My mother pulled the collar of my coat until it was tight around my chin. "You'll make friends, baby," she assured me. "I'm sure there are plenty of nice kids in this town."

Her eyes glazed over slightly as the words left her mouth. All I could see was the pain and memories of eighteen plus years ago, where the kids of Forks were anything but. I knew that six months wouldn't be enough time to form bonds with children who had no grasp of the depths of the world around them.

Once, I thought I had found a boy who did.

Last year in my art class, there had been a tortured, long-haired boy. He rarely spoke, too absorbed in his paintings and the coated colors upon his fingers. But occasionally I would find his eyes on me from across our table.

His hair was deep brown and silken, his eyes a mixture of hazel and gray. He was an odd boy.

We had never actually spoken until that day, but our eyes told tales to one another amongst our expressive art. He began painting a girl with brown hair and brown eyes, the word "sunlight" scrawled down her pale face as the rays of the sun burst forth from behind her.

"It's you," he had murmured that day before the dismissing bell had rung. "This is you."

That night I wrote a song about the girl basked in sunlight.

The following Friday I had wandered into the darkened classroom after school, eager to work on a piece of pottery I couldn't get out of my head.

I walked into the art closet and he was there, agonizing over color upon color.

He looked up and stood as he saw me. "Sunlight," he murmured, brushing the back of his fingers along my temple.

I thought he was miraculous.

I pulled his t-shirt in my fists once his awkward-moving lips met mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth with a grunt and it was too much. Too wet, too needy, but maybe this was what it was like to burn too bright.

My stomach muscles bunched together as I widened my stance…he made me feel needy as well.

I was pushed against the shelves of the closet as his palm squeezed my breast, over and over as he pushed his hips against mine. I tangled my fingers into his hair and let him devour me with his tongue, knowing this wouldn't be the defining pleasure of my life, but certain that it was a start.

I gasped once his eager fingers slid inside the front of my pants, searching for something he knew nothing of. I let him touch me, let him explore my wet skin as I flattened my palm against the front of his brown corduroy pants. It was hard there, a slightly protruding bulge that was hot on my fingers and not as large as I expected it to be.

He moaned against my teeth and pushed himself against my palm. His finger went inside of me and I bit my lip, partly from pleasure and partly from his untrained movements.

We existed awkwardly in that closet, his hips thrusting against my palm. His tongue drowning my mouth, his fingers pushing in and out of me in a frantic rhythm.

I felt it growing in my belly, a strong wave that shot to every limb. He rubbed his fingers in me until I groaned through gritted teeth, my body freezing as a conflicted orgasm washed through me.

I had stronger sensations given to me by my own hand, but there was something exhilarating about receiving pleasure from someone other than myself.

I gripped him harder as I shuddered against his hand, his body beginning to spasm as he cried out into my mouth, the fabric of his pants turning wet and warm as I held onto him tightly.

We said nothing for minutes on end, just occupied the tiny space amongst art and shelves.

"Can we do more?" he finally asked. "Can I have more of you, Bella?"

He was deeper than most. Tortured and quiet, but more…

I nodded and he kissed me once, promising to arrive outside my window that night.

He was gone before I could ask how he knew where I had lived.

True to his word he arrived in my yard in the dead of night, my father on patrol and my mother out like a light from her prescription sleeping pills.

I snuck him inside my room where he undressed me in the moonlight, kissing my lips, sucking a nipple, yet leaving the rest of my ample body undiscovered.

He stared at my exposed sex in wonder as he hastily removed his clothing. I gasped when I saw his arousal. It stood outwards from his body and was moving on its own accord - it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Pink and hard, yet it seemed so delicate to me.

I looked up when I felt his fingers tracing a line of smudged ink along my forearm. "Your words," he had murmured.

I touched the paint splattered across his palm. "Your paintings."

He backed me against my mattress until I was lying on it, watching in awe as he rolled latex up his throbbing skin. My heart fluttered nervously, wondering if this boy was enough for me to allow him to enter my body.

He kissed my eyelids and stroked me slowly until I was soaked with arousal, whispering that it might hurt me but he would do everything he could to make me feel safe.

So I lifted my legs and wrapped them around him until he was groaning so deeply, as if this was the most painfully exuberant moment of his life. I whimpered as he pushed until it burned, my eyes stinging as he held still inside of me and reveled in my raw throbbing. "I'm sorry," he whispered, waiting to push again until my face untwisted.

Back and forth he rocked on top of me…and oh, his sounds.

