Part Six
Isabella stretches out languidly in bed as a sleeping Edward's arms stay fast about her. She rolls over to face him – to gaze upon him in sleep. He looks so different without his glasses on and with his nose pressed up against the pillow. His hair had stayed neat throughout the night, barely getting mussed at all. He must have used a lot of hair gel. She chuckles quietly.
"Hey, what's so funny?" he asks sleepily, without opening his eyes. Before she can even answer, he has gone back to snoring softly.
She carefully extracts herself from his arms and replaces her body with one of her pillows, which he immediately hugs tightly to himself. Then he buries his face in it, rolls over, and the snoring starts up again. Isabella places a gentle hand on the bare skin of Edward's warm shoulder before leaving for the bathroom.
She turns on the water to the shower and as she waits for it to get warm, she chooses a selection from Vivaldi to listen to. She always starts her day with music.
Spring. Yes, that will do nicely. That particular piece is reminiscent of wedding music to most – perfect for scaring a man off – she should know - it's a tool in her arsenal. Yet, her gut tells her that Edward can handle it. She doesn't mean it as a test for him anyway - she just loves Vivaldi and is in the mood for it this morning. She steps into the shower to the chipper pull of horsehair bows over taut violin strings.
Encased in the glass of the shower, the warm steam that is building is filled with the scent of her shampoo as she applies it to her hair. Soon Edward opens the door to join her and a bit of its floral scent escapes.
"Lilies?" he asks her as he steps in.
"Why yes, Edward. My shampoo is 'Lilies of the Valley.' How did you know?"
"I have an excellent nose," he says and smiles.
He places his hands on her waist and helps her to rise up to her tiptoes in order to reach his fine nose and kiss it. He smiles like a child as she pulls away.
"Turn around." His fingers find their way into her hair as she does. It is still sudsy and heavily scented with her shampoo.
"You do realize that every part of a Lily of the Valley is poisonous, don't you?" Edward says.
"Yes, but they have such an alluring scent . . ."
"That they do," he says breathing in the scent of the air around them deeply as he kneads her scalp.
"Did you know that Lilies of the Valley are the birth flowers of May?" she asks.
"Yes, I did."
"They represent humility, sweetness, and purity," she says succinctly.
"Ah, but do you know what they mean in the language of flowers?" he counters.
"No. Tell me."
Edward turns her around and guides her underneath the showerhead. His fingers are firm but gentle as they glide over her scalp, rinsing it clean. "In the language of flowers, Lilies of the Valley represent a return to happiness."
Isabella smiles as he places a hand on each side of her face, the shampoo now fully rinsed out of her hair. His thumbs trace small circles.
His voice is husky as he says, "It's an appropriate scent for you, Isabella. You have returned me to happiness."
Edward has matters to attend to back at the Mayor's mansion that day so he plans to get fully dressed even before breakfast, but Isabella decides to stay comfortable in her nightgown for a while. She doesn't have anywhere to be until she leaves for the conference later that evening. So, she just dons a robe and sets her hair - drying it and putting it back up into her classic updo all the while sneaking glances of Edward as he shaves.
"What?" he says several times, a bit shyly.
"Nothing," she always answers with an impish grin.
"It's obvious what you're doing," he says.
"Oh?" She wasn't aware that she was doing anything. "What is that?"
"You're going to want to give me an inspection when I'm done," he says with a nod of confidence.
"Am I now?"
"Yes," he says with a bright grin and finishes up, splashing the last of the travel-size aftershave he has at her place on his face. "Okay I'm ready. Do your worst."
"Okay Mr. Nygma," Isabella says and steps closer to him. As she trails her fingers down the side of his right cheek she nods and says in mock seriousness, "Smooth."
He stands tall.
Then runs her fingers down his left cheek and nods. "No stubble here either. Good, good."
Then her thumb finds its way down to his chin and then trails back up to his bottom lip. "I think all is in order."
She leaves her thumb there for a moment as they stare into each other's eyes for a bit. Vivaldi is still playing. Spring has made it all the way to Autumn.
"You have exquisite taste in music, Isabella."
"Thank you," she breathes.
"Did you know that The Four Seasons is most commonly played at weddings?"
Yes. She does. Intimately. She blushes - her music hasn't scared him away at all.
He takes her in his arms and kisses her deeply as his hand trails down to her lower back, pulling her in. She grows warm and yearning under his touch. She even moans a little bit, signaling her desire.
Edward breaks away from her and taps the tip of her nose lovingly. "Uh-uh. No time for that. I've got to make us breakfast."
"Edward –"
"How are we supposed to play house if I never get any time to play in your kitchen?"
Isabella just smiles and shakes her head, and then gestures toward the kitchen. "Okay, Edward. Knock yourself out."
The heart-shaped omelettes that Edward had made were already laid before her on the table when he asks, "So what does one do at a librarian's conference?"
Of course, he had presented her with the omelettes – surrounded by the carefully placed strawberries and orange juice and coffee cups – after making her solve a simple riddle.
"It would bore you," she answers.
"Nothing that you could say, do, or think could bore me," as he says as he leans down to kiss her.
"In that case, let me read you my schedule," Isabella says. As she reaches into her purse to grab it, she realizes that now is the perfect time. Kristen's glasses are in there. She's been meaning to don them but has just been too caught up in how happy she has been with Edward. Shame on her for being so selfish. She needs to focus on his needs now. The entire reason she is here is so that she can help him heal. And he is in a good place right now. She believes he's ready to confront some of his memories and face his deep-seated fear.
She slips them on nonchalantly.
"Where did those glasses come from?" he asks nervously when he looks up and sees her wearing them.
From Kristen.
But she can't tell him that so instead she tells him that they are her backup pair of glasses and that she usually wears contacts. Edward doesn't answer, just stares at her, sitting ramrod straight in his chair. A slight bob of his Adam's apple is the only indication that he's still alive.
"Something wrong?" Isabella asks, noticing that his hands are visibly shaking. Time to push it. "Edward what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."
She reaches out for his hand and he pulls it away from her grasp just as she makes contact.
He flees to the bathroom.
Isabella slowly takes off Kristen's glasses and bows her head, praying for Edward to get through this. To be strong. She knows what's going on in there. She had already seen everything through the window onto the world before she had even started this assignment.
Nevertheless, her heart aches for him as he goes through this part alone.