A/N: So this is one year later, just one chapter per year from now on (albeit longer chapters...). There is a big lemon here, but it had to be done, and not all the chapters will be as lemony or happy as this one. Life happens and shit hits the fan, what can I say. I like happy endings, though.
A friend of mine suggested I change my pen name to Smutballs. I kind of like that.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
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AUGUST 13, 2010
BPOV
"May I help you, miss?"
A man with wispy brown hair and salt and pepper beard greeted me at the front desk, smiling warmly as I searched through my bag.
"Oh…yes," I said, pulling out my wallet and a sheet of paper. "I have a reservation."
"The name, please?"
"Swan," I said.
"Just a moment, Ms. Swan," he replied, typing my name on a keyboard that looked almost as old as I was. The computer wheezed and whirred.
"You look familiar," he said, glancing up at my face. "Have you stayed here before?"
"Wow, you have a good memory," I replied. "I was here last summer, with my class."
"Ah yes, the Forks High School students. I rarely forget a face," he explained.
"Do you own this hotel?" I asked, surveying the hardwood floors and antiques. The furnishings were simple but elegant, and I could tell that someone had put a lot of time and effort into its upkeep.
"My father did, until last year. Now my wife and I run the business."
"Oh," I said, deciding to avoid the topic of this guy's father. I never handled those conversations very well.
"Well, it's beautiful," I commented. He smiled, pulling my reservation from a printer that I couldn't believe still worked. Charlie had one just like it in the garage, covered with dust an inch thick.
"Thank you," he replied. "May I ask what brings you back to our little island?"
His question caught me off guard, and while the answer was far too complicated to explain to this complete stranger, I had to give him something.
"I had such a good time last year that I wanted to come back," I offered.
"Well, I'm very happy to hear that. We try to take especially good care of our returning guests."
He handed the paper to me, along with a map of the grounds. He circled my destination, which was easy to find because it was so close to the water's edge.
"You'll be staying in the honeymoon suite, as you requested. I've circled it on your map. Do you know how to get there?" he asked.
"I think so," I replied, but I could feel the heat rising to my face. I anticipated a series of questions about my recent nuptials, which of course there were none. I had chosen that room for a very particular reason, but it had nothing to do with a honeymoon.
"My name is Mr. Denali if you should need anything. Please don't hesitate to contact the front desk, any time of night."
"Okay, I will," I said, smiling politely. I set the papers on the desk and fumbled with my backpack, my nerves rising in my throat. I wasn't even sure why I was nervous, why my fingers were shaking slightly and my voice had a little quiver to it. The difficult part had been escaping Charlie for two days, convincing him I had some sort of pre-orientation college retreat to go to. I had no reason to be anxious now.
As I dug inside for my cell phone, a sudden gust of air sent my little pile of papers on the desk fluttering to the floor. I inhaled deeply to calm myself, but as I did so, I was overcome by a familiar and distinctive scent that made my heart flutter and my breath catch. I turned around, and he was there, smiling his beautiful, crooked smile. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair, kissing me softly.
"You're late," I whispered.
"No," he said. "You're just pathologically punctual."
He released me from his embrace, and reached over to pick up the bag I had just completely ransacked. I saw him smile at Mr. Denali, who recognized Edward and gave him a little wave; he really did have a thing for faces. Then again, I couldn't imagine anyone ever forgetting Edward's face. Even though I saw it every day, and just about every night in my vivid dreams, he always left me breathless.
"Well, given the way you drive—"
He clicked his tongue, smirking at me. "We can't talk about that here," he said.
"It doesn't count as part of the trip?"
"No, getting to and from here doesn't count. Those are the rules," he said with mock seriousness. We had discussed the "rules" before coming here, and it seemed like an interesting challenge. Plus, this little rendezvous was an escape from Forks, and we couldn't really do that if we talked about our lives back home.
"I have a feeling I'm going to struggle with the rules."
"Not if I keep you sufficiently distracted," he said, a sly smile on his lips, taking my hand as we started down the path toward the water's edge.
