Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.
Word Count: 67341
A/N: This chapter was a bitch to write—when I actually managed to find the time to work on it—and has gone through a couple major re-writes. It was originally about 3-4k longer, but it just wasn't working, so I cut it out. I apologize for the major wait and for delivering a shorter chapter than normal despite that. It may look like things aren't getting better yet, but they are actually on their way up, it's just going to take a little time. These two characters have gotten themselves into a fine little mess, and there are no easy fixes for their situation, but it's coming.
I can't express enough my appreciation to V for betaing, and to Char for keeping this chapter and all the others from sucking, but I will never stop trying.
Finally, thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing. Now, on with the show.
Enjoy.
Chapter 10 – Replacement
Oh, my lover, look what you've done,
You've gone and took your love away…
…It started as an honest attraction,
Began under the guise of a flirt,
Till you were screaming, at the edge of the bed,
"Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt…"
…Oh, my lover, the clock runs slow
Ever since the day you went away,
And though I've tried a hundred ways to forget you,
Still the emptiness is always the same
No matter who is laying beside me,
All it does is make me wish it were you,
And if I close my eyes tight, I can almost pretend
And, for a moment, it's as if it were true…
…You can pin it all on me,
The blame is mine to bear
With all the things I've done to you,
We're far beyond repair,
But still sometimes I think of us,
And how things fell apart
And how you knew, from the first kiss,
That I would break your heart…
- She Wants Revenge
Previously
"Yeah—but only if you want."
"Yeah…okay," he said with a nod, bending to pick up the blanket from off the ground, and then making his way to the log and sitting down in his spot beside me.
.
~∞Ѿ∞~
.
…I say my hell is the closet I'm stuck inside, can't see the light…
When my ass hit the surface of the frozen log, my balls retreated into my body and my dick tried to turn itself inside out to join them. Seriously, how was she not freezing her ass off? Thinking she had to be cold, and not wanting her to catch one, I unfolded the blanket I had brought with me (mostly as an excuse to follow her) and flung it over her lap. She looked at me questioningly.
…keep it locked up inside don't talk about it; t-t-talk about the weather…
I shrugged. "You looked cold."
With a small smile, she quietly replied, "Thanks," and then looked away to gaze across the creek; I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat, hunkered my shoulders against the cold, and followed suit. We drifted in the semi-silence of the forest—together, but apart—neither of us knowing what to say or how to start. There was just so much to say.
…so much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say, ohhh, open up my head and let me out little baby…
Finally…
"Oh…come here!" she blurted, annoyed. Raising the edge of the blanket, she held it open for me, shrugging as she said, "It's a big blanket. We're both adults; we can share."
I didn't move—she couldn't be serious?—just sat there, freezing, and continued to stare, trying to figure her out.
…'cos here we have been standing for a long, long time…
"Edward, stop being such a martyr. You're cold, you packed an enormous blanket all the way out here—there's no reason for you to freeze."
"I'm not…" I started, but the expression on her face stopped me. "Fine," I consented, scooting closer to her, but not too close, and covering myself with the offered edge of the blanket.
…treading trodden trails for a long, long time…
Silence descended again, only this time decidedly more awkward and tense. We were like mirror images, both of us so aware of the close proximity of the other, and of the blanket covering us, that we couldn't relax. The entire left side of my body tingled painfully—it was like that pins and needles feeling you get when the blood rushes back into your limb after it falls asleep. It wasn't pleasant, but I welcomed it because of what it meant—that Bella was beside me.
Bella was, once again, the one to break the silence…because I was too pussy to do it myself. "So…Charlotte seems – nice."
Abort! Abort! my mind screamed…but I didn't listen.
…I find sometimes it's easy to be myself; sometimes I find it's better to be somebody else…
"She is," I agreed, because it was true; Charlotte was nice. Too nice. But she's not you, I wanted to add, only didn't. Couldn't. Or wouldn't.
…one year of crying and the words creep up inside, creep into your mind yeah…
Lapsing into silence again. It was the calm before the storm, my mouth seconds away from overriding my ass. "Jacob seems like a dick." What? It wasn't as if it wasn't true. Fucking cocksucker.