I was fascinated by the deep and vulnerable sobs that came from this boy as he took his pleasure from my wet skin.

He began shaking above me, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple as he kissed me until my lips ached. My breathing was so fast, so heavy. Not because of my own pleasure but from the gift I seemed to be giving this boy, and the new sensations of my body abandoning it's adolescence and diving into womanhood.

I had never been much of a child to begin with.

I moaned softly as he pulsed inside me, his body trembling on top of mine as he groaned and groaned and groaned. He laid on me heavily once he settled, the aftershocks of his pleasure shaking into my body.

"Thank you, Bella. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered. "You are so beautiful, sometimes I think you can't be real."

He held me for minutes until he left me with a kiss and a tied up condom.

We had been together a few more times in that way, but never did anything at school but share a knowing smile.

One day I walked into art class and he was gone, learning that Garrett's family had moved to Tulsa rather suddenly.

I would never see that boy again and in the end, what we had could never have been permanent, but I felt contented in experiencing with him the sexual need that was prominent inside me.

Now when the nights were dark and only the breeze was awake with me, it was darkening shades of blue that caressed my skin. Kind eyes, beautiful blond hair, strong hands…

A smile curving with our hidden secrets, unending gazes of irrevocable understanding.

My hand on his warm abdomen…

I'd pull my covers over my head and close my eyes against the darkness, watching him lay next to me in a space where guilt wasn't welcome. Where there were no obligations or right or wrong…

Just us…

Just us.

When I touched myself to his memories, the pleasure nearly crumbled me.

Just from our intimacy behind closed eyelids.

But wasn't that all I was allowed from him? My thoughts of his skin, his lips, his smile…

Even though there was no doubt that I knew him in a way that couldn't be defined, it didn't change the fact that he was still someone else's husband. I couldn't concentrate on that notion for long, because it was an unbearable truth to be burdened with.

"Bellaaaaa," I heard my mother's voice, snapping me to the present. "You in there, baby?"

I let out the breath I was holding. "Yeah, I'm here."

Neither one of my parents were surprised by my mind's absence, since it wasn't uncommon for me to space out on more than one occasion.

I hugged them both and walked swiftly to my new vehicle, climbing inside and inhaling deeply. It smelled like gasoline, peppermint and tobacco…it smelled like mine.

I closed my eyes at the roar it generated with the turn of a key, and I steadied myself for the first day at a school I undoubtedly wouldn't find a home in.

-x-x-

I could take the time to talk about the eight hours I spent inside the brick walls of my new High School. I could divulge my class schedule, the questioning looks from the student body, the all-American boy who took interest in my eccentricity, the girl with square glasses who smiled warmly at me as she played her Cello in the school yard, or the cruel girls in gym class who mocked me because I was different.

But in the end, did any of it matter?

I'd fulfill my obligation. Monday through Friday I would park my truck in the school's lot. I'd carry my bag on my shoulder and enter those doors. I'd pretend that their flimsy learning material was something I didn't already know. I'd stay quiet but smile softly in order to remain unseen like I preferred. I'd draw on my jeans and write lyrics on my hand and I'd dream…

I'd dream of him.

And that's what I did.

Mike was the all-American child who tried to lose himself in my depths but only drowned in my intricacy. Jessica and Lauren were the girls who resented my uniqueness with hurtful remarks. Angela was the quiet girl with her Cello, who treated me with kindness and became the friend I'd never had. The curriculum continued to be unfulfilling, and my simple smile remained plastered across my pink lips. My drawn flowers stood long across my pant leg…and my dreams held nothing but the beauty of Carlisle Cullen.

I had heard from him on a Friday evening, five days after my initial discovery of Forks High.

I had several pencils twisted in my hair, keeping it high atop my head as I played my new antique baby grand. A smudge of lead covered my top lip, where I scratched at a pesky itch in the midst of my song.

My t-shirt was white and plain, just like I had appeared to be. My jeans were cut off at my thigh and the frayed threads were tickling my skin with each step I took towards the ringing telephone.

"Hello," I murmured, looking back to my awaiting piano. I stifled my gasp as I recognized his silence on the other end. "Hi," I whispered, pressing my hand against my rapidly beating heart.

"Hi Bella," he said softly. Our silence became prominent, and I allowed myself to close my eyes to see if my rampant thoughts would reach his thirsty mind. With a sigh, he closed us off. "Is your dad home?"

I shook my head. "He and my mother are seeing a movie tonight."

