We've only been here about an hour, and they've already played this song about eight times, I informed Edward, collapsing in the black leather and tabled booth where we'd set our coats upon arriving. People had courtesy here, and no one had taken our seat - or our jackets, thank god.
I leaned against Edward's shoulder as he slid in next to me, listening to the song that not only had been played a lot here, but that I'd heard all through the day - in the metro, on the TV in our hotel room, pretty much anywhere that plays music. I mean, I absolutely adored Gwen Stefani, I didn't care what anyone said, I thought she was cool, and 'The Sweet Escape' was a really good song…but damn. I had a feeling I was going to hear it more this week than I ever will in my life again. Apparently she wasn't majorly popular in just Japan. (It's true, when I went - I know it's not the same now but whatever - when I went, this was the most popular song.)
Well I think we've been doing pretty good so far, despite the odds, Edward signed, leaning in to kiss my neck sweetly, and I giggled as I tilted my head. Dance wise. Very…very good. His lips lingered on my cheek, near my ear, his sweet warm breath fanning around the rim of it. One of his hands moved to my tight-clad thigh and started stroking it seductively.
I moaned softly, squirming and pressing my thighs together tightly to try to stop - or, possibly, ignore - the tingling starting in between them.
Dancing with Edward to jazz music had been very fun, and innocent. Club dancing with Edward had been fun in an erotic way, and mind-blowingly sensual. The way it felt to have my body pressed tight against his - the slight frustration of the restricting clothes adding an extra flare and high to the sensation. Moving my hips against his upper thighs, resting my head on his chest as I clutched at the front on his shirt in an effort to remain standing, his chest warm, solid, and there, a safe haven for me to sink into while the rest of his body teased me with the most exquisite type of torture.
And then, when he'd flipped me around, his hands going to my hip bones and pressing my back end to him aggressively, dominantly; deliciously. I'd bit my lip and let my head fall back on his shoulder, letting his hands control my body. My arms, of their own desire, had lifted above my head to wrap around his neck, my fingers twisting in his silken bronze hair. No matter what the music called for, I usually ignored it and a majority of the time we took it slow, grinding against each other at a lusciously agonizing pace. Each movement was deliberate, so we could really feel, adding something more than if we had let our wild instincts take control. Our breathing wasn't fast, but it was heavy and labored, and all the more arousing because it wasn't physical exertion that caused it; our movements were far too careful and slow. It was each other; it was the texture and touch and feeling of every soft sigh, every rub of fabric on fabric, every time his hand left my hip bone to brush the one on my collar, my bare skin lighting aflame at his barely there caress.
Every time he bent his head to whisper, "I love you," in my ear, and I'd turned my head to meet his gaze; chocolate meeting jewel, and I'd lost myself a little more in him. Our lips brushed, but never applied any pressure; only the promise of a kiss. The whole thing had felt so good, and I had been afraid to close my eyes for even one second to enjoy it more for fear of missing anything; even if I just stared at the red shadows dancing on his pale skin from the deep, low crimson light that embodied the whole club, enhanced by the dark wood, almost black, that reflected the varying shades of red light; ranging from Alizarin, to Cardinal, to Rust, to Burgundy.
"Bella…" Edward said then, his voice low and seductive, his lips at my ear now. "Bella," he crooned again, though I was tensed, waiting for whatever he was going to ask of me, that I knew - despite the fact that it probably wasn't a good commitment - that I'd do it. I believe…that you owe me…a dance.
My breath let out in a gust. Oh, right. My joking lap dance that was being taken very seriously by the sex-craving - though, he was in no way starved - man next to me, whom I could deny very little to.
"Edward," I whispered, starting to feel a little scared. I don't know if I can do it.
I fully believe in you, he assured me. Trust me, I know it'll feel good no matter what, if only for the simple fact that we're touching.
But…but, we're in public! I tried to reason, feeling a little panicky and not at all tempting or seductive.
