Previously:
"Promise me," he said.
"Okay. I promise I won't leave."
"You'll stay here with us...always."
"Always," she said.
Instead of kissing her, he simply leaned his head down on top of hers. She liked to think that this closeness they shared was the beginning of something new and precious; that he felt something above and beyond the friendship he felt forced to maintain, the same longing, the strike of the match that awaited a fire that had been held at bay. But as he continued to hold her, stroking her hair, and the steady buzz of the charge between them remained alive, Bella realized this was enough for now.
10. Changed
One week later:
"You're not peeking, right? You can't see anything?" Edward asked.
Bella squinted into the blackness of the folds masking her sight. "Even as a vampire, you know I don't have x-ray vision, Edward." The front triangle of the handkerchief had been pulled down past the tip of her nose, so her only view was the hair atop the buttons of her jacket and her jeans.
"Just making sure. I can't read your mind."
"So, you've said. But, listen, I know this little field trip is supposed to be a surprise, but can't you at least give me a hint?"
"Now, that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"
"The purpose of what?"
"Exactly."
Droplets pattered against the windshield as she tried to imagine where he could possibly be taking her. They'd left the house about five minutes before, and at the speedy rate at which Edward preferred driving, it was possible they were already past Forks.
"How much further?" she asked.
"So impatient," he muttered.
They'd hunted a few days before, so she wondered if he might be testing her tolerance once more when the car slowed.
"Alright, now lift up the blindfold," he said.
With an eager thumb and index finger, Bella pulled it off her head and looked at the road before her. They were on a street with trees on both sides.
"Look familiar?" he asked, pointing to the outside of her window.
She turned her head, and took in the sight before her. The yellow two-story house looked older and in need of paint, and the grass was in need of mowing.
"I can't believe it." The combination of wet and green, and the recognizable building set her mind spinning to her younger days. "Charlie."
It still smelled like him - that scent of Old Spice lingered on a basket of laundry that threatened to spill over from its height.
Though Charlie had locked the house thoroughly, it had been easy to shimmy the back window open.
Edward said nothing as Bella zipped from the laundry room to the kitchen and observed the vacant shelves and nearly empty milk container. She pulled the half gallon out and eyed the date.
"This expired," she said with a frown, calculating how many days past the date on the container it was. She decided against throwing it away so as not to disturb its whereabouts and opened the top door to the freezer. Apart from a couple of frozen dinners, she eyed a wrapped package of aluminum foil, and without having to open it, she recognized the overpowering fishy smell. Her dad used to like to fish, she recalled. Still it was not a pleasant smell. To her relief, shutting the door extinguished the odor. Her curiosity led her next to inspect the pantry, finding very little in the way of canned goods and few condiments. "He was never big on cooking," she said. "We used to eat at a diner...all the time."
"You're remembering things," Edward said.
"It's weird - it's more like recalling things from a movie or a book, but not like it really happened at all."
"Memories can be like that."
Edward's idea to come while Charlie was at work was ingenious, and as she roamed from room to room and observed the pieces of furniture she remembered from her childhood as well as the flat screen that he must've acquired more recently, bits of memories played inside her mind.
At the bottom of a book shelf, she recognized a dark brown photo album with coiled binding and blew away a layer of dust before opening it. The loose photos on top were old and worn, obviously something that Renee had been diligent about sending over the years, but Charlie hadn't taken the time to affix them to the pages. As she thumbed through the most recent, it was like turning pages in time, gazing at the human images of herself. Different clothes, sometimes even with her long brown hair pulled back, but always that same ordinary face, those same brown eyes looked back at her. Lingering only for a millisecond on each, she sifted through the memories, working to recall the moments - one standing on her front porch in Arizona, another holding up her driver's license as she sat in the driver's side of Renee's Camry. In an even older photo was the image of her holding a rolled paper resembling a scroll while wearing an ankle-length dress - eighth grade graduation. The memory of the actual event was lost, but she still recalled how much she hated wearing the dress, and though the white heels Renee insisted she wore were only a quarter of an inch, Bella swore they were high enough to cause her death. Renee had tried to make her into a young lady, and giving only a feeble argument, Bella finally agreed. That was when it struck her; Renee was more the child in their relationship.
Flipping madly through space and time, hungry for knowledge of her former life, she arrived to the bottom of the stack and the first page of the album-Charlie's and Renee's wedding picture that had been taken in Las Vegas.
He hadn't had a mustache then and the two were obviously in their late teens or early twenties. Staring into each other's eyes, both were free of wrinkles and frowns; their love was unmarred by the reality of life. Now that Bella thought about it, they'd been divorced for most of her life. Why had Charlie kept this picture?
She turned the page to find an image of Renee lying in a hospital bed with rosy cheeks and mussed hair, thoroughly exhausted by the look of the bags beneath her eyes and the tired smile. In her arms, she held an infant with eyes closed, swaddled inside a pink blanket. And just below that, standing in the hospital room, Charlie huddled next to Renee as she cradled a squinty-eyed baby Bella.
