Where your page meets mine
Disclaimer- Unfortunately, my mind is not creative enough to come up with the masterpiece that is Twilight (and partially don't want to miss a thing). Instead, it just borrows the Twilight characters for recreational purposes.
Chapter 9:
Bella watched, bleary-eyed, as Emmett was dragged from the club shouting profanities at the top of his lungs, directed wholly on Edward who was retreating into the throngs of swaying hips. The pain had worn off almost immediately, but the shock hadn't. How could Emmett do something like this to her? He was so sweet, and charming, and caring. She thought of him as an older, protective brother, yet he'd betrayed her so easily and punched her square in the face. Although she despised the thought, maybe Edward had been right.
"I'm sorry, Bella!" Emmett bellowed, thrashing against the security guards restriction, "I didn't mean to hit you. I thought you were one of these bastards!" He threw his head to the side, gesturing towards the guards with stony faces and fixed gazes. Could he be telling the truth? She wasn't sure, but there was one thing she was sure of and that was the fact that she wasn't angered by Emmett -maybe his actions but not him as a being. It was her fault that she'd gotten in the way. This revelation brought another round of tears to her eyes as her body sagged to the floor in defeat. She was still for a few seconds, letting the tears openly cascade down her cheeks, sobs rack her body and whiney sounds escape her lips before someone came and laid a gentle hand over her forehead, checking her temperature and inspecting the damage done.
"Where does it hurt, Bella?" Came Jasper's soothing voice from seemingly nowhere. She shook her head numbly.
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and her breathing began to accelerate as she thought of Emmett and his battered and bruised face. Edward was probably just as bad. Maybe even worse. The thought sickened her and sent tremors to her stomach.
It was all so confusing for her; she'd never been hit before, except by her ex-boyfriend- Riley. He was a grade A dickhead –which suited him to a T since he thought with his dick and not with his brain. She'd found him in bed with another girl after he'd told her not to come over because he was supposedly 'sick'. He'd sure been puking up his juices when Bella had arrived, although they weren't the ones she was expecting.
The thought of Riley only added to her hysteria as she fell back onto Jasper's chest, snivelling into his shirt uncontrollably.
A thought popped to mind as Bella hauled herself to her feet, Jasper following closely behind, "Edward. Where is he?"
Jasper sighed, "He's at the bar."
She followed his line of vision to see Edward sitting alone at the bar, swilling a clear substance around in a half empty glass, his eyes unseeing.
She hastily clawed away the tears in her eyes before waltzing towards him, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Mind if I take a seat?" Bella said in a small voice, waiting for his reply. When he didn't make a move to acknowledge her, she sighed and took a seat beside him, immune to the look in his deep eyes telling her to leave him alone for the time being.
"Whatcha got there?" She asked, gesturing towards the glass in his hand. He shrugged his slump shoulders in defeat. Bella, wanting to get some sort of reaction from him, pried the glass from his fingers and downed the sour liquid in one, her face puckering up into a scowl minutely from the sour taste.
She watched as he leaned over the bar and signalled the nearest waitress, ordering another two of what she'd just downed- a martini.
Slack jawed, she took the newly arrived cocktail glass from his warm hands and tentatively took a small sip, still reeling from the strong taste. Not once did she take her eyes off of him, and he her.
He admired her, amused by her forwardness considering her condition, as she took one of the olives off of the cocktail stick and stuck it in her mouth, savouring what he thought to be a vile taste. Never in his life had he been turned on so much by food -more astoundingly a wretched olive.
There was no doubt in Edward's mind that the blonde he was currently dancing with was beautiful, but, for some odd reason, he preferred brunettes at this moment in time. It was a strange feeling for him, he'd always preferred blondes, and suddenly, his views were changing. He was changing.
He spotted Bella sipping at her martini at the bar and smiled to himself, casting the girl aside and striding towards Bella with uneven steps. He was a little tipsy.
He offered her his hand, and, without hesitation, she clamped her fingers around his, watching, flushed, as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. As he raised his face to meet hers, she noticed the slight bruising and the dried blood smeared on his face and hands, but she couldn't be sure since she was insanely drunk and the vibrant neon lights were flashing behind her eyelids.
Bella's breathing was laboured and hot on his neck, sending shivers down his spine despite the clamminess of the club. Her hips were swaying from side-to-side, capturing Edward's undivided attention. Bella was unabashedly drunk and more carefree then he'd ever known her to be. She'd loosened her corset –meteorically speaking- and let her usually reserved wild side show.
Edward had reminded himself repeatedly that he wasn't her father. That he shouldn't feel so possessive of her and all of the males wandering eyes that always seemed to be trained on her curvy-in-all-the-right-places figure. But, now, he was beginning to have enough. He wasn't her father, and he most definitely didn't want to be, but he cared for Bella, like a brother did for his sister. So, as he halted their dance moves as the song came to a close, Bella peered up at him through her lashes and pushed her bottom lip out into a pout.