He grabbed my waist then and sat me side saddle on his lap, scooting over in the booth at a remarkably quick pace, until we were completely obscured in the deep blood red shadow against the wall, and I knew - as did he - that we were practically invisible to the outside viewer.
I was nervous. I bit my lip and looked down at our laps, my hands folded but fidgeting over mine. My eyes scanned the club quickly, before dropping back down to stare at the third button on Edward's shirt, memorizing the pale, cloudy swirl on the small, light colored piece of plastic, contemplating how I was going to pull this off.
You don't have to if you don't want to, Edward told me then, rubbing my back when he was done.
He was just too sweet, and understanding toward me. He deserved this. I wanted to do it too…it would've just been a lot easier if I wasn't inexperienced.
'Ah, it can't be that hard,' I reasoned with myself. 'Shouldn't my instincts take over anyway?' I tried to ignore the cynical part of me that was drawling, 'Ah yes. Lap Dances. That favorite age old ritual! …Yup, the instincts for that run deep.'
Taking in a deep breath I looked into Edward's darkly glittering green eyes - the only reason I could see them being that I was so close - and found the courage there to swing one of my legs over the other side of his lap, holding myself on my knees. I placed my hands on his shoulders, before inching closer, till my crotch was directly over his, the rough denim making a delicious friction as it brushed the thin material of my sheer tights, and small underwear underneath adding hardly anything.
Edward groaned and his hands went to grab my hips, but I held them in my own hands before he could, smiling and shaking my head as I placed his on the leather seat - indicating a new 'no touch' policy. His eyes darkened even more as his nostrils flared, but I could see in his face - and feel, other places - that he was turned on by the prospect.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his softly, tilting my head, my hands running up and down his arms. His lips moved against mine hungrily, and opening my eyes slightly I could see his hands curled into rigid fists on the black leather, tensed from self-control. Feeling more confident because of that, I slowly lowered myself down so I fully sat all my weight on him, feeling the denim and his shirt pressed very tight between my legs and against my front.
I removed my lips from his as we both moaned, and just leaned my forehead against his, closing my eyes. His breath was heavy as it mixed with mine, his strong chest rising and falling against my own, meeting my rhythm perfectly.
Swallowing, I began to gyrate my hips on top of him, pressing down. I could feel his arousal beneath my clothed center, and I rocked on top of him, the delicious friction intensifying. Edward let out a low hiss, his head falling back against the seat, and his hands jerking as if to grab me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my head drop onto the crook of his neck, my breathing labored. "Edward," I whimpered quietly, just needing to say his name as electricity shot through me from our actions, and the abrasion the clothes presented. I could feel his jeans rubbing my center, and out of pure desire I tilted my hips forward, letting the rough material rub my bundle of nerves, and my breathing changed to a near gasp.
At my hips movements, Edward let out a loud groan and, abandoning the rules, grabbed my hips roughly and rocked me faster and harder on top of him. I cried out into his skin, biting down to muffle it. He growled at that, his hands tightening to a point that I knew I'd have light bruises. He lifted himself off of the seat slightly, still pushing me down as hard as he could, and I threw my head back in ecstasy, the feeling and frustration of restricting fabric unbelievable.
Lost in my passion, I quickly reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down just enough that the denim cleared his manhood. He'd allowed the movement, his eyes dark and wild and full of unbridled desire as he watched me. I settled myself back down on him over his boxers, now feeling more than before and loving it. I grinded down harder on him, swaying my upper body as well for his viewing pleasure as I placed my wrists around his neck, locking my fingers behind his head, my arms straight now from the distance I'd put between our torsos' - though our lower bodies were still locked together and gyrating.
"Bella," he growled, watching my little dance through half-lidded eyes. I knew he was getting closer to his release - I knew I was. I wasn't going to last much longer, and I reached down to his hands - bringing them back up to touch my breasts, aching for his loving yet passionate caress. His hands massaged and put the right pressure in the just the right places. He took my nipples between his talented fingers, rolling them around before palming them again, pulling me closer. His mouth met mine, and that was it - the complete overload of senses and sensations. His warm lips melding to my own, his hands caressing a place made for him alone it felt like, and our hidden spots of desire rubbing and grinding and gyrating against the other. It was too much - and my world exploded as I grabbed onto his shoulders and let his mouth muffle my cries. He continued moving, and a few moments later - after it was becoming just too much for me and it felt I'd have to die from the pleasure - he came too, staining his boxers with wet.