"Okay," he murmured, and I could almost hear his hand in his hair. "How are you?" he breathed like a sigh of relief.

"I'm okay," I swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling the onslaught of tears as they pushed against my constricting throat and burned my eyes. Why did I need to cry now?

"Are you?" I whispered.

I pressed my heated forehead to the cool wall as his silence spoke volumes to me. "I…I'm calling about the babysitting job. I'm calling to see when you can start watching my daughters." His voice was pleading, asking me to let that be the only purpose for this call. Beseeching me to accept that this was his only reason and that there was nothing here to be seen, to be felt, to be alive inside us.

I gripped the phone tightly in my hands as two hot tears escaped my clenched eye lids. "I know," I nodded, pressing the receiver to my lips. "It's okay, I know."

I felt our comforting silence wrap around us, helping to soothe us as the cruel reality fought to knock down our door. I began frantically speaking. "I can start any time you need me."

Need me, I silently begged.

He exhaled audibly, like heavy breathing pushing against my soft lobe, the heat of his air warming my cheek and clenching my body in utter delight. He breathed out once more, and I failed to suppress the moan he drew from my lips.

"Fuck."

A dirty word on such a pristine tongue. It was a tantalizing contradiction and so quiet I knew without a doubt it wasn't meant to be heard.

But I always heard him.

"Saturday afternoon." His voice was hoarse and unstable. "Tomorrow at 3 p.m. That's when I need you."

"Is that all?" I brazenly questioned.

I heard a groan in the back of his throat. "That's all I have, Bella. It's all I have."

With a gentle click, he was gone but still pressed against me. Words on my ear and breath on my cheek. Groan in my throat, hands at my hips, body on my body…

And with butterflies fluttering in my stomach, fighting to take flight with tiny rocks tied to their wings, I walked back to my piano and continued the gentle harmony of blue skies and even bluer waters…and a kindness that my heart continually lost its beats for.

-x-x-

The next day was like any other day, I had told myself.

I retrieved directions from Charlie and bundled my coat tight, taking tentative steps toward my truck. I was anxious to see the girls…even more anxious to draw Heaven.

I drove winding road after winding road, squinting to read my father's tiny handwriting and stay on the road at the same time. Finally I came to a long, paved driveway, the only one I had seen for miles. I turned down it and hoped for the best.

I parked in front of a tall, mesmerizing home. Everything was pure and open like his heart was, welcoming and extravagant like his children were. I wondered where her blackness dwelled on this property.

I saw no cars in the driveway, my only indication that I had the right home was the simple wooden sign hung to the side of a glass door. The Cullens Welcome You.

And how fervently I welcomed them.

I removed my wool mitten and pressed against the icy bell, an eloquent tone sounding out loudly from behind the closed door. I heard what sounded like stocking feet pattering against hard wood floors until suddenly the door was thrown open and I was greeted by the beauty of night and day.

"Bella!" Alice squealed, throwing herself into my arms.

I chuckled and squeezed her tight. "Inside, sweetie. You're going to freeze."

I knelt down and her warm little hands pressed against my cheeks. "You're cold and you smell like strawberries," she whispered with a wry gleam in her eyes.

I heard the door slam shut behind me before two little arms were wrapped around my neck from behind. "She smells like raspberries," Rosalie corrected, pressing her tiny nose into my shoulder.

I put a stop to the bickering before it began. "You know what, you're both right. My shampoo is strawberry scented, but my hand lotion?" I pointed to the palm of my hand. "All raspberries."

"We're both right, Rose," Alice huffed, sticking her tongue out at her sister before taking my hand. "Come on, Bella. We're watching High School Musical."

"Your shoes go here," Rosalie sighed, pointing beside the door. "Hang your coat here…and what's in the bag?"

I smiled brightly. "Just some supplies. Do you remember what we're going to draw today?"

Alice's eyes widened. "Heaven!" she whispered.

I nodded as Rose shook in excitement behind her calm refrain. "We're not just going to draw it…we're going to create it."

"Lots of lights!" Rosalie piped in.

"And flowers and purple too, right?" Alice questioned.

I nodded fervently. "Whatever you want, that's what we'll have."

We were interrupted by clacking heels approaching behind us. "Girls, go watch your movie," she commanded.

"Aw, I don't wanna watch T.V.," Rosalie groaned, stomping one pink-socked foot.

Alice pulled on her sister's arm. "Come on," she sighed. "We can finish the movie and then get to work." She winked at me conspiratorially and rounded the corner with her twin in tow.