Grabbing two handfuls of her hair, she tugged on it—a gesture I was intimately familiar with because it was mine—and groaned. "Arghh! Seriously, Edward? God! That's so, so – like you! Did you ever stop and consider that maybe you're the one who's the dick? Jacob's great."
She stopped for a moment, thinking, and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter; softer, but no sweeter. In that short length of time, the spark in her eyes had died. Now she just seemed defeated, resigned, and it crushed me because I knew I'd done that to her. Unable to bear looking at the beautiful girl I'd broken, I hung my head in shame.
"He's good to me—good for me. He really loves me, and he makes me happy." A bit of her previous temper returning, her voice held an edge when she added, "Not that it's any of your business; I don't need to justify my relationships or my life to you. I don't owe you anything. I've moved on. We both have, so what does it even matter, and why do you even care?"
I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it looked like he was 'good to you' last night before dinner when he manhandled you in the hallway. You remember that, don't you? It was right before he dragged you into the den, all pissed off and pushy-like?" Another laugh, although nothing I was saying was funny. "And I know I'm a dick, Bella—I never claimed I wasn't—but…fuck! I care because… You know what, forget it. You're right, it's none of my fucking business."
Standing abruptly and flinging the blanket off me as I rose, I turned to go—probably should have kept going, but I didn't. Stopping after a single step, I told her, "You're wrong, though. We haven't both moved on..." I closed my eyes and took a breath, "and it does matter. It's the only thing that matters." You're the only thing that matters, was what I really wanted to say, but I couldn't quite bring myself to speak those words aloud.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
.
I stalked off, aware that I was running away, but not giving a shit. It was better that I left; anger and heartbreak were a volatile combination, and I was trying not to do more damage than I'd already done. It felt imperative that I prove to Bella that I'd changed, that I could be someone worthy of her—even if I never got her back—because I just couldn't live with the thought of her hating me. If all I could ever have of her was civility and her good opinion (table scraps compared to what we used to have and what we could have had)…well, at least it was something. I had no pride left, and beggars can't be choosers.
My stride was purposefully long and ground-covering, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible so that when I changed my mind and went rushing back to her, I had time to regain my sanity and turn back around. I must have turned around at least a half a dozen times—sometimes angry and wanting to give her a few more pieces of my mind, other times my fury turned inward and I wanted to throw myself prostrate at her feet—but I never made it more than a few strides before my pendulous emotions would swing the other direction and I would turn back around.
The grueling pace I'd set for myself helped take the edge off, and as my anger cooled, my pace began to slow. I was all but crawling down the path when I was surprised by her swift step behind me. Fathoming a guess as to where she was off to in such a hurry caused my blood to boil. I didn't want to see her rushing off to him, and I couldn't imagine that she would be happy to see me, but it was too late to hide; I would just have to grin and bear it. Well, maybe not grin. Taking deep breaths and attempting to think calm, rational thoughts about not killing the pup, I steeled myself for her passage.
It was a lot harder than I imagined it would be; her presence was like a physical blow, and no matter how used to being struck one is, it isn't something you're ever quite prepared for. Briefly, I pictured myself diving headfirst into the dense brush to either side of the trail, and then the jig was up; the time spent imagining it, was the very thing that prevented it. If the weight of her stare on my back hadn't been enough to alert me that I'd been spotted, the hitch in her giddy-up as her sure step faltered certainly did the job. And then she stopped…and I stopped nearly everything, not sure what the fuck would come next.
"What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Cullen?" she yelled at my back.
It took a moment for her words to actually sink in. I was one step behind, still processing the fact that she hadn't walked right on by as if I wasn't there, so having her address me, seriously fucked me in the head. My mental capacities were brought to a standstill, the line, 'You talkin' to me?' ringing in my ears on repeat. When I did finally absorb what she'd said, not even registering the harshness of her tone, I was confused. I understood what she'd said, could have repeated it back to her, but it made so little sense to me that it might as well have been gibberish.