We broke away gasping, and I sat there on him for a little while, too overcome and limp and relaxed to get up. His arms wound around me, his breath heavy but changing back to normal as he whispered, "I love you," in my ear, kissing and nuzzling my neck.
Finally, I took a deep breath and clambered awkwardly off his lap, collapsing next to him on the seat, leaning on his shoulder, like earlier. Edward lifted his hips slightly to pull his jeans back up. Though it wasn't why I had done it, it seemed like a pretty good idea now - his jeans had no stains on it, which would've been really embarrassing for him.
So, was it everything you dreamed of? I teased, letting a finger trail down his chest.
And more, he grinned back, before leaning down to kiss me softly. I placed my hand on his cheek gently, and I moved my mouth against his for a few more moments before I broke away.
Want a drink? I asked, my smile bright. Drinking age is lower here, you know.
Miss Swan, he signed, his face full of teasing outrage, This wouldn't be an elaborate scheme to intoxicate me so you can take full advantage of my lonesome later, is it?
I smiled, looking away with mock sheepishness and guilt. Well, I don't know about elaborate scheme, but yeah, essentially.
He kissed my cheek. Sure, "love." You can pick, I don't care.
I grinned and hopped out of the booth. I saw Edward scoot over to the edge, no doubt so he could watch me. I quickly rearranged my rumpled dress and then walked over to the bar.
It was all going pretty well until I started making my way back around the dance floor with the drinks in hand. The pulsing lights and slinking bodies were an interesting sight, and gave it all a slightly unreal feel. But that was cool, I didn't want to exist for just a little while, so long as Edward was there.
Suddenly there was an unfamiliar arm slinging itself around my shoulder.
I froze, stiffening automatically, clutching the glass bottles in my hands tighter. I slowly turned my head, to look into the face of a man I had never seen before, grinning at me. "Hey gorgeous," the man slurred. Hm. He was American, judging by thr accent. Figures. "You wanna - hic - have some fun?"
My lip curled in disgust, as I said, "Um, no thanks." I attempted to pull away then, but his grip tightened.
He stared at me, his gaze trying to come back in focus as he wobbled slightly, leaning more on me. "Don't be like that baby. Let's go have some - hic - ...fun."
"Yeah, it's called you getting the fuck off me," I muttered before I wrenched out his grasp and started walking hurriedly away. It wasn't fast enough though, apparently, because the next second that same hand was on my shoulder again, except this time it was shoving me roughly around, causing me to stumble a bit.
His face was shocking. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth in a furious grimace as his fingernails dug into my shoulder. "Don't...walk away from me...again...understand?" he said, his eyes flashing. He was still wobbling, but I had no doubt he had enough strength in his body to knock me out easily given the chance. He lurched forward then, his hands outstretched to grab my hips.
And then there was a great cracking sound coming from his face, as a pale fist smashed into his cheek, effectively knocking off his grip on me and sending him tumbling to the ground. A furious, ripping, feral snarl erupted from beside me, and I whipped my head around to see Edward, his expression blacker than pitch - even blacker than when we'd seen Tyler after the 'incident' - staring down at the dazed, injured man. Edward's arm wound around my waist and then he was tugging me behind him. We had gotten the entirety of our half of the cabin's attention by now, and they were starting to form a circle around us. Hurriedly, I shoved the drinks into the of the onlookers near me's hands and tried to step up next to Edward, but he kept me back with his hand, his eyes never leaving the guy on the floor struggling to his feet. I frowned deeply. This was ridiculous. I could fight - I didn't need to be defended. And I didn't want Edward hurt - something I think I had proven on numerous occasion, namely the time where I took a huge blow to my head for him. Though, that was probably exactly why he was doing this - to make up for it.
