"WHAT a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, "that Edward should have no taste for drawing."
Bella paused in her reading of Sense and Sensibility and looked at her Edward.
"Do you have no taste for drawing?" She questioned, hoping to draw out some of his memories.
The doctors had since confirmed that Edward had amnesia, which only added to list of current ailments on his chart. Doctor Banner had brought in a colleague who Isabella could only describe as ogle worthy.
A dead ringer for Paul Newman age fifty, Carlisle Cullen's blue eyes had captured Isabella's attention instantly and she had listened to his mellow voice quite intently as he'd explained to Edward how he would like to operate after his burns had sufficiently healed. The news had buoyed both Edward and Isabella somewhat, however, there was the fact that Edward had no memories prior to his waking up to still weigh them down. Isabella had taken it upon herself to try and help him remember some things and that is how Edward ended up listening to Bella read aloud. Isabella reasoned that a good book allowed people to study different aspects of human nature that resonated across time and she could only hope that some element of the plot would resonate with Edward. Edward, meanwhile, was grateful to just hear Bella's voice and watch her face transform as she transitioned between the speech of various characters and the narrator.
So, when she had stopped reading and asked him a question, it took him a while to realise, before he responded by picking up a pen and adding to the third page of their conversation.
Isabella could only chuckle when Edward pulled his hand back to reveal a stick figure that stood above his answer.
"I don't know, but what do you think?"
Bella looked into Edward's playful eyes, but they couldn't hide that they were shrouded with uncertainty.
"I think that you've got some untouched talent there," she winked.
Edward watched as her rich, chocolate eyes turned thoughtful. It was moments like this that served to remind him why he had nicknamed her Bella – beautiful.
"Does anything feel natural to you?" Bella asked and he could tell that she was trying to help him remember.
Did anything feel natural to him? Well, writing felt sort of natural. His urge to talk was profound, but he daren't move his lips if he wanted to be in as less pain as possible. Most of all, though, listening to and conversing with Bella felt natural. He held the pen steadily and gave her his response.
"This feels natural."
Edward stared fixedly at Bella's cheeks as they turned a beautiful shade of pink and aches that could not be subdued with pain medication found a home near his stomach. Bella ducked her head and some of her long hair shielded her from further view. Edward wished that he was in a position where he could brush the hair away and, in the process, not move his diaphragm and feel the pain of his broken ribs, or damage the fresh stitches just above where his spleen used to be.
"Well, um, it's getting late and I should probably let you rest," Isabella spoke softly to the floor, before looking up and pushing the hair behind her ears. She bit down on her bottom lip. "But I will come back tomorrow, if you'd like."
"Yes," he wrote, with a smiley face, before pushing the notebook and pen towards her.
Bella grinned.
"Like I said, untouched talent." She pushed the notebook and pen back within Edward's reach and picked up her handbag. "You keep it. At least, then, you can communicate with the Doctors and Nurses. Plus, we may need it tomorrow."
She reached over and grasped his hand.
"Would you like the TV on?"
Edward blinked and she took that as confirmation.
"All right. Now, I know you probably don't remember, but I'm thinking that ESPN may be a safe bet for your preferred channel." She turned the TV on and then looked back at the man who had brought her down an unexpected path. "Now, don't get too heated at bad calls. I'll see you tomorrow."
Edward's eyes lingered on Bella's retreating form and he hoped that he wouldn't have to wait long before she walked through that door again. Even though he apparently hadn't known her prior to the quake, she was the closest thing to home that currently came to mind. Despite the pain and the exhaustion, she made him feel comfortable and content. Now that she was gone, he let the pain and exhaustion that he'd kept at bay take over. As his eyelids closed, his ears caught the lead up information to the third game of the World Series.
"Good," he thought. "The Cubs are in with a chance."
Then sleep took over and brought with it memories of chocolate eyes.
I hope that giving feedback and reading this story feels natural to you.
Karry.