Not knowing what the fuck she was talking about, but knowing I was going to be forced to hear her out (curiosity may have killed the cat, but what they forgot to mention was that the cat was such a masochistic fuck that he didn't mind) I just stood there, waiting—hoping—for her to elaborate. But she didn't. I sighed deeply, realizing that she wasn't going to make this easy or painless for me, and then turned to face her, my eyes locked on the ground near her feet.
"What was what supposed to mean, Bella? I don't have a clue what you're talking about, so I'm going to need you to fill me in," I explained, closing my eyes, resigned to my fate. Expecting to see no more of her than the tips of her shoes at the edge of my moss-filled vision, my eyes bugged out of my head when they were met with her boobs instead. I quickly dropped my eyes back to the ground, the tips of her toes nearly touching the tips of mine, front and center.
"You," I didn't need to see her to know the look on her face; I could hear the sneer in her voice, "implying that I haven't moved on because, for your information, I have and I'm very happy—the happiest I've ever been, actually—so fuck you, you arrogant, cocky ass!" She advanced on me as she shouted, jabbing my chest with two fingers every word or three for emphasis. I couldn't follow her logic; what I'd said and where she was leaping to were light years away from each other, and it perturbed me to no end.
Between my generally shitty mood and her accusations, my anger was starting to flare up—little hot spots here and there, catching and igniting—but growing alongside my irritation was numbness, and the combination of the two left me feeling too weary to even muster the willpower to fight with her. I abdicated to her—fine, whatever you say, Bella—closing my ranks and retreating with each poke, until I found my back against a tree, leaving me with nowhere to go.
"You never really had me, anyway," she finished vehemently, her cheeks flushed with cold and fury, and it was like I'd been shocked with a defibrillator, the resulting jolt enough to push back the numbness that had begun creeping over me.
"Oh, I never really had you, Isabella?" I growled, rising to my full height and leaning towards her so that I pushed against her fingers. "Really? Because I seem to remember having every part of you, in every way imaginable."
Turning the tables on her, I grasped her shoulders and switched our positions. Once her back was against the tree, caged by my arms and my body pressed as close to hers as possible without actually touching her, I began reminding her of all the ways I'd had her.
"All those times I had you bent over my couch with my dick buried inside you," I whispered in her ear. My lips just barely grazed her ear and she shivered. "After graduation with my hand up your skirt at the dinner table." I traced the tip of my nose from her hairline to her jaw, ghosting across that spot behind her ear that I knew made her crazy. "That time I licked your sweet pussy on the football field. Your lips wrapped around my cock just about every time we were alone in my car like you couldn't get enough of me…I couldn't get enough of you, either."
She was trembling against me, breathing heavily, but she was stiff in my arms, still resisting what her body and heart…I hoped…knew she wanted, but her mind wasn't wanting to let them have.
"That's n-not what I m-meant, and you know it," she told me shakily, but I ignored her, scraping her jaw with my teeth instead, causing her to whimper and then melt against me as all the fight seemed to leave her. It still wasn't enough, though; she had yielded, but she wasn't participating, and it made me feel as if I was taking something from her when I wanted her to give it to me. I wanted her passion, her love, her everything. And I wanted to stop sounding like a Goddamned Lady Gaga song. Finally, she did.
Her arms snaked around my neck, and her fingers twined in my hair, pulling my mouth to hers before kissing me furiously. I gave myself over to the heat building between us, allowing Bella's rough tugs on my hair to tilt and push and pull, guiding my mouth to where she wanted it. The pressure I was feeling quickly became too much; it needed to be released before I exploded. Bending my knees, I pressed myself against her, both of us groaning from the sensation, and my head fell against her shoulder. Still, I needed more, so I yanked her leg up until her knee hooked over my hip, bending my knees to make her more comfortable.
Bodies pressed together as tightly as possible—all the important parts perfectly aligned—I straightened my knees a bit, mashing my hard-on against her as I lifted my knees so that I dragged the length of my hard dick along the length of her. Her back bowed, pushing her further into me and creating even more hot fucking friction. Bella hissed, releasing my bottom lip from her teeth as her head fell back against the tree behind her, so I did it again. And again. And again. And again.
