A/N: I think you're going to like this update. I sure do.
Hugs and kisses to readers, reviewers, and followers.
BPOV
"I can't stay here, Bella. I'm sorry. I'm leaving."
What?
"What's your excuse this time?" I ask playfully, trying not to show him how confused I am. "I thought we went through this."
I can't explain it, but he can't leave. He just can't. He came in drenched and shivering and it broke my heart knowing that this wasn't the first time he did this. He was sleeping outside, and it's been especially freezing this winter. He would be so cold and hungry and I couldn't bear the thought of that.
"You don't want me to say it."
"Say what?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
He takes a deep breath. "You don't care about me, or what I'm going through. I don't know why I expected you to care, and I'm kind of glad you don't, because caring only leads to pain. You're bored, Bella. You're looking for something you can't buy, and there are few things that fall into that category. But I do, and that's why you want me around. I'm not going to drag you into this if you don't understand what you're getting yourself into."
I stared at him, stunned. He's standing in front of me know, his eyes all serious and conflicted. He's still drenched, and his clothes stick to his body. I can see the definition of his muscles under his hooded sweatshirt.
I really want to kiss him right now.
I mentally slap myself and try to pull it together. He's telling me what Angela told me in the hospital, and I realize that I couldn't deny it then, and I still can't deny it now. But he was wrong when he said I didn't care, and I needed to set him straight.
"You're right," I begin, and he seems surprised. He tries not to show how disappointed he is, but I can see it in the way his eyes fall to the floor. "I am bored. I've bought too many cars and seen too many sunsets in London and Paris and Vienna. But I'm sick of being told who to talk to and what to feel. Even when it's coming from you." I motioned for him to come closer and he stands so close to me that our knees are almost touching. I'm still sitting on the couch so he kind of towers over me, but I grab his hand. "I do care. That's why I'm here, and that's why I let you stay with me. That's why I'm telling you we're going to figure this out together."
He rubs his forehead with his other hand. "I don't know if -"
"I don't know either," I smile sheepishly. "It probably won't work. But we are sure as hell going to try. But I like you, Edward. You're a good person, and you deserve a long and happy life. That's what motivates me to help you."
He's kind of funny looking right now, his eyes bugging out of his head like a cartoon character. I don't know what it is; maybe it's the fact that I'm holding his hand, or that I said I like him, or that I'm fighting for him no matter how many times he turns me down, but he suddenly leans over and hugs me. I awkwardly put my hands around his waist when the shock wears off, and my head is pressed to his stomach.
He suddenly pulls away and I try not to sigh. "I'm sorry, I just – no one has ever…"
I hold up my hand, effectively shutting him up. "Just go take a shower already."
He smiles then. It's huge, the kind of smile that is way too big for his face. He nods and practically runs up the stairs. I hear him trip once, and I don't even try to contain my laughter.
"Laugh at my pain, why don't you," he shouts back at me.
I laugh harder.
For once, I laugh because I want to, and not because it is expected of me.
They're making progress!
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