A.N: Thank you to JJ Twi1ight for looking through this one as well, and thanks to you who reviewed - also those who I can't reply to in person. That's what makes all the fun!
A couch and what could have been
The rest of the night wasted away in sleepless writhing and silent banging of my head into the pillow. I hit my forehead, I bit my hand to keep quiet, I cried in frustration, and then I crept into fetal position and pitied myself.
I was the worst screw-up in the world, wasn't I? Everything that happened between us, every little progress – got ruined, by me, every single time. Every time we were doing great, some twisted little thought always managed to make me act like a crazy person.
This time, what killed me was that he had been about to tell me something. He had been kind of shy, a little nervous, and he had been about to tell me something, something he said he didn't know if he should tell. Maybe it was a secret? Maybe it was something about him that he was feeling nervous about? Maybe it was about me? I wouldn't know, because I had ruined it. And now I would never know. I had made it awkward, as I made everything awkward, always, and this time not even Jacob could grin and laugh it off and tell me how silly I was.
I barely slept that night, and when morning came I felt just a tad more crazy than I had felt earlier. My head felt like someone had picked it up and kicked it around, and I was exhausted from picking apart fragments of what he had said, and trying to interpret what he meant, and guess what he was about to tell.
So far, I had found three possible solutions. The first scenario was that he was about to say that despite my awkwardness and mental head he had feelings for me, more than friendship. I reckoned this scenario as highly unlikely and quite impossible. While he might seem great, and while he might have seemed to like me a little, that most likely would be me reading into things that weren't there. Furthermore, had this highly unlikely scenario been true and he had been about to say those things, that was even worse, because I had preceded by trying to get him to understand that of all things I did not love him. Which must have been – given scenario one was real, which it wasn't – a slight blow to his imagined feelings for me and must have most likely erased the few of them that were left from his mind.
The second scenario, one I thought about a lot because I had a tendency to punish myself, was that he was about to tell me I was an idiot. This scenario too wasn't quite likely, and I didn't really think it was true, but then all things considered, it was possible. Maybe he was about to say that he didn't know if he should tell me this, because I was his friend and all, but he thought I was crazy and that he was just a little bit afraid of living in the same house as me, and that maybe I should get help. At least, I thought, that might be what he was going to tell me in the morning.
The third and last scenario was the most likely of them all. Deep down I knew that this was it. He had been about to say that we were friends, and that he was happy for that, but that's it. No doubt he had sensed my growing crush on him, noticed the long looks I sent him, and figured it was about time to set things straight. He had simply wanted to make it clear that we could not be anything more than friends, as he did not share those feelings. He'd wanted to get that all into the open. Of course, before he got that far, I had told him that I loved him and our whole relationship had gone straight to hell. Great job, me. Now I only had to wait for scenario number two.
The watch on my night stand told me it was approaching ten in the morning, and I couldn't really pretend to be sleeping much longer. The house was awfully quiet. I had no idea how I would be able to face him. Maybe he had gone out. I hoped he had, so I wouldn't have to face him. But I got up, got dressed, made a ponytail and tried to look good. At least, if I just went into the kitchen to a quick breakfast, and acted all normal and happy like nothing ever happened, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Or maybe he wouldn't notice, anyway.
Unfortunately, he was up. I greeted him brightly, and he replied in just the same manner, and all I could think of was how uncomfortable I felt. We shared an extremely polite breakfast. He poured tea and sprung to his feet to get me sugar, and I passed the bread and all but put jam on his slice. Neither of us ever stopped smiling, and neither of us could manage to make it quite genuine.
After breakfast I withdrew to my room, and stared up at the ceiling until lunch time. I wasn't hungry. If he asked, that's what I'd say. A small part of me hoped he would ask. But he didn't.
I was tired, but I couldn't sleep, as I couldn't stop fretting. The house was all quiet; he must have withdrawn as well. For a moment, I briefly wondered how we would be able to live together when things were like this, both of us terrified to even make eye contact. I might have been overreacting. Maybe Jacob wasn't acting awkward at all, maybe it was all in my head because I felt like I did. I should go and talk to him about it. I should go and tell it like it was. Just be honest. But really, I didn't have the guts.