The man had staggered to his feet by then, and his expression was dark as he glared at Edward. He stared right back. The man's breathing was heavy, and then he whispered, "Oh, you're going to pay for that one boy." There was moment of stillness, the calm before the storm, before the man lunged.
"No!" I cried, as the crowd surged forward, blocking my attempt to jump into the fray.
The man's fist came near Edward's face, but it never landed. Edward's hand shot up and he grabbed the fist in his palm, before twisting the arm back violently and punching the guy in the face again, knocking him to his knees. Growling, the guy jumped at Edward's legs, sending him tumbling toward the ground as well, where they rolled around, continuing their fighting. It was hard to see who exactly was getting hurt - and I hoped to anything that Edward wasn't.
Cheers and screams and encouragements were coming from everyone as they enjoyed the fight, before finally, Edward stood up, emerging victorious from the nearly unconscious inebriated male on the floor. His breathing was heavy as he stumbled back a few steps, staring down at the guy in triumph and unconcealed loathing.
"Edward." The name emerged from my lips in a furious whisper, unable to hold it back. I pushed angrily through the people squishing my sides tightly and rushed up to him, putting my hands on his arms and quickly scanning his body for any noticeable damage. I couldn't see any - yet - and that was good. The fool actually had the nerve to grin down at me, and I just gave him the darkest glower I could muster while relief pumped through me, instinctive and strong.
"Hey lad!" came the cry then from an Irish bloke at the bar, with the corresponding accent. "You whipped up quite a fury boy! But the men in arms are a'comin' - might want to run before ya get deported, eh?"
"Shit," I whispered, my eyes widening as I looked back at Edward. He immediately seemed to get it, and he grabbed my hand and started running with me through the cheering, parting crowd, back to our booth to grab our jackets and then out of the club and along the river Seine. The cold wind whipping past us was not as frosty as it should've been; not with our flushed bodies, adrenaline pumping through us and increasing our temperature.
Edward laughed then against the wind as we ran at breakneck speed away from the scene of the crime - out of shock, disbelief, the thrill of the flight, and from the complete scandal of it all. And even though I was murderously angry with him, for the moment I couldn't help but to join in as we stole away through the night in the City of Lights.
We collapsed against the brick wall of a narrow, shockingly tidy alley a little while later, out of breath. I panted heavily, rubbing my chest as the cold air that had rushed into my mouth as I ran burned and tore up my throat. I tried swallowing, though that too hurt tremendously.
Edward was breathing heavy too, putting his arm around my shoulder and resting his head on the corner of it. But I pushed away from him roughly and crawled to crouch in front of him, looking again for bruises. There was none on his face, as it stood.
Are you hurt? I demanded, making it very clear with my facial expression and body language that I was about hurt him if the other guy hadn't done the job.
Edward shook his head at me.
Really, I signed, my face skeptical and disbelieving. You didn't hit you at all?
Edward scowled, looking away. Well, maybe he got in one or two hits, but it's nothing to worry about.
Too late. I started worrying a long time ago. I glared at him. Unbutton your shirt, I demanded. I had to check to see if the bruises were there - and how bad they were, exactly.
But it's cold! he protested, making no move to obey me.
Well, I began, unsympathetic. You should have thought of that before you got in a fucking brawl, you idiot!
The next second I was being tugged forcefully into his lap, my face landing near his. His eyes were narrowed, the naturally emerald green darker as his eyes probed mine. The hand that wasn't still gripping my forearm tightly reached up to brush the side of my face lightly; my cheekbones, my nose, my lips, my forehead. His proximity was quickly making my anger die down to a few glowering embers, and I allowed him to lean forward and press his lips to mine softly.
"Bella..." he said slowly, releasing me. I couldn't just let that guy get away with what he tried to do. I'll never let any man get away with that. You deserve to be treated better than that, and that kind of disrespect is absolutely unacceptable. Plus - his eyes narrowed again - You are mine. No one else gets to touch you...not like I do.
