Prompt: # 15

Pairing/Character(s): Edward and Bella

Rating: T

Word Count: 500

Photo prompts can be found here:

thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts

"Fuck this shit." I sling my coffee cup against the door, relishing the sound as it smashes.

The satisfaction's short-lived, and I bend down to clear up the mess. The broken cup probably holds some deep, symbolic meaning — maybe if I wasn't so lost at the moment, I'd be able to put it into words.

I stand, narrowly avoiding being hit by the door opening towards me — it's my housemate, Bella.

"I came to see what the noise was," she says, eyeing the tell-tale shards of pottery in my hand then the puddle of coffee at my feet. "Let me guess, the writing's still not flowing?"

"Nope. Fucking writer's block."

"Come downstairs. I'll make you another drink. You should take a break."

I love her calm, practical approach to things. It's pretty twisted that one woman can encapsulate both the solution to my block and the cause of it. The second one's unintentional, of course.

I'm a writer without words. I can't seem to put any meaningful ones down on paper. All I can think about is how to express my undeclared love to Bella.

We go down to the kitchen. I watch her get mugs out of the cupboard.

"Sorry about your cup," I say to fill the silence.

"Don't worry about it. I never liked that one anyway." She stands on tip-toe to reach a tin of hot chocolate from a shelf that's just slightly too high for her.

"Coffee for me, please." Hot chocolate's way too girlie for my liking. "I need the caffeine ... writer's fuel," I claim.

"Hot chocolate could help you relax. Try it this once, for me?"

I can't resist those pleading brown eyes. I nod, and I'm rewarded by a smile that lights up her face.

She turns away to prepare the drink.

I may be struggling with my novel, but I'd happily write pages and pages about Bella. Not just about her beauty, though she is beautiful. I'd try to convey her whole character, flaws and all. Her insistence on singing along, badly, to the radio as she washes up, even though she knows my bedroom's right above her. The way she's always losing keys and skipping her turn to buy the milk. These little things drive me crazy, and yet without them, she wouldn't be the woman I love.

I'm going to have to tell her somehow. There's no space in my head for anything else at the moment.

Bella hands me the steaming mug, topped with bobbing marshmallow shapes.

"I know you'll get there. With the writing, I mean."

"Thanks. I hope so, my publisher's getting jittery."

She bites her bottom lip. I long to kiss it, and I wish I knew how she'd react. But, like my words, this is going to take time to get right. Maybe I can cosy up to her as we relax with our hot chocolates. One step at a time.