***
Ten minutes later, we were standing on the little porch, lingering outside the door. Edward had the keys in his pocket, and he was jingling them loudly.
"Are we waiting for something?" I asked.
He paused. "I'm thinking," he said.
"About what?" I suddenly felt a little nervous. Was he getting cold feet about our Forks escape? It wasn't like Edward to get cold feet, but he had his moments.
"You," he said. "I'm thinking about the first time I saw you."
I groaned. "I did a face plant the first time you saw me."
"I know," he said, his face brightening at the memory. "But it was a cute face plant."
I groaned. "Do you know that I spent that entire weekend worrying about it? I felt like such a moron."
He sighed, tightening his hold on my hand and turning me to face him. "I was the moron, Bella. I almost ruined everything that weekend."
"It doesn't matter now, Edward. We're here now."
"I love you, Bella."
"I know." I smiled and pulled his face down to mine, kissing him slowly, languidly. My nerves buzzed at the contact, and a current pulsed through my veins. My physical reaction to him was always this intense, even now, a year after we met. Even more so now, if that were possible. And tonight…well, tonight was different for several reasons.
I had intended it to be a sweet, chaste kiss, but I began running my hands through his hair and heard the sound of my backpack drop to the floor. I didn't care. I deepened the kiss with my lips, my mouth, my tongue; I felt him respond to me, pulling me closer, harder. A soft moan escaped the back of my throat, and he pulled back, leaving me gasping.
"So, Bella…" he sighed. "Don't you think we should attempt to actually use the room we booked?"
"No," I breathed. "You were stalling. I got impatient."
"I know you did," he smirked, turning from me and opening the door. He picked up our bags and walked into the dark room, turning on the lights as we entered.
"I almost forgot about these," he remarked, eyeing the twinkly white lights.
Apparently this is what Mr. Denali pictured when he thought of a perfect wedding night. I wasn't really sure how I felt about them, although they certainly gave new meaning to the concept of mood lighting.
"So, my little seductress, are you hungry?" he asked, placing our things by the tiny bathroom. He sat on the bed, eyeing me as I leaned against the doorframe.
"Maybe," I said. "But it can wait a bit."
I knew that Edward could read my moods like a book, but he wasn't quite attuned to my thoughts. He knew what every smile meant, and he knew that my eyes often gave me away. When I was nervous, he knew it because my heart thundered in my chest; and when I was embarrassed, it showed in my face like a billboard, ranging from slight pink to a deep, unmistakable red. He was reading me now, and I could feel his eyes on me, registering the little hints that he had come to know so well.
"What is it, Bella? Something's on your mind."
"It's nothing," I lied.
"You know, you drive me crazy when you say that. One of these days, you'll learn to just spit it all out."
"I've been doing better," I argued.
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. Communication was never my strong point, but I was working on it.
"Look who's stalling now," he said.
I sighed, bringing my hands together so I could fidget with them as I worked out my words in my head. He probably had a good idea of what I wanted to say, but Edward would never press me. He believed that I would eventually tell him whatever I wanted him to hear, even if it took hours or days or even weeks.
"You know how hard I've fallen for you, Edward," I began. "And this past year in Forks—"
"Bella—"
"But I have to talk about it!"
"No, you don't. I know you can say what you want to say without mentioning any part of the last year. I want you in the here and now, and that's it."
I sighed, looking to his wonderfully familiar face for guidance. He was right, of course. Tonight was just for us.
"I'm afraid, Edward."
He waited for me to continue, but I just let the silence linger. I saw the worry on his face and I immediately regretted saying anything at all.
"Bella, come here."
I looked up at him, his eyes pleading and concerned. I walked slowly toward the bed, and he put his arm around my waist as I sat down. I loved the sensation of his hand on my waist, so intimate, but so secure, too.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
I hesitated briefly, staring hard at my hands.
"I'm afraid of losing you," I murmured.
He inhaled sharply, and his face dropped a bit. "I'm right here, Bella. I'm not going anywhere."