I lifted myself from the floor and stood at full height, but still her icy frame loomed so much higher than me. "Bella," her smile was fabricated as she gestured towards the kitchen. "Why don't we go over the ground rules before I leave?"

I followed her click and clack until we were at a counter in an immaculate kitchen, wide open and bright. She pointed to the paper upon the countertop. "This is everything you'll need to know about the girls. Since my husband insisted on uprooting our permanent sitter, you'll have to relearn everything, so I'm sure it will be quite a process." She barely fought her eye roll.

"I'm sure I can keep up," I smiled, perusing the do's and don'ts of watching seven-year-olds for sporadic periods of time.

"Oh, I'm sure you can," she said rather sarcastically as she tightened the knot of hair on her head. "Dr. Cullen will be home shortly after eight p.m. He can put the girls to sleep and pay you for your services. Emergency contacts are by the phone, as well as cell numbers for my husband and I. Don't call me unless you desperately need to."

She left the kitchen as her final words still echoed in the large room, my eyes narrowing as she collected her purse and not only disregarded me, but didn't bother to pay her daughters another glance as she departed.

But she wasn't their real Mommy, was she?

I found myself eager to know.

Alice and Rosalie were kneeling on the couch, watching through parted curtains as the garage door hummed to life. I stared on in wonder as Alice's head nestled gently against Rose's shoulder. "Are there stars in heaven?" the raven-haired girl asked.

Rose nodded and pointed above her head. "Uh-huh. The floor of Heaven is actually our sky, so there are stars where they stand, okay?"

"Okay," Alice agreed. "But we need glitter to make them shine."

"Of course we do," Rosalie giggled.

"But the stars will be on the ceiling, because when we lie down we can look up to see them."

"I know that. And the flowers will hang down from the sky, because that means they'll grow tall for Mama and Grandma Swan."

They were quiet for a moment as they watched Jane disappear from the driveway. Alice smiled brightly. "It's time."

-x-x-

I stood with two girls in a surprisingly tidy playroom, our fingers to our lips as we pondered the space around us. The light was fading by the second, the shimmering snow being drowned out by the evening darkness.

Alice's little brow was furrowed, while her sister looked downright angry as we stared on in silence. The last two hours had been filled with nothing but our creativity. The two little twins began their vision on white expanses of paper, mapping out the extraordinariness they believed their mother's heaven to be.

But for them, it wasn't enough.

They wanted to be submerged in it.

So as they laced construction paper flower petals with green yarn, decorating with glitter glue as they saw fit, I would proceed to hang them from the ceiling with the help of a step ladder from a nearby closet. I didn't stop hanging until the room was enveloped in the tallest flowers, stretching down from Heaven's grasp.

Next were the stars. Pale purple stars cut out abundantly, glitter covering every peak in order for them to properly shine. Once I adhered them to the ceiling, my little girls and I stood back and watched the room come to life. The sky above us sparkled and the boisterous petals were beautiful to be sure.

But even I couldn't deny that it needed something more.

It was fascinating to watch the girls as they silently communicated like a graceful dance, vetoing the same concept at the same time and standing identically as they thought to themselves. Finally they both gasped, clearly finding the missing pieces as they ran off in separate directions.

I stood in the doorway until they both came racing back, a sheer fabric in Alice's hands while Rosalie yanked on my arm. I giggled as they spoke over themselves a mile a minute.

"One at a time," I smiled.

Rosalie jumped in first, naturally. "We need lights, Bella. Lots and lots of lights. We have twinkly lights in the garage and that's what we need! Please can we hang them?"

I turned to Alice where she was waiting patiently. "This is my silky blanket from Grandma Swan! She gave it to me because when we'd visit I'd wear it around my shoulders like a cape! It's purple and it was hers so it needs to be in our Heaven!"

I put my finger to my lip. "Okay, the fabric we can do but Rose, sweetie, I don't think we can just go rooting through Daddy's things, and I know we can't start hanging lights without permission."

"But we won't leave marks in the wall, because she…Mommy doesn't like marks so Daddy had to get these things that stick onto wherever you're sticking them!" She pouted shamelessly and as her foot began stomping, I couldn't help but smile.

"Another time, Rose. We'll get your daddy's permission, and we can hang as many as you'd like."

Like clockwork, or fate, the home phone began ringing. Rosalie's eyes lit up brighter than any twinkling lights ever could. "I bet that's him!"

Rosalie raced for the phone and lifted it from the cradle hastily. "Daddy?"