There was a minute or two, where I checked out; no longer inhabiting my body, I leaned against a nearby tree and watched us grind against each other as I thought about everything that had led to this situation. It had been a rash, impulsive decision that led me to rush out of the house when I saw Bella sneaking off to the woods and, while it was true I didn't want Bella to get sick, neither of us were fooled by the weak excuse I gave for being there. And then we had fought and I'd run off, only to have her chase me down to fight again.
Actually, I was pretty sure we were still fighting, and I could only hope that all of our fights, from that point on, were fought like that. Some logical part of my mind—the part that wasn't my dick—told me that this was too much, too quick, that it would blow up in my face, but I couldn't stop; it had been so long. Too long. There wouldn't be any fucking, it was too cold for that, but it didn't matter, what we were doing was more than enough. Probably too much, but I was going to make sure she didn't regret it.
Just like that, I was back in the moment; the time for introspection had passed. I hadn't been lost inside my head long for anything to have really changed. We had found a decent rhythm—one that made my dick anxious for more even though it wouldn't be happening; we were more than just sex…present circumstances notwithstanding—that had both of us panting and me seeing stars, but her head was still back against the tree and her eyes were closed. I needed her to look at me, to stay with me, be with me, but I was terrified to do anything to break the spell she was under. Just as it was becoming too much—my enjoyment and pleasure about to be eclipsed by my need to have her look at me—Bella lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine.
"Bella," I whispered—a prayer, a confession, a declaration, a question, a curse, a plea, and thanks all rolled in one.
She sucked in a breath, and with fluttering eyes, tilted her head back briefly, as she moaned, "Oh, God."
It wasn't my name like I'd been hoping to hear, but it did the trick; my cock throbbed. I pressed against her harder. Oh, fuckgodsogood!
"Ed…" she started, and it was so good, I could have sworn I felt a vibration buzz between us.
Her half-lidded eyes shot open, and she cut my name off with a startled gasp. Suddenly, Bella's hands stopped pulling me to her, and started pushing me away. It was such a startling reversal that it took my hormone and Bella-filled brain a second to catch up. I was like the live television delay. Thanks, Janet…oh, and, uh…thank you, Ms. Jackson.
"Edward – Edward, stop. S-stop!" She dropped her hands to my shoulders and shoved hard, the tree bracing her. I stumbled back a step, and reality descended, hard; I felt as if I had been slapped in the face. "I can't do this. I have to go, I was supposed to have been at Jake's an hour ago."
I dragged my hand across my mouth as I backed further away, my whole demeanor hardening. I wanted to shake her, to wake her up to what was between us, what she was walking away from, but wasn't stupid enough to try that shit. Instead, I shoved my hands into my coat pocket and kicked at a rock in the dirt with my toe.
"Yeah, right," I said awkwardly, but my voice cold, "you should probably get going."
"Right. Um, bye." She began to walk away. Stopping after two steps, she ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck. I forgot the blanket in the meadow."
"Don't worry about it, I'll go get it," I offered before she could turn around. I needed some time to clear my head, and it wasn't as if I wanted to walk with her back to the house; I didn't think either of us wanted that. "Don't want you to be later than you already are. Besides, I am the one who brought it out here."
"Uh, t-thanks," she stammered, and then started again for the house.
I didn't want her to go, but knew I couldn't make her stay. Regardless, I couldn't just watch her walk away without knowing why she was leaving—if he was an obligation or if what had just happened had been a mistake. Plus, I just didn't want her to let her go. In desperation, I shouted, "Do you love him?"
She froze. Not looking at me, she asked, "W-what?" Her tone was laced with disbelief…and something else.
"You heard me," I replied. "Do you love him?"
"Th-th-that's none of… I don't see what that has to…" She paused, collecting her thoughts so she'd quit stammering, and then huffed angrily, "I'm not going to play these little games with you, Edward."