"Awww," Edward said over her right shoulder. "Such a beautiful baby." He gazed at the photo on the opposite page of a bright-eyed Bella, with a tiny nose and lips that couldn't decide whether to smile or frown. A pink barrette accented the brown peach fuzz atop her head, and her rosy complexion stood out from her pink outfit with yellow ducks. At the bottom of the picture, it was dated November 1987.
"I was two months old."
They continued to flip through the pages, documenting her growth from infant to preschooler until the final picture of her fifth birthday- a girl with puffed out cheeks blowing out five candles.
She heaved a sigh as she closed the photo album and returned it to where she found it, leaving the accompanying dust bunnies intact.
He took her hand in his. "You haven't seen everything you came to see." She followed behind as he led her up the stairs. He paused between the two rooms, and by instinct she chose the door on the left and opened it. There it was - her room. The bed was made with a familiar quilt and Bella believed that her grandmother had sewn it.
The pine dresser and shelves were in bad need of refinishing and dusting, but nevertheless as she remembered them. She even sat on the bed, struck by another memory.
"This was almost my home," she said. Her lips formed a sad smile. "And I didn't even want to come here."
"Do you remember why not?"
"Because I hated the rain and everything about Forks." She shook her head. "I remember the feeling of cold, wet, and miserable."
"Why were you going to leave your mom?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. I think it had something to do with my stepdad, though." They were quiet for a moment. "I miss her. I wish I could see her...and Charlie."
"You never know what the future holds. The thing to remember is that distance is the key when we're sure that it's safe -"
She cut him off, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you. It's because of you I was able to come here and see all this. You'll never know how much this means to me, Edward."
His arms encircled her and fingers stroked her hair. "My pleasure."
Humming along to the music that filled the house, Bella spooned the balls of dough onto a cookie sheet while Esme collected the dirty utensils. Bella was struck by the melodic rise and fall of the notes, the gentle, comforting harmony as she went about her work.
"So, you like it?" Esme asked, wiping down the counter next to her.
"I do. I have no idea what it's called or who wrote it, but I love it," Bella said. She imagined that Edward was learning a new song as this was the third time in two days that he'd played it.
"It's an original Edward Cullen composition."
Wide-eyed, Bella turned to find the pleased look on Esme's face. "I had no idea that Edward composed," she said. She already knew he was a talented musician but couldn't have known the depth of his abilities.
Esme pointed toward the ceiling. "This song is new," she said. "And you, my dear, are the inspiration for this one."
Bella blinked, her mouth agape as her spoonful of dough remained two inches above its intended location. "Me?"
"That's right."
"Why...why do you think that?"
"I've heard every piece of music that Edward owns. This is definitely an original," she said with a wink. When Bella continued to stare at her in disbelief, Esme continued, "Ask him. He'll tell you."
Sure, she thought. Like that was going to happen. Resuming her humming, she and Esme continued to finish up with the cookies in preparation for the following day's bake sale, and once that was done, Bella headed up to her room, but paused at the door of the piano room.
Oddly enough, the music stopped just as she and Esme had finished the dishes. And, now she tried desperately to think of an excuse to speak to him.
The door was slightly ajar, and a little peek inside confirmed that the piano was without its master. Like a magnet, she was drawn to the sheets on the ebony music stand, and plain as day in Edward's elegant script were the words 'Bella's Lullaby.' She held back a small gasp. Had he really written this beautiful song for her?
"Looking for something?"
Caught red-handed.
Edward now stood before her, a little smirk on his lips, one brow raised in question as she set the sheets back on their stand, missing the edge completely and causing the papers to scatter across the floor.
She scrambled to pick them up, grabbing each with lightning speed, and then piled them neatly back onto the stand. "I was just wondering who wrote...what this song was called...and you weren't here," she said.
"Do you like it?"
Was he really going to make her say it? He must've heard the exchange downstairs with Esme.
In her humiliation, she was without words and simply nodded.
"You didn't believe Esme?" he asked.
"I just didn't know why...I would inspire you."
"Your baby picture. I imagined your mom rocking you as you fell asleep."
"Oh," she said, her head tilted sideways as she tried to picture it.
"But, also I imagined you human, if you had gotten on that plane...in your old room and how the rain would fall outside the window at your dad's house and you would toss and turn, missing your mom. And then I imagined the music distracting you from your sadness...until you finally closed your eyes."
"Edward, I think that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard."
"That you can remember..." he said as his lips formed a smirk.
"Right. I can't recall anything sweeter than that."
"I've been known to be sweet from time to time."
Teasingly, she raised an eyebrow to show her skepticism.
"Are you surprised?" he asked with a laugh.
"Well, I don't know. I had it on very high authority from the fake Volturi that you were evil, and I just don't know what to make of it," she said with a smile.
