Happy New Year! Another year has left us, oh where does the time go? It is insane to think that another year is gone, giving birth to itself again, so reincarnation exists on some level at least :) Think about it. But briefly. Here is chapter ten, I know long awaited, but hopefully highly anticipated, and even better loved chapter ten for all of you lovelies out there who like my stuff. Enjoy.
She was smiling at him again, she could feel it, and his left eye was twitching, slightly, yet uncomfortably. Edward pulled at the skin surrounding the corner of his eyes taunt in an altogether hopeless effort to relax the spasmodic muscles there. Momentary relief gateway to more involuntary and aggravated pace of the twitching. He turned to look at her, but she quickly looked away, smiling and grasping his mother's necklace between her fingers. She had found it two days ago at the bottom of his bathroom rubbish bin. Presenting it to him had only brought all of the reasons he had thrown it away in the first place to the forefront of his mind. Like how he was the one to give it to her in the hospital, the hospital she had spent the last two years of her life in. The one that told him and Edward they would save her, they wouldn't let her die on them. How she hadn't been wearing it when she died, but clutching it, close to her suddenly still heart. He chocked trying to keep them from dragging him back into the dead and empty world he had lived in, in the years immediately after he had let Frankie get over his own grief. Something he wasn't particular proud of, but there it was. Literally, it was swinging lightly to and fro in front of his face, and just behind it were brown eyes staring at him with curiosity shining back at him.
He had attempted to shrug it off, pretending he didn't remember where the necklace had come from, or how it had come to be in his lavatory bin. But she let the necklace swing at her side, and fixed him with a withering look of disappointing. Not wasting a moment she grabbed at his wrist, pulling him along behind her. Stopping outside of the room that had once belonged to him in his childhood, and then Audrey, before she had begun to sneak into his room each night to sleep there. Standing in front of the wall and looking up at him.
Edward's mother was staring at him. It was one of his favorites of her. She had a small quiet smile on her face. Eyes open and bright with the innate curiosity that had diminished later in her life, sitting crossed legged on the ground and looking like she had never been happier in her entire life. He chose to forget it was his father taking the picture; it had been him who made her look like that. This picture was exactly how he preferred to remember her. Healthy, glowing, and happy.
He took in why it was that Audrey had brought him here, around her neck and tangled in her long, tan fingers, the necklace. Blue, white, black and red. Beads and colored stone, all strung in a pattern you noticed, but couldn't precisely place.
It had taken some convincing, but finally she had agreed to keep it. As of now he didn't think she had even taken it off. He smiling at it now, and hooked a finger around the chain, pulling on it lightly, and Audrey found that she was twisting her neck letting the warm part glide easily off and bringing a chilled area to the nape of her neck. They were staring at one another, and Ed gently tugged at the chain bringing her closer to him. Obliging him, she moved her entire chair around to his side and suddenly her knee was brushing the inside of his thigh and Edward had the good sense to end their game. Dropping the necklace and her gaze, rubbing at his eyes only to give himself something else to do but dwell on the fact that again he couldn't do anything about the ideas in his head.
He felt Audrey's fingers at the tips of his hair, which was almost reaching his shoulders now, and he moved his hands away from his face looking at her again, finding her staring at her fingers instead of at him. Which he found a blessing because his eyes were closing as he tried with a certain desperation he would never admit too, to try and get his head to stop spinning, because it was making it terribly difficult to breathe. He was too close. Her fingers were inching closer to his scalp and he knew it should stop, but it wasn't until the first nail scraped just behind his ear that he pulled back, her hand made to follow him, but he covered her wrist with his hand stopping it.
He held it there for a moment, stuck if he left it go as he should she would only go for it again, and if she got a hold of him, it would certainly be the last time she ever had to. He would be hers that would be the end of it. But if he held her hand in his, it would change things, it would make holding her hand a memory in his mind, the feeling of it grasped however lightly there would be forever with him, and to try and keep himself from doing it again, might just kill him completely. Audrey wasn't content to sit there, but the look on his face told her to hold still, and she couldn't bring herself to go against something that seemed so important to him. Finally he looked at her hand for what felt like the first time, bringing his eyebrows together on his face and turning her hand over, her palm face up. Carefully he covered it with his own, and she sighed, he was holding it between both of his and brought it rest on his knee. He had been right, even with only one hand covering it, you could hardly tell her hand was there at all.