Finally turning to face me, her expression was unreadable. "Look, with the wedding coming up, we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other. Let's just pretend that this—" she waved her hand "—little mistake never happened. We're going to have to learn how to get along, or at least tolerate one another. Things are going to be awkward enough as it is, let's not make everybody else miserable. It shouldn't be that hard to play nice. After all, we used to be pretty good friends…"
I snorted and interrupted her, "That's what you're going to call it? I'd say we were more than pretty good friends, Bella."
Her mouth formed an 'o', still holding the shape of the word that had died on her lips, and her face heated to a delicate shade of pink for a moment or two. I could tell the exact moment the anger kicked in, though. Her eyes narrowed and her face went incarnadine, and then she snapped at me, "Well, 'fuck buddies' isn't exactly appropriate for polite company, nor are any of the other labels I can come up with, so 'friends' is going to have to do."
She closed her eyes as she shook her head, and then continued as if I'd never interrupted, prompting her outburst. "For Emmett's sake—since I know you couldn't give a shit less about Rose…or anyone else for that matter—let's just try to fake it and then, once this wedding shit is over with, we can go back to our own corners and pretend the other one doesn't even exist."
"Whatever you say, Bella." I didn't know what to say. What to think. What to feel. Well, besides sick, my guts twisting up and a lump forming in my throat that was so big I could hardly get the words out.
She nodded before turning and quickly walking away. This time, I didn't stop her, just watched her go.
…well, I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand. Did it make it any easier to leave me where I stand…?
When I couldn't see her any longer, I headed back to the meadow for the blanket. Unlike my walk away from the meadow, my temper grew with every step I took back towards it. By the time I arrived, my anger was simmering just below the surface, and I decided it was best for me to cool my heels there for a while. I wanted to make sure that she was really gone before I went back. I wanted a drink. I wanted…something. I wanted her.
…Where'd you come from? Where am I going? Why'd you leave me 'til I'm only good for...waiting for you. All my sins...I said that I would pay for them if I could come back to you…
I thought about many things while I sat there, my nose buried in the blanket, hoping for just a whiff of her. I thought about dinner and the days leading up to it, how I'd tried my damndest to get out of going, even trying to switch shifts with someone at the hospital but in the end, all of my efforts had failed; it was as if the universe was conspiring against me, against us…Bella and I.
Charlotte had flipped when she'd heard about the schedule thing, and we'd gotten into a huge fight. I couldn't really blame her, though; even I could see that my actions looked circumspect. Not that it made me back down; I stood my ground because backing down would have been as good as admitting my guilt, that her fears weren't without basis, which would start up a whole new thing, and I just wasn't interested in going down that path.
"What the fuck is your issue with not wanting to go to dinner at your parents'? I don't get it."
"You don't need to get it, it has nothing to do with you—I just don't want to go," I hedged.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Edward," she replied, tapping her toe in aggravation as if I owed her an explanation. She increased the force of her toe tapping until it sounded like a metronome, or my very own Tell-Tale Heart, and I caved, blurting out what she wanted to hear just to shut her up.
"Fine! It's a welcome back dinner for Bella, and I just don't think it's appropriate for you to go, all right? Fuck!"
"Oh, that's just great! You don't think it's appropriate for me to go, but it's somehow okay for you to go to a dinner being held by your family for your ex – whatever she was? Your ex-fuck-buddy? That's bullshit, Edward…not to mention shady. How am I supposed to trust what you're saying under these circumstances?
"Your mother invited me—in fact, she was fairly adamant that we both attend, and I'm not just going to reject the first gesture of acceptance she's ever shown me."
"Charlotte, my mother was adamant that I be there; she simply used you to make sure it happened." I knew it was a cheap shot, but I was pissed and she was hitting too close to home about some things.
"Whatever. I don't have time for your shit right now. I'm on shift soon, so I have to go, but we're not done talking about this."
"Whatever, Charlotte," I sighed.
When we'd finally discussed it…well, when she finally discussed it with herself while I listened, she had alternated beyond scathing anger and tears. I'd take angry over weepy any day. Not caring enough to want to fight with her and no longer having the energy to rail against fate's design any longer, I'd just given in to her.
