The house. The house; the one from her nightmare. She couldn't remember much of it – black eyes, terror, and adrenaline were all smudged and blurred – but Nora could recollect with vivid clarity the elegant, tall windows, the delicate yet steely structure. It was beautiful. Magnificent. An architecture's wet dream.
Yet all she could feel was a thrill of discomfort. The glaring reminder that Edward wasn't your average Joe. He wasn't even your average Edward – he was something. Something so obvious that it was bitterly awaiting her discovery on the tip of her tongue, she could practically taste the answer, this big reveal…
She didn't like not knowing. She didn't like feeling discomfort just because of some fancy building.
It was just a house. His home.
Nervously drumming her fingers on her crossed knee, she jumped out of the driver's seat.
A quick reminder of Edward's golden eyes and kind smile from earlier reassured her. He wasn't demonic and he wasn't luring her to her untimely death –
He was luring her to a semi-awkward marathon of gore, magic and a tonne of nudity… and why the hell did she agree to watch this with him again?
She snorted, rolling her eyes at herself. Behind her, Edward was slipping gracefully out of her car. He'd attempted – damn near ordered her – to drive them in her Volvo.
Needless to say, it hadn't gone over well with her. She may have overreacted a smidge.
"Come on," she had shouted in the school car park, "Jon actually let me drive to school this morning, so my baby is ready and raring to go!" She raised her hand for a hi-five. He stared at it blankly. Even when she wiggled her fingers.
"I can drive," he offered – or commanded, she couldn't really tell.
"I'm sure you can. But not today. I'll even drop you off here later to pick your Volvo up. Or we can drive separately, whichever."
She just grinned as he scowled down at her. Sometimes he was so broody, she wouldn't be surprised if he kept a diary that just had sad faces and black and white drawings of trees in it.
A-and then he said it.
"My Volvo is perfectly fine. I'd much prefer to drive us," he said with what he probably thought was an endearing smile. "It's the gentlemanly thing to do."
She laughed, slightly hard. For some reason, that condescending tone was not welcomed.
"You know, I'm not a meek little mouse for you to shelter."
Her tone broached caution.
"I'm not sheltering you; it's safer if I drive. I'm likely to be the better driver," he said and genuinely looked like he thought he was being kind. "I'm saying this as a conscientious friend."
It was probably the poorest choice of words since Bruce Wayne told the Joker to let Rachel go. It made her bristle. She took a step back, away from him.
"Dude, this is the twenty first century. Women are allowed to speak in public, take the pill and, oh yeah! Drive douchebags around for kicks," she raised her eyebrows pointedly. "Don't be that guy who moons everyone at feminist rallies. No one likes that guy. He's a dick."
"I'm not being sexist," he argued.
She hummed, "I'm not so sure. You're being a teeny bit controlling and insulting my driving."
"I apologise if you're offended but I don't see how honesty can be seen as controlling," he muttered, completely rigid.
She gaped at him, eye twitching before raising her hands in defeat, "Edward, please, you might as well have 'I'm Christian Grey' written on your forehead in Sharpie right now! I might actually do that to you one day, just a head's up. I mean, c'mon, do you want me to repeat your own words back to you?"
"What?"
"I don't think you meant to but your words are offensive," she finished, setting her jaw. She hadn't meant for this to turn into her ranting about sexism. She just wanted to drive her own car. She guessed, to quote Ron Burgundy, it escalated quickly. It wasn't as if all of these peeves had been bubbling under the surface - Nora just wasn't the type of person to stand back and let someone walk all over her. She despised being a doormat or looked at as a fragile, weak little girl.
She rubbed her head, all this emotional monologuing had given her a headache.
With a heavy sigh, she looked at him with what she hoped was a non-confrontational expression. "The point is that you can be polite or well-mannered, that's gravy, but in my book, chivalry is dead. Let me dance on its grave. Better yet, let me drive over it."
He didn't reply immediately, just stared at the floor in thought. Abruptly she sat down next to him, on his car's bonnet, and frowned down at her hands. If she wrote down a list of traits that made up who Nora was, then one she knew would be at the top was 'bitch'.
She turned slightly, to face him, and muttered, "I'm sorry. That was harsh – "
He cut her off, "Nora, you don't have to apologise."