"But you are! You're going away to college, and I'm going, and we won't be together anymore. How will I be able to leave Forks without you? Spend every single day without you? Just thinking about it…"
I trailed off, feeling my eyes water as I stared at the floorboards. Edward was going away to California and I was staying in Washington, something I regretted every single day. We hadn't gotten together immediately after last year's trip; things had progressed slowly after that unexpected weekend, and it had been a very angsty year. By the time Edward and I finally got our shit together, our college decisions had already been made.
"Then come with me, Bella! I don't want to go anywhere without you, don't you realize that?"
"I can't, Edward. I want to, but I can't."
"I know," he murmured, running his fingers through his long, beautiful hair, which was his classic sign of anxiety. He did this a lot when we talked about college, which wasn't often. Edward put a lot of effort into avoiding the subject.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to spoil this night for us."
He smiled weakly. "Nah, it's okay. At least you have the balls—er, whatever—to talk about it. I pretend the issue doesn't exist."
"I'd visit you every weekend if I could," I said, realizing how pitiful I sounded.
He sighed, taking my hand in his. "Just promise me, Bella. Promise me you'll enjoy college."
"I can't without you."
"You can. You will."
"This sounds like a good-bye!" I cried in a voice that sounded high, shrieky, and pathetically childish.
"Bella, listen to me," Edward said, his gaze intense and unwavering. "You can't even begin to comprehend how often I will think of you, how fucking badly I'll miss you every second of every day. And I'll call you like the pussy-whipped boyfriend I am, because I love you and I'll miss you and I won't be able to function without hearing your voice. And maybe, someday, you'll get sick of it and move on—"
"Edward!"
"Listen. It doesn't matter. Just don't forget that I will always want to be with you, no matter what happens. And if distance and life and toolish college guys get in the way, I'll understand," he said softly. "I know you'll come back to me."
"How could you possibly think I would ever want to leave you, Edward?" I said, my eyes blurry with tears. I felt them on the brim of my lower eyelids, but I resisted the urge to brush them away. I wanted them to fall. I wanted him to see how wrong he was. How I would never, ever leave him.
He reached up with his free hand, brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. I was staring down at the floor, but I could feel his eyes on mine, taking in the tears and the frown and the devastated expression on my face.
"Don't ever be afraid, Bella. Not about us," he said, but his voice was soft and almost shaky. He cupped my chin with his hand and turned me to face him. As he did so, I felt the tears stream down my face onto my shirt, darkening the fabric. I still couldn't look at him. I wasn't sobbing or choking or breathing hard, but I was crying—probably harder than I ever had before.
"Bella," he said, leaning into me. "Bella, look at me."
I shook my head in silence, staring so hard at a speck on the floor that I thought for sure I'd burn a hole in it. He sighed heavily, his face just inches from mine. He waited until I looked up, as he knew I would.
"You have nothing to be sad about. This will all work out the way it's supposed to," he said, much more firmly now.
I nodded, forcing myself to stop this ridiculous breakdown. "I sometimes wish we had met ten years later," I mumbled. "So we wouldn't have to deal with this."
"Really?" he said, but his eyes were playful. "I think I'd rather have ten intermittent years of you than ten years of nothing."
"What if it turns into ten years of nothing?" I pressed, still fixated on the thousand mile divide that was about to come between us.
"I can guarantee that won't happen," he said.
"How?"
"I have a plan."
"Uh oh," I said, tempted to roll my eyes. "You and your plans."
"Well, last year's plan turned out pretty well, I'd say," he said, with a satisfied smirk on his face.
"True," I conceded. Jasper still brought up the infamous Plan that brought us together every time we played Asshole. "So…what's the plan?"
"I'm still hammering out the details," he teased.
"Edward! You're so mean sometimes," I whined, but my tone was playful. Edward was brooding and moody and irritable at times, but he was never mean. The only time he was truly unhappy was when I was unhappy.
"I know," he said. "But you deserve it. I mean, look at you, you're crying on our honeymoon! If D-man has a camera in all his rooms, he must be thinking we're off to a pretty fucked up start."