I sighed, nodding, and wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder. To my horror, my throat closed up and a sob ripped through me as I held onto him, the force of it shaking my body. I tried to hide my tears in his jacket, but he was yanking my face up then, his face terrified. What? What is it?
I swallowed, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. Nothing. It's stupid. Just everything catching up to me, I guess. I just...don't want you to get hurt. I bit my lip at my last confession, my eyes welling up with tears again.
"Bella..." Edward said, his voice soothing as he kissed my tears, my eyes, my nose. "Bella, Bella, I love you." I'm fine, really, he assured, kissing my trembling lips.
Hold me, please, I asked, looking down as a great desire to be comforted overwhelmed me. His arms wound tightly around my frame, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, closing my eyes and letting myself be consumed by his warm presence, very solid, and real, and whole around me.
"I love you," he whispered, kissing my hair as one hand came up to run through it soothingly.
This was why I could never stay mad at Edward. Sure, we argued sometimes, but we'd only ever had one full blown fight - and it had been one of the most excruciatingly painful times of my life, that I had no desire to repeat.
The seventeen year old girl hopped into her best friend's car, buckling up quickly and looking out the window briefly as her friend got in the driver's seat. She turned to look at him, her eyes dancing, as he fastened his own safety belt.
Hey, she signed then, a bright smile across her face. Can you just drop me off at home today?
This immediately made the boy freeze, his hand on the ignition to start the car; but instead he turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. Why? he asked.
I don't have to tell you why. Just do it.
Please.
She sighed, unable to deny him anything - she'd never really been able to. I'm just going over to a new friend's house, she told him. You know, that new exchange student from the UK I told you about? Ian? Yeah, well he said that he had some books that could only be gotten exclusively in the UK, and he's going to let me borrow them! She smiled enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement at the prospect. Of course, I'm letting him borrow some too.
You're going over to a guy's house? he asked, his mouth hardening and brow furrowing.
She rolled her eyes. Yeah, so? I go over to your house all the time, Dad.
He raised his hands to say something else, but then just dropped them, turning his head to look back out the windshield. He twisted the key and started the car, backing up and speeding away toward her house as usual. He braked and parked when they arrived, and let his hands drop again, staring unseeingly out of the glass in front of him. Bella stared at him a moment before shrugging, and hopping out of the car. As she reached for the doorknob to her house, she turned around to see if he was still in the car, and jumped a little upon discovering he was right behind her, bouncing from foot to foot edgily. Curious, her hand slid from the knob and she turned around to face him fully.
He took a deep breath and raised his hands. Are you two going to be alone? he asked then, staring steadfastly at a point over he shoulder.
She refrained from rolling her eyes - barely - but scowled. How am I supposed to know? Maybe. Now, are you done acting like my parents? She couldn't believe where he was going with this.
He slid his gaze over to meet hers, his tight green eyes meeting her hard brown ones. Why can't you just exchange books at school?
This time she didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Because that's cumbersome, she signed, her face annoyed, verging on pissed.
He took another deep breath. Alright. Let me just say it. There is really only one reason he wants you to go over there. And it's not to 'exchange books'.
Her mouth dropped, before she closed it and glared at him. You're unbelievable! You know what, I didn't even ask you. This isn't your business.
He scowled at her fiercely, his eyes flashing. Fine then. Whatever. Don't listen to me, and go get raped. See if I care. You'll probably enjoy it anyway. His eyes burned black holes into the cement at their feet as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
There was a moment where plain shock zapped through Bella's body; disbelief that he had pretty much just called her a whore. But then, anger caught up, and when it did -
SMACK.
Edward stumbled back slightly, though more from shock than actual force. His eyes widened, before narrowing immediately after, as he rubbed the slight red mark on his cheek where her palm had hit him - hard.
She was breathing heavily through her nose, as if she had just run a marathon. Her eyes were narrowed and dangerous and flashing. She shook her head slightly as she breathed out a harsh, sarcastic, humorless laugh. And you know what? It's not even like I can scream at you right now, because you couldn't hear it anyway.