She began jumping up and down for the sake of all her pent up energy. "Nothing is wrong, Daddy," she sighed exasperatedly. "Bella and Alice and me are making a surprise in the toy room and we neeeeed the twinkly lights. Can we use them? We won't make a mess, we swear it."

There was silence as Rose began to giggle. "I'm not gonna string 'em around me, Daddy. Just can we? Cuz I know right where they are, on that shelf in the garage."

More silence.

And then intense squealing as she tossed the phone at me. "He said yes, Bella, I told you he would." She couldn't resist sticking her tongue out at me playfully as she dragged Alice off to retrieve her precious lights.

I shook my head at the two before realizing what I held in my hands, and just who it was connecting me to. With my heart like a drum, I lifted it to my ear. "Hey," I smiled.

I heard him smiling too. "Hey, Bella." Our silence was warm and sort of like a blanket straight from the dryer wrapping around my shoulders. "How are you…how are my girls?"

I felt the need to whisper. "They're so great…imagining, coloring, cutting, glittering…for the past two hours they've been hard at work."

"Yeah?" he spoke softly, lowering his voice. "Tell me what you've been making."

My cheeks ached with the power of my bliss. "I couldn't possibly, Carlisle. They want to surprise you…they've had so much fun just creating this. The way their minds work together, their vibrancy, their life…watching them together is a sight to behold." I trailed off, realizing I was rambling.

"I've been blessed, I can't deny that," he murmured. "I'm anxious to get home and see it."

We reveled in our silence for several long seconds as I walked down the stairs and watched the girls carrying a tangled mass of lights in their little hands. I couldn't help but laugh. "I think it will take longer to untangle them than to hang them, my dear sweet girls."

I heard a deep chuckle on the other end. "Blame me for that…I'm not exactly a patient man."

My breathing accelerated. "You're not?"

"No." More silence. "Bella, I…"

I knew he was going to bring it up then. The unspoken power between us. Our familiarity. Our breath of relief the moment we occupied the same room. And I had only laid eyes on this man twice in my life, not that it mattered. Time has no merit on what the heart already knows.

I wasn't scared of bringing our secret to life, but I couldn't stand the painful confusion in his rich, honey voice. "Carlisle, can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything, Bella." And I knew that was true.

"Your um…your wife left in her instructions that I should warm up some T.V. dinners for the girls, but I really don't mind cooking. I'm sure they'd love to help me."

I looked up once the lights fell to the linoleum floor. "Big cook, little cooks!" They squealed in unison.

I looked at them questioningly until Carlisle's voice warmed me. "Did they just say big cook, little cooks?" he laughed. I nodded and he continued. "Yeah…they love to help me in the kitchen. We sort of pretend that we're doing a cooking show, hence the title." I could almost see the cherry blush across his rugged jaw, and I fought to suppress my groan. "But Bella, it's not your responsibility to make sure my daughters are eating a balanced meal."

My eyes widened, suddenly fearful that I insulted him. "There's nothing wrong with the Kid Cuisine's, Carlisle, I wasn't trying to imply that. It's just that I enjoy cooking, and it's something fun we could do together." I heard his breaths entering the receiver hastily. "Something I could do with the girls, I mean…" I added softly.

"There is something wrong with the processed filth in those meals, Bella," he growled, his angry tone fluttering my heart and pulsing the coil hidden deep within me. "If you'd truly like to make them dinner, then please, help yourself to anything. And know that I appreciate this. It just…it means a lot to me, knowing how closely you're caring for them."

"They're amazing," I whispered. They came from you.

"You're amazing."

I clutched my chest at the breath of air that carried those words, maybe not intended for my ears…or perhaps they were. Maybe they were spoken so softly that they could slide languidly through our phone connection and into my body. He continually left me speechless.

I closed my eyes at the sound of his deep, heavy breathing…and realized that his daughters were staring at me with peculiar faces. I put the phone to my rapidly beating heart, almost hoping he would hear his effect on my body. "Girls, why don't you take the lights up to the toy room and then we'll get started on dinner." My voice was weak as I attempted to catch my breath.

They acquiesced and in the next moment, Carlisle and I were left alone.

We didn't speak. There was so much to say and everything in this mortal world was preventing us from voicing it. But I so longed to be brave. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"What could you possibly be sorry for, Bella?" he murmured so softly, like a gentle hum of contentment whispered to a lover in the early hours of morning.