"Mr. Denali knows we're not on our honeymoon," I said, although for not the first time this weekend, I wished we were.
"I bet we could convince him otherwise," he said. His crooked smile spread across his face, the one that was so uniquely Edward, so shy and genuine and beautiful.
"Oh?" I said, my eyebrows raised, my voice teasingly oblivious.
"Mmhm," he murmured.
"Maybe you should demonstrate," I replied, but my voice was already quivering with anticipation. I wanted this to be my wedding night. I wanted to be in my long, elegant white dress, sitting here not as Edward's girlfriend, but as his wife. I knew that desire raged somewhere in my eyes; I knew he could sense it as well as I could. But this would have to do, for tonight.
"Well, first," he said, standing up. "I would tell my beautiful bride that our first dance, while nice, wasn't the same with a hundred people staring at us. And our first kiss, while also very nice, was a little nerve-racking in front of such a large crowd."
"Hmm," I mused, looking at up at him from my position on the bed. I stood up slowly as he pulled me toward him, bringing me close so that I could feel his chest rise and fall against me. I was breathing quickly now, and I was waiting for him to move, to say something. He breathed deeply into my hair, and I felt my body tense, quivering with anticipation. Usually I just threw myself at him like the hormone-driven creature I was, but sometimes Edward liked to slow things down, to test my limits. He had that power over me, and he used it often, and he used it well.
He kept one of my hands in his, and moved the other to its familiar place around my waist. I finally looked up at him, and his face was radiant, but expression was inscrutable. His eyes were the most brilliant green, deep and penetrating and mysterious. I took in a ragged breath and my face lit up like a fireworks display, as I realized with utter mortification how obviously aroused I was. I wouldn't be the one teasing him tonight.
"So, Bella" he said softly. "Will you dance with me?"
I just smiled and nodded, like the complete smitten idiot I was. I was a ridiculously inept dancer, but in Edward's arms, I was just…his. And I was good at that.
We moved slowly, languidly, to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. I let him lead me, moving in rhythm with his body and his slow, deliberate steps. He was so close and warm and real, and I was content to just melt into him and forget about all the other shit going on in our lives.
"I love you, Edward," I murmured against his chest.
"I know," he said, breathing into my hair and pulling me closer. "I love you more than you could possibly imagine."
I gasped at the slight urgency in his touch, and I realized that neither one of us was really dancing anymore. I registered the look on his face and stood on my toes and pulled him down to me, giving in to a slow, deep kiss that spread like fire through every one of my nerve endings. I was feeling my own urgency now; I threw my whole body into him, gripping his hair tightly and forcing him into me. I heard a low moan in his throat as I crushed myself against him with everything I had.
"Glad the wedding party didn't see this," he said breathlessly when I pulled away, desperate for air. His lips were red and swollen and wet from my all-out assault, which made me want him even more. I barely gave him a chance to register my sly, devious smile that told him how much I wanted this, wanted him.
His easy smile turned serious as he felt me push him gently back toward the bed, easing him onto the downy blue comforter. He watched as I pulled his shirt over his head, slowly but deliberately. I admired the perfect curves of his chest, the smooth, damp skin that I explored with my fingers. Then I removed my own shirt in much the same fashion—slowly, calculatingly, so that I could see him respond to me before my eyes. His eyes widened slightly and his breathing quickened, and if I had been so bold as to look a little further south, I would have seen some very telling evidence of his reaction to me. But I always got a little shy at this point, when the clothes came off and I found myself dictating things, because I never felt like I knew what I was doing. But this time I resolved to push through all that insecurity bullshit, and show Edward that I loved him, that I would never leave him, that he was mine and I was his…
I pushed him gently again and he sat on the bed, leaning backwards on the fabric. I climbed up onto his lap and straddled him with my legs, feeling him right where I wanted him, kissing him slowly as I shifted my weight against the very noticeable bulge in his pants. He moaned as I did that, which he followed by grabbing my hips and generating a steady rhythm that made me yelp a little bit, because I wasn't expecting that.