Edward came to check on me about four in the afternoon, wondering why I was in bed in the middle of the day (but at the same time pleased to see that I was separated from the dog). I scratched him behind the ear and buried my fingers through his perfect fur, wishing things were simple and that I was a much tougher person. If Jacob had been a cat I could just scratch his ear and give him food, and he would like me again.
When I had no other choice, I sneaked out of my room and into the kitchen to feed Edward, who purred and watched me while I prepared his food. There was no sound coming from the living room, and I wondered if Jacob was out. I didn't check, but tip-toed back to my room and closed the door behind me, relieved and sad at the same time that I hadn't bumped into him.
It got dark out. I read, but very slowly, as I was completely unable to gather my thoughts. I buried myself in my blanket and stayed there for what must have been hours, maybe hoping that if I stayed here long enough it would all be forgotten. It gave me good time to think about what he might have wanted to say. Definitely scenario three. That was the only realistic one, really. He'd never see me that way. He'd never feel anything more than friendship for me (and now possibly be a little frightened in addition to that).
My watch on the nightstand showed eight thirty when there was a knock on the door. I peeked out from under my blanket. What on earth...?
"Can I come in?" I heard him ask. Jacob. Who else, really.
"Yeah," I replied, heaving myself out of the bed just in time before he entered. He was frowning, and he had a determined look on his face. Uh oh. Slowly, he went inside and closed the door behind him before turning to me.
"Sorry," I said. "I just fell asleep." I pointed to my book. "That one is really boring. I don't recommend it."
But Jacob did not sidetrack that easily. Still with that determined look upon his face, he went straight up to me until he was standing less than half a foot away. He loomed over me, looking me intently in the eyes and my heart fell into sprint. Then he lifted up both my hands in each one of his warm ones, and held them in a tight grip down on each side. His eyes searched mine. I swallowed. "We're friends, right?" he asked me. Clearly on a quest for some hidden answer only I knew.
"Yes," I said, more on autopilot than anything else. My heart was racing.
"And that's all." He said it like a statement, but I could hear the question there. "You don't like me as more than friends?"
I shook my head quickly, as if answering a thief who prodded my pockets for more money. "No, no. Forget what I said. It was just a mistake. I'm sorry."
He nodded, more to himself than me. It looked at if he was expecting my answer.
"Okay," he said. "That's settled, then. No misunderstandings. Is everything okay between us?" His brows wrinkled up, still with that determined look on his face.
I nodded again. I swear, there's no more money! "Yes. It is. For my part, anyway."
He nodded again. "And for my part too. Then we're good."
This time it was a statement, as he reached his conclusion.
I kept nodding. "Yes. We're good."
He exhaled then, for what must have been the first time since he entered. His shoulders relaxed some, and at once he didn't seem so looming. He smiled, leaning his face down and looking at me, and I felt myself relax too. We were good?
"Good," he said, his voice back from the interrogative state. And then before I knew, he had picked me up from the ground in a hug. He didn't let me down until my smile matched his.
"Good," he said again, nodding. "I just wanted to get things straight."
And just like that, he had. I smiled back at him, feeling warm all over. Maybe it was the hug. Jacob was pretty warm.
He still hadn't let go of my hand. "Come watch a movie with me," he said, nodding his head backwards towards the living room. His eyes were bright again, and at the same time nervous as if he feared I would say no. "Your book can be boring without you."
Relieved, and feeling kind of stupid for spending the whole day fretting when it could have been solved this easily, I simply nodded and smiled. Before I knew, he all but dragged me out of my room. One of my hands was still wrapped tightly in his large one, and I relished in the feeling of it. He didn't let go until I was safely installed on the couch guarded by a blanket and a bowl of popcorn.
I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Strange how a day could change so abruptly.
"Anything you want to see?" he wondered, rummaging through one of his boxes with dvds, being completely himself and nothing sort of weird. His face was still a little relieved, as I guessed mine was too.