For moments they didn't say anything, or could, never knowing how many moments was both a blessing and a curse. But eventually he looked up at her, tiling his head in her direction, and smiling as he felt his hair brushing over the tops of his shoulders, "Do you know how to cut hair?" Her grin was wicked and he was begging that the only thing wicked that would happen was the smile.
"A couple more days and I was going to strap you to a chair myself," The thumb that had been drawing circles froze, and every muscle in his body tightened as he looked at her, Audrey's jaw dropped and she stammered incoherently for a few moments, before her mouth remembered she had a brain that knew words that could help her here, "Haircut...I was going to make you get a haircut...that was all."
She smiled at him carefully, and took her hand from his, her face suddenly warmer than she thought it should be, and judging by the look on his face, he knew it. They both stood suddenly backing away from the other, Audrey's hand grabbed for the necklace and Edward found his hands deep in his pockets.
"Can you?" He asked, ducking his chin to his chest as his voice suddenly raised several crucial octaves.
"I can give it a shot, that's about as good as you'll get out here." She gave him a rueful smile which he managed to return for a bare moment.
Samuel rounded the corner, taking in the two adults whose gazes shot to him abruptly. He stood wide-eyed and prone, darting his eyes from one pair of eyes to the other, his shoulders relaxing and he let a brief but genuine smile dominate his face. He had grown since they came here; it had been three months ago and already they had relocated over a dozen groups to safe houses. It turns out Elvis could be charming and trustworthy, when he put his mind to it. They trusted him. People were eve beginning to sleep when they had to overnight it. Sleeping in shifts. But everyone got at least an hour, and this was certainly better than huddled in a corner. A big step in the right direction at least that was what Audrey assumed him of. Samuel was threatening to overtake Audrey's ears, and from there it was inches until he would be taller than her, a fact she tried to ignore with vigor.
"Hungry?" Audrey asked him brightly, and he nodded looking to Ed. They all knew that he was the one who could cook, but as of late Audrey had been trying to cook more, because she hated seeing him do it, feeling as though all it was accomplishing besides providing sustenance was to add insult to her perpetually salted injuries.
Ed smiled at him and backed towards the fridge, "Grilled cheese?" He questioned, already reaching for the ingredients and Samuel nodded walking towards him smiling. He loved Edward's grilled cheese, no American cheese by product, and no butter, his mother's recipe, one of everyone's favorites. Audrey took up the take of setting the table, watching as Edward whispered the recipe to Sam, making a show of keeping it a secret from Audrey, telling Samuel that he could only tell one person in the whole world and he wanted it to be he who carried on the tradition. She never saw him smile as much as he did when they were making it.
"Tonight?" She asked, gripping the plates extra tight, because he was looking at her again, and warmth was spreading through her at the thought of it.
"Tonight."
:-::-:-:-::-:
It was nearing ten thirty when the plan finally got underway. It seemed that Samuel had to be put to bed before they could start, because Audrey didn't want to leave him unsupervised while they did it, and she wanted all of her attention focused on Edward, to keep from cutting it badly, or injuring either of them in the process.
Edward ran a towel through his hair, which he had only just finished dampening in the sink, turning to find Audrey with her back to him, looking over the small barbers kit spread over the counter, the one she had found it amongst his mother's things earlier, when he mention that he remembered her having one. She ran her fingers lightly over them, the clippers, comb and two pairs of scissors, smiling lightly.
"What?" He asked from behind her, her amusement palpable.
Turning in surprise, she shook her head, and looked at the tools, "I tried to cut my sisters hair once, when we were kids."
"How did it end?"
"Horribly." She admitted, and they both grinned.
"Excellent." He said, walking closer to her, and straddling the chair that she had set there. They had agreed that it should be done in the bathroom, because the tile would make it simpler to clean up when she had finished. He ran a hand through his hair, which admittedly wasn't looking its best.
Audrey took the towel from him, as he let his forehead rest on what was the back support of his mother's kitchen chair, her head was shaking lightly as she survey the length of his hair, and ran her fingers lightly over the still damp towel, "Take off your shirt." She said suddenly, her voice rising with her haste to say these words to him, before she lost her ever growing nerve, one that she was sure at any moment would shrink back to its previous size.