And so now we were both in control, sort of, but I wanted more and he wanted more and this always seemed to happen when it was just the two of us, away from everyone and everything else. I was panting now, and I was impossibly wet and aroused and I was so annoyed at myself for wearing jeans. I needed more friction than this; soon, the ache down there would turn into an all-out throbbing.
I was still devising a plan for removing the rest of my clothes when Edward suddenly shifted me off his lap and threw me—gently but aggressively—onto the bed and hovered over me, so that our bodies were no longer touching. I almost whined in frustration, like a spoiled child that was being deprived of something she really, really wanted.
"Edward," I whimpered.
"Don't worry, love," he said. "I'm not neglecting you."
And then he unbuckled my jeans and pulled them down, and I was lying beneath him in the rather inconsequential clothing that remained. I wanted to rip it off for him, but that would probably make him wonder what happened to shy, demure Bella. She was still here, but she was often overpowered by lusty, hormonal Bella at times like these.
"I don't want to neglect you either," I replied, undoing the buckle on his jeans and pulling them down as he did the rest. His boxers had my college logo on them, a herd of little bulldogs, and I giggled.
"You'll pay for that," he growled. He bent his head toward my face, but instead of kissing me on the mouth as I had expected, he began trailing his lips all over my face and neck, up and down the skin that was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat, over my collarbone and down to the edge of my bra. He danced over the skin with his hot, ragged breath, and I grabbed him by the hair, begging for more. I wanted him on me instead of around me; I wanted that silly piece of underwear gone.
So, as I expected, given the intensity of the hair pulling and the wild bucking of my hips, he unclasped my bra and took my breasts in his mouth, kissing and biting and sucking, driving me insane. I moved my hand from my side to take his cock in my hand, to reciprocate just a little bit, but he swatted it away with a growl.
"One thing at a time," he said huskily.
Then he continued his kissing assault on my wet, writhing body, finding the edge of the cottony fabric and biting it gently, teasingly. I moaned again, louder this time, wanting him to continue but needing him to stop, because I needed to tell him that I didn't want to come this way…
"Edward," I managed to gasp, finding his arm with my hand.
He mumbled something, but didn't stop. He finally removed the last of my clothing and slid it slowly down my legs, over my knees and ankles and tossed the little sliver of fabric into a corner.
"Edward," I said more loudly this time, although my head was so clouded with the smell and feel and sight of him that I couldn't exactly think straight.
"I don't want…you to do this…tonight," I gasped, meaning the truly divine talent Edward possessed for using his tongue in certain places.
He probably had an idea this conversation was coming, but I didn't think he expected it at this very moment. And, yes, it was poorly timed, but I had been distracted before, and I had to say it now because I wanted it now. I had wanted it for a long time, but we had waited, because we were young and Edward was a very patient, practical person. He was certainly a lot more patient than I was.
"Then what do you want?" he asked, hovering over my naked form as he studied my expression.
"You know what I want, Edward," I said, my voice firm but also anxious, waiting for his reaction.
"I want us to…have this…before you go away," I continued. And it was true. I wanted Edward to have all of me, in every physical and emotional way, before he went to another place and my company was replaced by that of strangers.
"Are you sure, Bella?" he asked, slight concern creasing his face. I was kind of glad that Edward took sex so seriously; his dad was a doctor, after all, and he must have gotten quite a few stern lectures on the subject. But I think he waited for me for other reasons. I think he wanted it to mean something much more than the act itself.
"Edward," I murmured. "How could there possibly be any doubt of that?"
I wrapped my hands gently around the back of his neck, pulled him to me and kissed him delicately, wordlessly. I loved him and wanted him and I didn't need to tell him that; of course he already knew.
"Okay," he said, as I broke the kiss and fell back again onto the bed. "But I didn't bring—"
"I'm on the pill," I said.
"You are?" he cocked an eyebrow, scrutinizing my shy smile.
"Um…anticipatory precautions," I explained.