"Whatever you've got, as long as it's not scary," I clarified. No way I was sitting through another horror movie.
I yawned. Perched on a couch, with popcorn, and blanket, and Jacob, I could finally relax.
"Tired?" he smiled.
I nodded sleepily. "Yeah. A little."
He shrugged, nodded. "Yeah. I know. After all it's nearly nine."
I would have kicked him in the leg had he been within reach, but I settled with a scowl. "I have no scruples eating all the popcorn by myself, you know. I'm kinda hungry."
He was fairly quick to pick a movie and join me on the couch after that.
The first thirty minutes were fine. There was popcorn, and lots of it, and there was Bruce Willis and some explosions and guns and stuff, and there was Jacob and many snide comments. After thirty minutes, I started to yawn again, and it came to a point when the empty bowl of popcorn nearly fell on the floor as my eyes slid shut. With a grin and another funny comment about how it was after all nearly ten, Jacob became in charge of the bowl and I snuggled into the blanket. There were some more explosions and a whole lot of shooting, and the room was getting dark and I was sleepy. I remembered liking Jacob, and that he was warm, and in a haze letting my head fall down to rest on his shoulder as I fell asleep.
When I woke, I felt bewildered. I didn't open my eyes at once; maybe I wasn't really awake yet. All I knew was that it was early, really early because I was rarely this tired when waking up. I wondered what it was that had awaken me, and then there was a heavy sigh right next to my ear.
I opened my eyes, only to look right at a scruff-clad Adams apple. I looked around. We were still at the couch, and it was early morning. The TV was still on, the menu of the dvd running over and over as it must have done all night. Peeking down, I realized I had totally fallen asleep on him, and it seemed like after a while he had too. I was jammed in between Jacob and the back of the couch, halfway on him, halfway beside him, all blanket and legs and Jacob and me.
This could not be good for our friendship.
Jacob was sleeping, or at least it looked like he was. His eyes were closed. He sighed again. Nope, not sleeping. He was just waking up, too. Oh. Okay. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, unsure what to do. I settled on closing them. Should I laugh and run up and away and be all friendly and happy again, or should I stay? Before I had time to decide, Jacob sighed once more, cleared his throat, and rubbed his eyes. He was awake.
I could feel him move beside me, but I kept my eyes shut as if still sleeping. I could feel him look down, could sense him as he discovered me. I could hear him rub his eyes again, and feel as his head rested back against the couch. He sighed again, the kind of sigh one does in the morning after sleeping really well for a long time.
I waited for him to remove his arm from under my side and try to sneak up, but he didn't. This surprised me. Wouldn't he do that, if found in inappropriate closeness with friend? I could hear as he scratched his head, and then relax. Then he was still for a long time, as if going back to sleep.
He didn't mind, I realized. He didn't mind.
This simple thought, no matter how insignificant, made me so happy I couldn't help but smile. He didn't mind being like this. He must like me a little still then, as close friends. If not more, then at least as good, close friends.
It must be the warmth that made me do it. That, or the blissful thoughts. It was not until after I had done it, that I realized I had thoughtlessly and completely inappropriately – there was that word again – turned my head around and rested my forehead against Jacob's throat.
I was snuggling. I knew it was wrong but it had felt so right. It had been natural, a reaction, warm, nice.
He was awake, all right. His whole frame beside me stiffened, and I could feel his chin tilt as he looked down at me. My breath caught, and he must know that I was awake. With a bang I felt pathetic. It wouldn't surprise me if he now truly would think of me as crazy, if he didn't already. It wasn't enough for him to politely try to dump me once, not twice, not three times … I'd lost count. And here I was again. I just couldn't take the hint, could I?
My heart had started reeling again, like so often lately. I could feel his breaths on the top of my head. My cheeks had started to burn, and I soundlessly cleared my throat to prepare for a mumbled apology. I would have pulled away, if he hadn't put his hand around my shoulder.