Leaning down, he whispered in her ear quietly, his lips brushing her lobe, "It's getting late, we need to get you home."
"But I don't want to go home yet." She pouted further, leaning into him, giggling like a thirteen year old meeting her celebrity crush, "Can't we stay for just a little longer, Edward. Pretty please?" She span around, sensing his weakness, and grinded her ass all over his groin. He hissed in return and she bit her lip as his arms encircled her, preventing her from moving.
She'd crossed an unwritten line and now she was dealing with the aftereffects.
"I'm sorry, Edward." She whined, "I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay, don't worry about it." He reassured her harshly, holding his breath, but, already, he could sense the tightening in his jeans and the straining of his member. "Let's just go home."
Bella felt terrible for the way she'd treated Edward. She'd never acted so out of line and, quite frankly, it scared her. Edward was a huge mystery she had not yet resolved and she could feel herself opening up to him like never before. It had taken her awhile to finally talk to Alice; in fact, she still hadn't really found safe ground with her parents, her very flesh and blood. And yet this Adonis walks into her life and worms her way inside her heart, rooting there. He was like the brother she never had and that thought made her queasy, made her feel sick to the stomach.
She nodded her head and grabbed his elbow for leverage, stumbling her way home with Edward holding onto her to help balance her. How was it that they'd each had the same equally distributed alcohol, and she was completely incoherent and he was somewhat himself? Was he really that unaffected or was he just used to it? She didn't know.
As they stumbled arm in arm down the concrete sidewalk, Bella felt Edward wrap one of her arms around his neck and one of his arms around her waist, supporting her weight almost entirely. Her eyes were drooping now and she was finding it hard to stay awake and composed. What would her parents think? Her stomach twisted yet again.
"I vomited in my hair," Bella's muffled voice sounded in Edward's ear, her head leaning on his forearm, "does my hair stink?"
Edward chuckled, tightening his grip on her. Of course, Bella hadn't vomited. At least he didn't think she had, and he'd been with her for the most part of the night, so he was fairly sure his assumptions were correct. "No." He replied soothingly.
"You never even smelled it." Bella slurred drunkenly, although her voice still held the all so familiar authority it possessed when she was sober.
"I've got a super enhanced sense of smell." Edward informed her, stifling his impending laughter.
Bella snorted, her sounds muffled by his bare arms, since he'd draped his jacket over her shoulders to keep her warm. "That's impossible."
"Anything is possible if you just believe." He said in a goofy voice, reciting his childhood all-time favourite movie- Pinocchio. Although his sister was the only person that knew that, and now, she was dead. He shuddered.
"Jiminy Cricket, Edward? Really?" Bella giggled, halting her laughter as she considered something, "Did you know that the higher the temperature, the more chirps a minute a cricket generates?"
Edward was, once again, taken aback by her general knowledge. How could someone so young and innocent be so smart and instantly attractive? Edward sighed and shook his head, stopping when he realised that they were outside their respective homes.
He sighed, removed his key from his pocket and unlocked his door, guiding Bella upstairs to his bedroom- since the spare room had yet to be refurbished and Maddie's room only held a cot, no bed. He mentally reminded himself to paint Madeline's room in the near future, a pale pink or pearly white.
The plan was that Bella would spend the night at Alice's, but since Alice had disappeared after Jasper's appearance, Bella would be spending the night at his place. He was thankful for his domestication earlier, unknowing that he would be having guests.
He helped her undress and change into one of his t-shirts, but there was nothing romantic about it- he was simply helping a friend in need.
Edward slipped into his room, which Bella had resided to, with a glass of water and some Tylenol to sooth Bella's soon-to-be raging headache as she slept peacefully. He carefully positioned them on the nightstand and was about to leave the room to lock up, when he saw he face deep in sleep. There was a small smile in place on her pursed lips and the covers were up to her neck, concealing her body from him and trapping the warm air in place. Her face looked so angelic and smooth and he found it almost unpreventable to not reach out his hand and stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. So he didn't hold back on his desires. Her skin was soft to touch and she seemed to cocoon herself into the palm of his hand, revelling in the feeling of his warm skin.
He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before peeling himself from the bed, knowing that he'd end up climbing under the covers with her.
"Edward." Bella stirred in her sleep as Edward froze and span on his heel, already trying to conjure up a feasible reason for his actions when he realised that she was still breathing heavily and her eyes were closed in sleep. He sighed in relief, flopping down onto the window bay seat, already sensing his heart rate slowly easing itself to it natural speeds.
What Edward didn't realise is that Bella had been feeling exactly the same thing earlier on in the night when he was dancing the night away with the slutty Blondie on the dance floor. The blonde girl, in her skanky getup, was clinging to him like a lifeline, for which Bella was mildly upset about. It wasn't like she was jealous of Edward; she was just concerned that he'd do something he'd regret in the morning. That's what she'd told herself at least.