Replaying our fight in my head led me to think about how awful I had been to Charlotte, my relief when she said she couldn't go, the dread I felt when I opened the door to find her standing there, and my disgust with the way she practically pissed on my leg when she arrived, marking her territory to let Bella know I was with her.
I remembered the way I felt when Bella literally crashed into my arms—the warm, solidness of her body against mine, her delicate scent, the tingles that ran through me…as pussy as that sounds. And then, I remembered what it felt like when all of that was taken from me. She'd pulled herself free of my arms when that prick, Jake, appeared in the hallway, and had gone running to him. All of the frustration and anger boiled over. I stood, throwing the blanket off of my shoulders, and paced angrily, back and forth, across the narrow strip of ground in front of our…no, the log-bench.
The way he'd grabbed her—his fingers wrapping around her upper arm, digging into her flesh—before dragging her through the doorway of the den, glaring darkly at me the entire time he manhandled her. My fists clenched. God, I wanted to tear into him for touching her like that. The only thing that kept me from yanking his hand away from her and teaching him some manners, was the look Bella shot me, her eyes imploring me to stay where I was. If I was honest, at that moment, I'd hated her just a little for asking me to stand there and allow her to be treated that way.
Was it the first time he'd ever touched her that way? Had it happened before? Why the fuck would she choose to be with a guy like that over me? Was he hurting her just then while I was too far away to know or save her? The questions came rapid fire, along with images—real ones, gained from my spying as they said goodbye the night before, and imagined—and something violent swelled within me, needing to get out. Without thinking, I pulled my arm back and swung at the nearest thing I could find: the log-bench. The bite of the wood as it crumbled under my fist was so satisfying that I let fly with my other arm, and then the first again.
I didn't stop until I was sopping from exertion, the skin over my knuckles pulverized and the bones in my arms and shoulders ached. For minutes after I'd exhausted myself, I could still feel the force of each punch reverberating through my muscles, up the long bones of my arms and down my spine. Unclenching my right fist to push away the damp hair stuck to my forehead, I winced at the pain, but shrugged it off—it wasn't broken—and turned my attention towards surveying my opponent's condition.
A grim smile played on my face; it was satisfying that the log bore its own wounds from my brutal assault—a deep rent carved into the space between mine and Bella's customary seats—but it barely took the edge off my rage. I kept picturing what they could be doing at that moment, couldn't get all of the possibilities out of my mind, different scenarios running through my head, tormenting me, some of them ending with her crying out his name in pleasure, and some in pain. I suddenly needed to get the fuck out of Forks; I didn't think I could get far enough away.
Still seething, I snatched up the blanket, and left the meadow.
Fueled by a rage I couldn't explain or contain, I made it back to the city in record time, heading straight to Charlotte's place because I didn't want to be alone with myself.
What a mistake that would turn out to be.
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~∞Ѿ∞~
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"I thought your mother was finally warming up to me when she invited me to dinner with your family, but she barely talked to me the entire time, and when she did she was so dismissive. I don't understand why she doesn't like me, Edward. I've gone out of my way to make her like me, but that's obviously never going to happen."
"Char, she likes you just fine. I've told you, it takes her a while to warm up to people sometimes."
"Right. She virtually ignored everything I said, but she doted on Isabella. It was like I wasn't even there."
"What was she supposed to do, ignore Bella just to make you feel comfortable? She hasn't seen Bella for over a year, and it was her welcome home dinner, after all."
"What's up with that, anyway? She runs off without a word, no one hears from her for ages, and they all just welcome her back with open arms like it doesn't matter. Meanwhile, here I am trying my damndest to earn their acceptance, and they barely give me the time of day!"
I didn't like her snide, judgmental tone.
"She's practically like a daughter to them; they've forgiven me for far worse than that over the years, and it isn't as if she didn't have valid reasons for leaving. Get over it already, Char; it has nothing to do with you. I don't understand why you care so much about what they think of you."