His head rose slowly, and she knew he was looking at her in the reflection of the mirror, but all she saw was a floating button down through the slats of the chairs back. He was shaking his head, she could see it in her puerperal vision, just the top of his head, moving, and there the collar of the empty shirt was moving and crumpling, and then his voice, "Audrey..." He started carefully, wondering if he would honestly have to explain why it would be a very bad idea.
"Unless you want your hair all over your neck and a wet shirt on your back." She said simply, and looking down at him, because the shirt had turned around to face her, his eyes startled her, she had known that he would be there when she looked down, but the sight of him not there and then suddenly there was unnerving. He was looking between her and the towel, surveying the options, "I'm going to put the towel over you to keep from getting hair on your neck, it will be itchy if I don't," She explained further, "But it's wet and it will make your shirt wet."
Audrey tried not look up at the other towels that were hanging on the rack to their left, because that would make more sense, or at the dresser in his bedroom the their right, which held plenty more shirts that she was sure he wouldn't mind to get wet, which also made more sense. But it was he who turned to look at the towels, and she let her eyes fall now that he wasn't looking at her anymore, dropping his head for a moment, he looked at the dresser as well, and she felt as though he had read her mind, as he did. But he looked back at the mirror again, and her skin stung with white hot fire, as he was watching her again. Looking up she saw the shirt moving again, carefully but efficiently manipulating the buttons, and pulling it off his shoulders. For a moment they were both staring at nothing.
She dropped the towel on what moments before had been seemingly open air and watched as it shaped into the rough form of a person. Adjusting it properly to lie flat across his shoulders, and looking down to make sure his neck was covered. She might at least keep her reasons legitimate. Moving to grab the comb and scissors and returning to his side. He wasn't breathing anymore, she could hear him and the towel wasn't moving, but she couldn't understand why. Carefully she took a small patch in her fingers, with the intent of running it through the comb and gauging its length. But she found her fingers pulling to the end and returning got more. Her chest ached as she pulled out another clump of damp hair and bit down on her lip as Edward let out a rush of air.
He should stand and leave. It would be the safest most logical choice, but seeming to sense his thoughts she brought the scissors forward and snipped off a part. The first of many snips, but it was enough to keep him in the chair. She looked up at the mirror starting at the sight of her hands in front of her. It was so strange, she had seen the towel through what should have been solid body, but it took seeing her own hands, which she knew to be holding hair, attached to the back of a head, but she saw none of those things. Just her hands and scissors and comb.
Looking back down at the top of her head, she pushed it forward further, his chin nearing his chest, and she kept herself from looking back at the mirror, reminding herself on more than one occasion that he was a person, and he wasn't something to be gawked at. She kept a good pace with the scissors, shortening it enough until she could go at it with the clippers, keeping it short at the back and sides; she came around him in the front. Having left this for last, hoping that she could have as much control when she got to this part. She thought of military haircuts left unattended while she cut, trying her best to keep his hair looking this way, because it looked good and it seemed simple to do. Her eyes were straying towards his face, he was staring at her stomach, and actually he was trying to look everywhere but her stomach without moving his head, though it didn't seem to be working. Her eyes returned to the top of his head, because she caught sight of his chest, and abruptly it seemed they both realized how quiet it was in the house, and how very much alone they actually were.
She brought the scissors back up and smoothed out the lines she had made while moving the long strands about, and clipped at it briefly, but his breath was hitting her stomach, and her heart was hammering inside of her, so quickly that Edward felt as though it threatened to bring her own heart back to life. But it didn't, nothing could. Sure Elvis had told him about how he had been turned back, but it was too risky, the winery might have been a good place to conduct such a trial run, but there wasn't a place here, not somewhere that was safe, where nothing could go wrong. With him or with Audrey. There was no telling what prolonged sun exposure could do to his state of mind, it might drive him to do something about the smell of her blood, and he would risk it. Plus it could kill him, there might have been something about the suns distance from their Earth on that day, or the water that he fell into, or hell maybe Elvis had something about him that let him cross back over. There was no telling, and until then, this was something he would just have to live with.
The last snip came from above him, and Audrey back away from him, setting down the comb and scissors, and unplugging the clippers, moving back to him she ran her fingers lightly over his hair, shaking lose any remaining hairs, and checking that all its length was as even as she could get it. Her fingers were moving and massaging over his head, her nails scraping accidentally across his scalp and leaving fire everywhere she touched.