Their eyes locked, and he took her hands in his, running thumbs across her knuckles as the familiar charge buzzed across her body.
"I guess you've changed me, Miss Swan."
"Will you play it for me, Edward?"
He smiled, bringing her hands up to his lips and planting a small kiss on her knuckles. "I would be happy to."
Three weeks later:
Bella looked up from her book to peer at the clock, noting the hour on this unusually bright morning, and by six a.m., there was always the familiar assembly of the Cullen clan readying themselves for the school day.
Edward had been playing one of his CDs when she peeked in his doorway.
"Is today a holiday?" she asked, wishing that the first week of June would be over already leaving them one week closer to summer break - she longed for any excuse that would give her a few extra hours to spend with him.
"Almost," he said, turning to her. "We don't go to school when the sun's out." He rose from the sofa and took her hand in his. "Come on," he said, leading her toward the door.
"Are you kicking me out?"
"No. Days like this are rare, and it's too nice to stay indoors. Let's go for a run."
Twenty miles away, outside the shadows of the gloomy forest lay a magical place devoid of hikers, difficult for ordinary humans to reach. In a postcard-perfect stretch of wildflowers, Edward and Bella lay side by side, gazing up at the remarkable expanse of blue with spots of white, fluffy clouds.
"I love the way the sun feels on my face. It's so warm... reminds me of Arizona...home. And I still can't get over how we sparkle." She held up her hand to reveal the shimmery translucence of her skin.
"Uh, Bella, you don't need the sun to sparkle."
She turned to face him, tilting her head again at him in disbelief.
"Too corny?" he asked.
"No, it's just not something a friend says to another."
At this, he shook his head and then sat up, leaning his weight backward onto his palms. "I'm sorry, Bella."
"No, you don't have to apologize."
"No, I do. I'm tired... of pretending." It came out in a sigh.
She sat up, crossing her legs at the ankles. "What are you talking about, Edward?"
"I mean that I can't do it anymore - I can't go on acting like you aren't everything to me."
"What are you trying to say?"
"That with each hour and every minute that I'm away from you, that a piece of me is missing...I've never felt more human...more vulnerable...more unsure of myself than I ever have...and I've come to realize that a mere friendship between us will never suffice."
Her mouth fell agape. Here he was saying the words she'd wished to hear, but she couldn't believe it. "But what about all that talk of me being a newborn...?"
"I know. If I were smart, I would wait, but I don't want to be smart or logical anymore. Not when it comes to you. I fought so hard against what everybody thought was right for me when it was right here in front of my face, and I just refused to see it. You are the reason for my existence. I fought against you, Bella, and I was a fool for the things I said." Leaning toward her, he took her hand in his. His tone softened. "I wasn't kidding when I said you changed me."
Her chest rose and fell as though she was trying to catch her breath. This declaration had knocked the wind out of her.
"Say something, please, Bella?" Edward's hand squeezed hers.
At this point, words still wouldn't do. It was as though every word he'd said was too much to hope for, too out of reach - she needed tangible proof. "Kiss me," she said, heady at the anticipation of having him so close.
He nodded. "I will."
"Okay." The word came out in little more than a whisper. Could this really be happening?
Edward mouthed the word "okay," as he brushed his thumb from his other hand across her lower lip. "I'm going to kiss you now," he said, now a breath away and touching his forehead to hers. "And, just so that we're clear, not for any other reason than for the fact that I want to kiss you."
The smolder was evident beneath his lashes, and she couldn't wait any longer as his scent washed over her. Her lips fastened onto his much like the first time, hasty and rash and out of pure need, but this time he didn't pull away. The gentle and warm press of his lips was one she knew she would never tire of. Desire coursed through her as the familiar charge from their connection ignited into flames. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer as his hands rounded her waist, grasping the cotton fabric of her blouse into his fists at her back. What started off soft and patient escalated to lips molding together, hands caressing, bodies pressed against each other while the perfume of the surrounding flowers mingled with the breeze.
"My first real kiss," Bella uttered when they separated, meeting the desire in his gaze.
His lips curled into a smile. "Mine too. But not your last," he said, tilting her chin upward to meet the bliss of his lips again.
Euphoric, she curled her hands over his shoulders and pushed him backward onto the lush cushion of the flowers, leaving no space between their bodies. Breathing in the honey and lilac of his skin while her own tingled from the sensation of his hands on her back, she couldn't imagine anything more romantic or passionate.
A/N: Yes, I'm going to end it right there. A huge thanks is due to my beta EmeraldStar 73, who persuaded me NOT to leave you all hanging with the monster cliffy I'd been planning on for months! The next chapter will continue here in the meadow, and I hope that this chapter has met with your approval. Thanks to you all for your continued support and I hope to hear from you again. And as always, I will send teasers in review replies - unless you specify that you don't want one.