The movement was hesitant, unsure for a second, barely touching me. Then, as if deciding something, he gently wrapped one arm around me, holding me there. My heart was in shock, and my mind felt numb. As if to compensate, my body acted on autopilot again. My head somehow moved closer. I had nothing to do with it, it was all autopilot. Jacob Black was snuggling back.
I could feel his eyes on me. Then, very calmly, he put his hand on the side of my face, stroking it down my hair. It was such a gentle, unexpected move that it made me look up, facing him. We looked at each other for a long time. His eyes were serious, thoughtful, his hand still resting by my neck. I couldn't think, couldn't do anything. We looked at each other, and then he leaned closer. Our lips met, briefly. He kissed me. No more than a few seconds, not long, not quite sure if it was allowed. Then he pulled back. Our eyes met, and I smiled a little. He did too.
I rested my head back against his throat. He stroke my hair again. All was quiet. And then, for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.
I must have fallen asleep again because when I woke, the sun was up and I was alone on the couch. Groggily I pushed myself up and freed my legs which were thoroughly tangled up in the blanket. I looked around. For a moment I wondered if the whole thing had been a dream or not. I could hear clunking in the kitchen though. Jacob was up. I briefly touched my lips, wondering.
He entered just then, and I looked up at him feeling slightly bewildered. He had a warm smile on his face, which broadened as he saw my expression. No doubt my appearance was smile-provoking.
"Hey," he said, and placed a cup of tea on the table in front of me before he sat down. We looked at each other for a moment. His smile was warmer than I had ever seen it, his eyes shining. He looked tired too, his eyes a little puffy and his hair ruffled. "You look like you're thinking really hard about something," he said.
I squinted, which made him laugh. "Yeah," I said, feeling dumb. I didn't really know what to say, or how, so all I came up with was; "I think I fell asleep."
"Yeah," he said as well. "Me too."
I reached out and took a sip from the tea. It was good, and cleared my head some from the groggy feeling, so I took another sip. I could feel something by my ear just then, and looked up over the cup to find Jacob lightly brushing hair away from my face and gently place it behind my ear. His fingertips tickled my neck as he did, which again made me tingle all over. Had it not been a dream then?
He looked a bit as if he couldn't stop smiling. I imagined I must look confused, I certainly felt that way. Maybe that was what he was smiling about.
"You're a mess," he said gently, but in a tone so warm it was as if he said the complete opposite.
His fingers moved over my head again, to stroke down some locks I could feel were resisting gravity. I couldn't quite decide if this was real or not. Maybe I was still dreaming. It felt that way. I frowned at the thought.
His fingers stopped brushing over my hair.
"What?" he said, his voice suddenly unsure as he noticed my frown. He retrieved his hand.
I wished he hadn't. But, if this was a dream, it would be hell waking up no matter what so I might as well get it over with. I put my cup of tea down on the table, and turned to him, my lips pressed tightly together. I held my arm out in front of him.
He had been looking at me with unsure eyes, but now he frowned too, looking down my arm. "What?" he said again.
"You need to pinch me," I clarified, pressing my eyes together and waiting to wake up in my own bed, cold and alone. "My sleep-routines have been really messed up lately so I'm not taking any chances."
Nothing happened. I waited for another few seconds, before I peeked up at him. "Come on, didn't you hear me? Pinch."
He was smiling again, his eyes so bright they made me tingle just by the look he sent me. And then he placed his hand on my arm and gently pushed it aside. He leaned in, put a hand under my chin, and then he said; "Seriously Bella, you're a mess," in the same tone he would use had me told me I was the most beautiful in the world. And I realized I couldn't be dreaming, as my dreams were never imaginative. He leaned closer, and then he kissed me again, more this time, less hesitant. His lips didn't taste chocolate dough as I had imagined they would, they tasted coffee, and Jacob, and they were warm and happy, just like Jacob was. He kissed me long enough for my breaths to speed up, not long enough for me to faint, and when he pulled back, he smiled and stroke my cheek again and looked pretty much like the happiest person on earth.
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