She looked up at him nervously and saw understanding in his eyes. Hurt, disbelief and offence there too, but mainly acceptance and understanding.
"Really?"
He nodded, chewing his lip in thought. His eyes were downcast. "Is that really how you see me? Patronising and domineering?"
Edward's voice was aiming for casual but came across as hurt, nonetheless. Maybe it was because, being his actual friend, she could read him better, or maybe he was too deep in thought to mask his true feelings as she'd noticed he often did.
She decided to lighten the atmosphere because he needed to see this as a learning curve, not a noose.
"Oh, don't do that face at me. You look like Grumpy Cat," she chuckled, placing a hand on his rock hard arm. She waited until his brooding, golden eyes met hers and continued, "Relax, okay? It's a flaw, we all have one. Mine is that I'm too closed off, bitter and sarcastic. All in all, it makes for a person too awesome for people to handle. It's a burden I have to bear. Like Superman must carry the burden of his otherworldly abilities."
He held up his hand, "Let me get this straight, in this scenario, I'm a sadomasochistic pervert but you get to be Superman?"
She nodded wisely. "Not just in this scenario, my friend. That's our normal dynamic, I'm afraid."
He remained silent for a minute until he started shaking. Oh shit. She couldn't take back all the anger she'd thrown at him – and wouldn't; she felt like he needed to hear it before she kicked him where it hurt – the dominating behaviour wasn't exactly something she enjoyed experiencing considering she'd spent most of her life learning to be independent, and not a damsel in distress figure. But maybe, she had been a bit too harsh. Too much all at once, like when you accidentally pour too much squash into water and it doesn't dilute properly.
No one likes that.
Cringing slightly, she turned to see that… he was laughing. Silent and body shaking laughter rippled off of Edward Cullen.
Thank Christ for that. She eventually chuckled too and then just waited out his laughter.
After a few more gasps, Edward eventually turned to her with affection in his gaze that made her squirm. "Not many people are that honest with me. Not purposely, anyway. It's more refreshing than you realise. I'm not sure why, Nora, but even when everything you say should offend me, it just makes me appreciate you all the more. You're truly quite brilliant sometimes," he said, peering out in front of them, all pensieve like Dumbledore. Dumbledorian should become an adjective just to describe how wise someone could look while pensive.
His words warmed her. She'd never heard anyone say anything that genuinely nice or complimentary about her before; no one outside her family, anyway. So, she decided to do something a little vulnerable and definitely out of her comfort zone.
Slowly, like a scared rabbit, she placed her head on his cold as stone shoulder. He stiffened slightly before relaxing.
"All that affectionate crap, you know I feel the same way about you, right? Even with your BDSM fetish, you're still my friend," she mumbled, smiling as he chuckled.
"I know."
They sat there only for a few minutes but it was peaceful while it lasted. No one else was in the car park, the air was light and cold, making her nose burn red and her breath crystallise before her. When she was younger, her father always used to pretend to scold her for 'smoking one too many cigarettes' in this weather.
"This is weird, right?" She commented uncomfortably.
Edward didn't ask what she was referring to but she felt him chuckle. "Hm. I prefer the term different."
"Different," she repeated.
He smiled, she could hear it in his voice. "I promise to try and work on my condescending and dominating behaviour."
"Thanks. I promise to drive us to your house with awe-inspiring smoothness."
They both laughed for a second and silence settled again.
"Come on, we better go" she nudged him with her elbow. "I promise not to drive too fast for your delicate sensibilities."
At this, he loosened up and smirked at her, "I don't think you could handle my driving speed."
"Psh," she waved dismissively, "I've got mad skills. You don't even understand how mad my skills are. They belong in an insane asylum, I tell you."
Edward chuckled. "You realise, half the time you speak, your mouth is either blurting out a pop culture reference or being sarcastic?"
"Only half? Jesus, I'm getting lazy."
They untangled themselves, heading towards her car. Edward made a visible effort not to look disgusted at it. With a smirk and a tap of the bonnet, she opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get in.
"We'll start your twenty-first century lessons today," she grinned.
A laugh escaped Edward's mouth at her words. She frowned, amused at him, but he just shook his head and got in.
With a slam of the door, she jumped around and in the front seat quickly, chuckling lightly as Edward ever so gently perched in the passenger's.