He smiled in spite of himself, shaking his head slightly.
"Well, that's good," he said. "But I'm going to continue what I was doing….because the rest of it probably won't be all that great for you." He winced a bit, anticipating what a first time was like for a girl. I had heard all kinds of things from Alice and even Rosalie, but I had a feeling they were giving me a watered-down version.
"But—" I started.
"Don't argue with me, Bella," his tone playful but firm.
And then he kissed me quickly and raked his hands along the length of my body, following with his mouth and lips and tongue. He spent a considerable amount of time at the expanse of skin where my legs ended and my core began, which of course tortured and thrilled me all at once. I moaned his name softly, biting my lip to keep from crying out. I was so used to keeping my mouth shut in our houses that it never occurred to me how alone we really were, how I could scream at the top of my lungs and no one but the wildlife would hear me.
As I pondered the wildlife in a desperate attempt to stave off my climax because I wanted this to last, he suddenly thrust his tongue directly onto the bundle of nerves that was now hot and wet and sensitive as hell, and I let go of my bottom lip and gave in to myself. His name came out in a husky, throaty plea that intensified his efforts as he massaged my clit with his tongue, penetrating me with his fingers as I groaned in pleasure. I strengthened my grip on his shoulders and ran my fingers through his hair, bucking my hips wildly as I felt this incredible tension build between my legs. I could feel myself nearing the edge and I wanted to prolong it, to delay it like I always did, but it was hopeless and I came exactly when Edward wanted me to, caressing me with his tongue as I rode out wave after wave of sweet release. I didn't have Edward's taste for obscenities, but fuck, that was good.
I took a few seconds to restore my ability to form coherent thoughts, and then I grinned at the satisfied look on his face. I was still dizzy with lust and ecstasy and all that other good stuff that only comes from mind-blowing oral sex, but I wasn't going to waste the moment. I grasped Edward by the shoulders and crushed him into me, pleased to feel him harder than ever, his cock throbbing against my leg as I arched into him. I smiled devilishly, and then wrapped my hand around the length of him. I didn't have any basis for comparison, but he was ridiculously huge in my hand, and a hint of worry worked its way into my head as I wondered how something that massive could fit into such a tiny opening. Edward must have seen it in my face, because he caressed my cheeks with his thumb and brushed the wet hair from my eyes.
"I can stop anytime, Bella," he said softly, his gaze steady and intense.
"I'm okay," I said, catching my breath. I smiled and kissed him sweetly, hungrily.
I shifted my hips so that I could feel the tip of him against my clit, reawakening my arousal and my need for him. I could see how we fit together; I could feel it in the way I ached and throbbed and begged for him. He groaned heavily as I guided him into me, slowly, decisively. I gasped a little bit at the pressure, then winced when I felt him push into me. He hesitated, but I strengthened my hold on him and urged him to continue, to enter me freely and completely because I wanted all of him inside me. And I knew he was holding back and for once, I wanted Edward to let go of his infallible composure and lose himself in me.
He responded to my touch with a harder, deeper thrust. A little whimper escaped my throat, but I knew that he was inside me now, that the most intense of the pain had passed and there was no reason to hold back anymore. I gripped him even harder, digging my fingertips into his skin, granting him deeper, fuller entry. I challenged him and he responded, filling me to the hilt, then pulling back and thrusting again, and again. Soon he found a steady, slow rhythm that I easily matched, arching into him to feel as much of him inside me as I possibly could. I suddenly wanted more, as I always did, and I grabbed him by the ass, forcing a deeper connection. He moaned, taking in the mischievous little grin on my face.
Wordlessly, he found a different rhythm that was frenzied, intense, and hot as all hell. He was making love to me, which I felt in the way he looked at me, touched me, kissed me. But he was fucking me, too, and I liked it. A lot.