"Because they're your family, Edward! They're important to you, and I don't have a chance in hell if they won't accept me," she finished tearfully, her tears only serving to piss me off even further.
I wanted to tell her that she didn't stand a chance in hell with me regardless of my family's acceptance, but I couldn't—I was with her now, after all…barely, sort of…and, anyway, I couldn't find it in me to be that cruel. Char had been there for me when no one else, not even my own family, had. However, I couldn't manage to curb my inner asshole entirely.
We'd been having the same conversation since practically the moment I'd walked in the door—going straight to the kitchen and grabbing a beer—and I was done with it. I was sick to death of repeating myself.
…chasing over the same old ground, what have we found, the same old fears...
And I was bone weary of having to pretend to care.
…I know your life is empty, and you hate to face this world alone…
For some unexplainable reason, her words from the night before, about me being sweet and attentive when we were in bed, were playing on repeat in my head and something about them wasn't sitting well with me. I wasn't sweet and attentive. I was barely present, mechanical, numbly making sure that she got off so that by the time I was inside of her, she wouldn't notice the way I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth until I was finished.
…so you're searching for an angel, someone who can make you whole…
Just wanting her to shut up, I pulled her to me—more forcefully than I normally would—and kissed her. It was a cheap tactic, using sex as a distraction, but I was angry and everything from the past two days was swirling around in the vortex that had become my mind: Bella, hickeys, Jake, kissing, Bella, me, kissing, groping, so hard, so warm, pulling away, leaving, wanting, needing, aching, anger, anger, angry… Adding insult to injury, playing over it all like some fucked up soundtrack, was Char's too-sweet voice…when we're naked and in bed together, you're sweet and attentive…
A switch flipped. I turned into someone else, someone only Bella had ever brought out in me, and apparently still could. I'll show her, I thought, as I tossed Char onto the kitchen table. Whether I was referring to Bella or Char, I couldn't say.
…but I am not your savior, I am just as fucked as you…
.
~∞Ѿ∞~
.
Plain and simple, I fucked her—hard; there was nothing else you could label it, calling it sex was too tame, and we most certainly did not make love…not that we ever had. The times we had been together before then, there had been at least the pretense of tenderness and even some small amount of affection. I'd always kept myself in check; coming, but not really finding release because, unlike with Bella, I couldn't let my guard down and be myself, and unlike all those nameless, faceless girls, I couldn't just use her.
None of those inhibiting factors were in play as I took her on her kitchen table, pounding into her mercilessly, relentlessly. I was all blind need and hard cock, completely lost to the driving need to come and hardly aware of the woman I was fucking. I'd like to think that had Charlotte told me to stop, I would have been present enough to have acknowledged her, but I can't say with any certainty that would have been the case because not once did I make eye contact with her or even look at her face. Hell, I'm not sure if I actually kissed her once I was buried balls deep in her wet warmth. In any case, Charlotte never once protested, so I'll never know.
Afterwards, both of us spent, I slumped over her prone body trying to catch my breath, one hand still pinning hers to the table above her head. Guilt and shame over what I'd just done descended like a guillotine, the blade drawing nearer to my throat each breath closer I drew to my body calming. Pressing my face into the crook of her neck, hiding, I felt her slowing pulse and tried in vain to force mine to follow suit. Instead, by the time her breathing had evened out, my breaths were nearly as frantic as they had been when we'd finished.
"What was that, Edward?" Charlotte demanded in a strange tone, causing the guillotine to finish its descent toward my bared neck.
"I…fuck! I don't…I'm so…" I sputtered, trying to spring away from her, but finding myself trapped by her legs and the one arm she'd managed to wrest away from me; I released her other wrist, certain I had to be hurting her. Taking a risk—not sure what I would find—I lifted my head, wild, panicked eyes darting over her body, making a hasty perusal of all the flesh I could see as I asked, "Are you – are you… Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to be so rough. I don't know what came over me." Liar.
Any further rambling from me, was prevented when Charlotte giggled. I froze. "No, silly. Calm down, Edward; I'm fine. It was just – different…I liked it." Huh. "I mean, I like what we usually do, and I don't think I would like this all the time, but…every now and then, yeah?"