"Was that so hard?" She cooed, turning on the radio and sighing happily as Jon's mixed CD started playing The Black Keys.
"What is this song?" Edward asked, leaning forward in apparent interest. "I quite like it."
"Didn't think it'd be your thing," she smirked, "but it's called 'Gold on the Ceiling'. Catchy, eh?"
And so, with Nora singing dreadfully along, overwhelming the sound of Edward's chuckles, they arrived at his house, with a few simple directions pointed out.
Absently, as Edward opened the front door, led her to the spacious, pristinely laid out living room, which Nora gave an appropriately awed gasp at, she slightly regretted her harshness. But then again, if she was going to be a friend, she was going to be an honest one – he would have to either call her out on her bluntness or accept it.
Jeez, she'd apparently turned into some hard-core independent woman in her free time.
Reappearing with a gigantic bag of Doritos – the spicy ones, her all-time favourite snack food – Edward quietly placed the disc into the complicated DVD player and sat, slightly stiffly, on the couch by her completely slouched body.
"Are you ready for this?" She asked seriously.
"I hope so," he replied, and then it began.
Nora loved the opening titles and may or may not have squealed a little.
Just a little.
They sat in a comfortable silence throughout the first episode, Nora scoffing the entire bowl of Doritos and barely recognising Edward's lack of appetite.
She had thought it would be weird, being in Edward's house, and she knew Jon was probably wondering who the hell her new 'pal' was considering her purposely vague text to him about being late for dinner, but it wasn't. It was just nice.
"I do not like Joffrey."
She nodded in agreement. "Nobody does."
Minutes later, "He pushed him out of a window!"
"And he's also having sex with his twin sister, man. Prioritise your indignation."
Then, suddenly, with tired eyes, realising with shock that they'd watched not one episode, but four – she'd been sitting, unmoving for four bloody hours, Jesus Christ her legs were numb – Nora turned with a slightly manic grin to her neutrally faced friend.
"Well?" she demanded as soon as the credits and awesome music played on screen.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It was quite good. Addictive, certainly."
"Quite? Quite?! There's no quite about it, dude," she remarked before pausing, eyes wide. "Oh God. Oh God, I said 'dude' again, didn't I?"
"You did," he clarified with the weird lips twitch he usually did.
She put her head on the table and groaned, "I've become an American youth. This sucks."
"Should I take offence?"
"Probably," she huffed out a laugh and sat up again, stretching out her neck wildly. She'd probably end up giving herself whiplash but it was too comfortable. Sighing in satisfaction, she checked her phone to see two texts from her brother.
Ok. Have fun. But not too much, if you catch my drift. J.
Just kidding. Ish. J.
Snorting, she turned to her friend, "I better get going. Jon's probably freaking out just at the fact I've acquired a social life."
"Yes, I suspect my family will be returning shortly," he replied wryly, offering her a hand off the sofa. "Thank you for this," he said, as they left his house, hovering in the liminal space between the door and her car.
"It was fun," she admitted, hands in pockets to protect them from the cold. "It's surprisingly nice spending time with you outside of school, Eddie."
"I revel in any time spent with you, Nora," he murmured out of the blue, placing his hands in the pockets of his grey coat, mimicking her unintentionally.
Instead of answering, she smiled and did something she hadn't done to Edward before – the day seemed to be one for firsts of everything. Their first argument. Their first meeting outside of school. And now -
She hugged him. He stiffened at first like he had when she'd leaned her head on his shoulder. His temperature once again smacked her in the face and she thought of all the oddities surrounding Edward and his family.
And yet, as he relaxed, his arms curling around her to gently hug her back, she decided it wasn't her business.
Edward was her friend. He didn't have an obligation to tell her his family secrets and she knew that, no matter how curious, she wasn't in the right place to know anything as serious or life-changing as she got the impression this was.
She just wanted to be his friend.
He sighed and said, "Thank you."
Despite the words being aimed at the embrace, they were filled with so much gratitude that it almost sounded as if he'd known she'd reached her decision to let it go.
"You're welcome," she whispered into his collarbone, smiling slightly.
This was her vulnerability. This was her trying to allow her emotions out.
It was peaceful. And he smelled quite nice.
They stood there, in Edward's driveway; two friends, hugging.