I could tell, though, that Edward was holding back because he probably remembered the grimace of pain on my face, but that was okay. There would be more opportunities for no-holds-barred fucking. But for now I was still getting used to the sensation of him, the sheer size of him, inside me, and the sight of him driving into me like the man I craved, and loved, and wanted constantly. I noticed his breaths coming in quick gasps now, his pace quicker, his penetration deeper. I knew what was coming and I responded with a faster rhythm, arching my hips into his and watching him approach his own release.
When it came, his whole body shuddered as his pace suddenly slowed and I felt him deep inside me, gripping my waist tightly as he filled me completely and maximized his release. I was trembling, too, and this incredible euphoria filled me unlike anything I had ever felt before. I was with the man I loved and this was all I wanted, all I had ever wanted. I felt safe and loved and lucky, like all the shitty things that had happened in my life up till now kind of made sense, and they were okay because it led me to this moment. I smiled because I knew I had waited my whole young life for this. And some people waited and waited, and never found it. Some people didn't know what they were waiting for. I couldn't imagine life like that.
Edward was lying on his side next to me, his arm draped over my stomach, his face in the stray wisps of my hair.
"What are you smiling about?" he asked, and I turned toward him, taking in his beautiful, contented face and his scorching, brilliant eyes.
"I don't know," I said, which was kind of true. I was having a moment, that's for sure.
"I guess I was thinking of my fifth birthday party, the one my parents got together for a weekend and took me out for pizza."
I saw his face fall slightly, and he looked a bit perplexed.
"Hmm," he mused. "Why would you be thinking that?"
"I was thinking about how I didn't think life could get any better than that," I said simply.
"Oh?" he said. And my smile widened and I knew he was on to me.
"But, I mean, that day kind of sucked compared to this one."
"Is that so?" he asked, tracing his fingers up and down my abdomen as a smile spread across his lips.
"I would say so," I replied, teasing his hair with my fingers. "But good things don't seem to last."
My smile faded a bit, as I remembered our earlier conversation and the impending doom of college. As much as I hated to think about it, especially now, especially when I had attained a state of happiness that I never even thought possible, I could only focus on its being taken away from me.
"Well, I do have a plan, remember," he said.
"So you've hammered out those details?" I asked teasingly. I sincerely doubted he even had a plan, much less a detailed one.
"I have," he said. His tone and expression were so serious that I began to feel intrigued. I waited for him to continue, still unsure if he was just messing with me.
"I told you I would rather see you intermittently than not at all," he murmured, stroking my face with his thumb. "So, at the very least, I'll see you here once a year, every year, this time, this place. And probably doing much of the same thing," he said, smiling his crooked smile.
I studied his face, reading the meaning in his eyes. His expression was genuine, heartfelt.
"But how…?" I trailed off, considering the plan.
"We'll find a way, Bella. No matter what we're doing, who we're with, where we are…we'll find a way to come back here. And if one of us doesn't come some year, then that'll be it."
"But of course we'll come. We'll still be together."
"Bella, just humor me here. It doesn't matter what's going on the other 363 days of the year. I'm just setting up a plan so that for 2 days, no matter what, I get to see you."
"Hmm," I said, considering it.
"In fact, I'm keeping the old rule. No discussion of outside lives, people, things, places, jobs, whatever. And of course, when we get home, we can't talk about this place."
"I struggle with that rule," I said weakly.
"I know you do, and that's okay. A little slippage is not a big deal," he teased.
I considered the idea in silence, resisting the urge to determine some logistics and figure out how the hell I would be able to make it all the way up here on some random days in August every year. And I wasn't even sure if Edward was serious, but it definitely didn't sound like a joke. Plus, I liked the idea of revisiting this place and these memories for, well, the rest of my life.
"Okay," I said. "Same place and time next year, then?"
He kissed me on the forehead, then lay back down on the pillow, pulling me into the crook of his neck. His body was so close, so warm; I loved the feel of it, the absolute absence of solitude. I realized that if I stayed here, I would never feel lonely again.
"Yes," he whispered, pulling the covers over us as the breeze fluttered through the window. "Same time next year."
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Oh jeez, I'm such a sap. Please review, it would mean a lot to me (and thank you to those who have been!).