I would never understand girls. I'd just fucked her without even acknowledging her—I'd used her to get my rocks off and ease my tension—and she…liked it? What the hell, man?
"Uh…yeah. Okay," I found myself saying. "Duly noted."
…my life has been a nightmare, my soul is fractured to the bone…
Had I been paying any attention, I wouldn't have been so surprised by her reaction. While I was freaking out, Char was clutching me to her, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her fingers combing through the damp hair at the base of my neck in what was supposed to be a soothing manner, but was, in actuality, smothering; I felt trapped, in so many ways.
That she was comforting me after what I'd just done—using her body to exercise my demons, fucking her with no regard for her person or enjoyment and while thinking of someone else—made the level of shame I was feeling skyrocket. Charlotte may not have been the one I wanted, but I'd never acted like that. It should have come as a relief that she was seemingly still oblivious to it, but it wasn't; I was choking and had to get out of there. I'd had no business going there in the first place.
…and if I must be lonely, I think I'd rather be alone, I think I'd rather be alone…
The excuse of needing to dispose of the condom hiding the fact that I just needed to get away from her, I pushed myself up and off of her, Charlotte whining as I did so, not ready to lose the connection of our bodies, the false sense it gave her of a deeper, emotional connection that just didn't exist.
Char remained sprawled across the table, eyes closed and a small smile of contentment on her face while I gathered up our scattered clothing, hastily dressing myself along the way. After a minute or two, when I still hadn't returned to her, Char lifted her head up, seeking me out.
"What are you doing, baby? Come back over here, don't get dressed yet."
"I should get going. I have shit to do still, and I have an early day tomorrow."
She was sitting up fully now, not bothering to cover her body, and I averted my eyes, fiddled with my belt, set her clothes beside her on the table before bending down to tie my shoes. I was an ass, maybe Bella knew what she was doing by not giving me another chance; I was unredeemable.
"You can't stay? Are you sure?" she questioned, a slight pout on her face.
…you can not save me, you can't even save yourself…
"I would, but I just really need to take care of some things at home. I'm sorry."
"Well, I could come with you, help you out so you finish faster…if you want?" If you want me, she was really saying. "We never spend time at your place."
"Not today, Char. I'm not even going straight home. I've got a ton of errands to run first, and then I really need to get some sleep before my shift. Next time, okay?"
"Okay, fine—next time," she said, her mouth set in a grim line, not meeting my eyes, not that I was trying that hard to meet hers. I needed to get the fuck out of there while I could still breathe.
"I'll call you, okay?" I said, already on my way out the door, not even kissing her goodbye.
"Sure…bye." Her voice was weak, full of dejection and a little bit of shame.
I briefly thought about turning around and making the whole thing feel less sordid—make her feel less like a whore who'd been used—by kissing her goodbye, but I didn't have it in me to do it; I was already gone.…I can not save you, I can't even save myself, so just save yourself…
.
~∞Ѿ∞~
Songs Used
(In Order of Appearance):
So Much to Say, Dave Matthews Band
Angels of the Silences, Counting Crows
Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd
Save Yourself, Stabbing Westward
Notes:
We're getting there. Sure, I could have Bella just break up with Jake and then ruin Edward and Char's apparently (from Bella's perspective) stable and happy relationship, but that would be incredibly OOC for the character. Things are slowly starting to unravel now, I just need you all to have a little patience as I set it up.
Rec's (I have not, despite how it looks, been doing that much reading—my inbox is overflowing with updates I have not gotten to, and some of these I just haven't had the chance to rec yet):
A Quiet Fire by Magnolia822
Young Pilgrims by ineedyoursway
Dangling by IcelandGirl812
Under the Same Moon by GreenEyedGirl17
Sleep Talk by newlovenewhate
Unconventional by DazzlinSparkle05
The Ace of Spades by M81170
An Undefined Affair by jayhawkbb
Breaking Bella by lo scrittore
Pressed For Time by Chele681