I swallowed heavily and pressed my forehead to the cool paint, just like I had during our first phone call. "You're right," I nodded. "I can't be sorry for this…but knowing that I'm conflicting you, hurting you…I feel it like a knife cutting my skin."

His exhale was lithe, but loaded. "Are you creating Heaven, Bella?" His voice longed for me, and I pushed my thighs tightly together.

I let the burning tears in my eyes perplex me and define me in that moment. "Yes," I all but moaned, caressing his phone like I longed to caress his rigid, warm torso. "It's a dreamer's Heaven…purple and flowers and lights so bright, they make you want to cry. That's what we're making."

His breath was quivering like my body. "Do you think…in a place such as Heaven, a person can be free?"

I nodded. "I think they can be true."

"Then save your words for Heaven, Bella. Just save them for me until the moment I can allow myself our truth…can we please?"

I felt a hard nagging of life and morals at my gut, but it had no right to be with me in that moment.

"Heaven can be whatever you want it to be," I murmured, shuddering in overwhelming tremors as I repeated his words from the day I truly let him consume me.

"What if it's you?" he questioned boldly, the huskiness of his tone doing strange and exhilarating things to my skin.

I smiled and shamelessly pressed my lips to his receiver. "Then it's me…and nothing can take it away."

He groaned in frustration. "Everything can take it," he whispered.

I closed my eyes and hummed long and low. "One step, one second, one word at a time…that's all we can do."

"How do you know me so well, Bella? Tell me and I'll leave you to Heaven and my beautiful little girls. Just tell me…"

I smiled widely. "But what if I can't tell you? What if this is just the way it is? The sky is blue, like your eyes…the world spins but we can't feel it, and I know you like I know my own heart."

Thirty-seven seconds without a sound. And then it was everything.

"Do you know how lonely I've felt every moment of my life, as far back as I can remember?" His voice was shaking with intensity.

"Yes," I whispered softly.

"Do you know that since my eyes fell upon you, I've had you with me every moment since?"

"You've been with me," I whispered, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

His mouth was so close to the receiver. "I feel the guilt pushing me down, and I knew I should morally let it in. "I've only ever wanted to be a good man, Bella, and I know this…thing between us makes me the worst kind there is. But I'm fighting to keep the remorse at bay, and instead revel in the companionship you've given me just by existing in my world." He hesitated for a moment, his voice a gentle hum as he spoke once more. "I'm not lonely anymore…for the first time, I'm not lonely."

He was so complicated, and I found myself needing to know everything about him that I didn't already. "We aren't doing anything wrong yet."

He hesitated briefly. "But what if I want to do something wrong, Bella?"

Oh, my entire body ached with promises of everything he could give me. "Then I can guarantee that you don't want it nearly as badly as I do," I murmured heavily.

I was suddenly rejoined by his perfect children as he growled my name and my heart stuttered and stopped.

"I have two little fair-skinned chefs wondering when their daddy will be home," I spoke too lovingly and too full of everything I promised to save for Heaven.

"Two and a half hours, if I try." I imagined his strong fingers constantly tap-taptaptap-tapping against is thigh. "And Bella, I will be trying."

I wanted to beg him to touch me when he returned. To put his children to sleep and run his fingertips along my skin until he made every inch of my body his. But this was a slippery slope. Just looking in his passionate eyes and listening to the warmth of his tenor would be enough for me. "We'll talk," I whispered.

He hummed softly. "Let my eyes touch your face, let me hear your deepest thoughts…Bella, all I want to do is take my time with you, because I will not leave one curve, one word, one smile overlooked. Do you know what you've done to me?"

"Tell me," I demanded.

"In Heaven," he promised. "Where we can be true."

We slowly got off the phone and my feet were floating. The ground beneath me turned to air and gravity was being defied. The soundtrack to my life began playing a slow, ominous indie song, and I closed my eyes to imagine myself floating above and away from the ground…

I regained my reality and walked my girls into the kitchen, my thoughts flourished with their glorious father.

I was starving for the moment his dark blue eyes swirled into my awaiting umber, and trembling for the harmony of his honey-silkened words to travel across my skin.

-x-x-

A/N:

Sorry for the delay in posting (not only this story but my others as well). I tried to get some writing done before my vacation but just ran out of time. My bad!

Thanks to my beta Isabel for being my voice of reason, and thanks to my readers who are giving this CxB story a chance. I hope you're enjoying it thus far! :)

I can be found on Twitter... Brits23.

Please send me a review? I'd greatly appreciate it!

Until next time! :)