"Well?" He asked roughly, and she started, her fingers tensing suddenly as she realized that neither of them had spoken since the start of his haircut, and she looked up at his clock, that had been almost an hour ago, "Better than your sisters hair I hope." He joked lightly.
She smiled at him, and admitted that it did look pretty good, and wished she could offer for him to take a look himself. Audrey reached for the towel carefully folding it, with his hair inside, walking to the shower to shake it out and rinse it down the drain. He was leaning forward and opening the counter under the sink, pulling out what looked like a hand mirror, and holding it up to look in it. Dropping the towel, and following her curiousness to stand next to him. She saw it wasn't a hand mirror but a video screen, and a small camera with a handle. It looked like infrared, but there was his face. Her back straightened, and he turned from side to side, brushing stray hairs off his ears, and then from his shoulders.
She tried to stop her eyes there because she could just see the top of his collar bone, it was grainy but it was there, his neck was tensing as his head turned to look at the hair cut she had given him, the longer she looked the more difficult it seemed to look away, but he was turning to look at her, and she tried with desperation to stop. But his arm dropped a fraction, and she looked at his chest full on, and blushed furiously at herself, because now she couldn't, and she didn't want to look away, and her face was stinging as he looked over at her.
"It looks good." He said, his voice choked, and she watched it move in the mirror.
Her eyes finally looked up at him, and found him very close, he was staring at her, his eyes glowing brightly with something she knew all too well. Her breath was coming, but with difficulty, and then he wasn't so close, he was leaning to get his shirt from the floor, and it seemed like it was colder next to her now than it had been a moment ago. He was spreading the fabric in his fingers, searching for the elusive sleeve. When she was at his side, and her hands were on his, she was trying to think, or not think. She couldn't remember which she had decided to be, but given what she wanted to do, she thought not think sounded more plausible.
Edward opened his mouth, as her fingers were skimming their way up his chest, "Audrey." He said, but seemed as though he couldn't bring himself to move away from her. He had been right, and this time he wasn't happy about it, she had reached for him once more, and he couldn't pull away. He admitted it. He was hers. Completely, and it was hard to be angry with himself about it.
Her fingers reached his neck, and for the first time she allowed herself to look at his scar, the palest thing about him, the only part of him that seemed vulnerable, and in light of what she wanted to do, looking at his scar paled in comparison. Her fingers traced the pattern of the bite; the raised edges of his brother's teeth, the largest and deepest of these were his canines, the teeth that had elongated into fangs. Moving past this she wrapped her fingers around his neck, and Edward tensed, knowing what was coming next, and again finding it hard to be angry with him about letting his happen.
Audrey took a deep breath, hoping do find that courage instead of oxygen, she didn't, but still she pressed onward. Moving to his face, his eyes locking with hers and then closing in his own silent surrender to her, and she smiled. Her lips brushing his cheek, and only the corner of his mouth. Fire and ice spread through each, burning and freezing all at the same moment, and all at the same place. She was so close to him, he felt he might burn, and his hand was holding her waist as she threatened to freeze.
Then she was gone. While it happened it seemed like a lifetime, as she left he realized the reality of how short it had been. He turned and found that he had dropped his shirt, and that Audrey hadn't really left. She was standing beside his bed, but looking at the door, torn. He shut off the light and left the bathroom, moving to stand at her side, but he didn't touch her, he couldn't, he still lived in the state of belonging to her. Slowly he pulled back the comforter and covers, and then left her standing there. Rounding on the other side of the bed, and climbing, not daring to look at her properly, as he was still entirely too warm.
He heard her moving, coming to lay in his bed, pulling the comforter over her, and letting out the breath she had taken in the bathroom.
So that's it. I was stuck on the ending, and to me it felt kind of vague, but I didn't know how to end it, I tried lots of things, but none felt right. Anyhoo I hope that I will see all of your familiar pen names, and hopefully new ones in my email tomorrow. Because I love you all, and I won't even bother to promise to update, because I can't bear the thought of breaking another promise to all of you lovelies again. So I promise to feel terrible about not updating, at least I can keep that one. Or I could last year. Now that I'm done wallowing, please feel ever free to review this hopefully wonderful chapter.