And with that she twirled around, refusing to look at his face as fury pumped through her veins. She opened her front door in a flash and slammed it in his face, before she ran to her room and crashed that door shut too. She just stood there for a few long moments, breathing as if winded, before she slowly slid down to the floor.
Though it had been far below the belt and she knew it, she hadn't felt sorry for what she'd said until now. But guilt was coursing through her system like ice; along with the tricklings of hurt, pain, sorrow, humiliation, and fury, chewing through her like acid. She buried her face in her arms and allowed herself to cry as her body froze, all plans to go anywhere left quite forgotten.
--
It had been two weeks since they'd last spoken. In the halls, whenever they had to pass each other, they stuck to opposite sides and stared at anything else beside the other one. Bella walked to and from school every day now, and when she got home, she just curled up on her bed, hiding and doing nothing.
The anger she had maintained was almost completely gone now, replaced by an aching loneliness. In distancing herself from Edward, she also saw very little of the rest of her friends: the Cullens' and the Hales'. She didn't even see them at lunch, because she hid out in the library now, instead of eating. It would just be too hard to see them all sitting there, and to go sit by herself. And it would cut her even more if no one moved over to sit with her - not even Alice - and she didn't want to have to deal with that if it was the case. But she missed them all terribly.
She was becoming more and more desperate, and desolate. At the end of the two weeks, she even had a jacket in her hands, standing at her window at midnight, debating to herself. It'd be easy to sneak over there and apologize and just move on. And then, everything would be alright again, and she wouldn't be a miserable wreck; even Renée didn't want to be around her anymore, so long as she was this 'mopey'. She was just about to open her window, when she decided against it.
'He started this!' she reasoned with herself. 'It's not my fault. I mean, yeah, the comment was pretty harsh, but I wouldn't have said it if he hadn't provoked me. I'm always the one crawling back to him…so he can man up and come apologize, or we can just stay like this. I can survive…'
But surviving was really hard when you weren't complete in yourself. Often, Bella found herself curled up on the ground, gasping for air and trying to breathe without her lungs. She had always known that he was a big part of her, but had never really known the extent until now. Not until the first time she tried to stand up, and fell instead. How does one stand when one of their legs are gone? When half of her mind, her body, her heart... were just… gone. Her chest hurt.
--
It was the end of the third week of separation. Bella had just passed Edward in the hall, scuttling faster, and trying not to sneak glances of him from under her eyelashes but finding it impossible. Was he suffering as well? Did he care? Was breathing hard for him too, or were his lungs intact? She figured he wasn't hurting nearly as bad as she. After all, he still had his family and the rest of his friends. She was the only one really alone.
She was just passing by two girls at their locker when their conversation unwillingly reached her ears.
"Hey Cindy! I found this cool quote yesterday - and yes, I was supposed to be doing homework but whatever - but I really like it! It reminds me of like…every break up ever." They shared a laugh.
"Alright, what is it?" asked Cindy, and Bella found herself slowing in spite of herself.
"Okay." The girl cleared her throat theatrically. "'It's sad when people you know become people you knew. When you can walk past them like they were never a big part of your life. How you used to be able to talk for hours, and now…you can barely even look at them.' Pretty cool, right?"
"Yeah, it was - "
But what it was Bella never found out, because she ducked into the nearest girls room then, and finding it mercifully empty, locked herself in a stall, ignoring the late bell that had just rung. She sank to the floor slowly, and sobbed silently, trying to hold herself together in one piece.
--
Thirty days. It had been thirty…long…days. The circles under her eyes were darker than ever, and it wasn't helping that it was one in the morning, and she was still just staring at her ceiling in the dark, like usual. A month. It had been a month since they'd last exchanged words, shared a laugh. No contact, at all.
She fretted in the dark, worry and anxiety causing stomach acid to swirl and slosh sickeningly in her stomach. Was this the normal length of a fight? It didn't feel right. What if…what if this was permanent? Some kind of unrepairable damage, and her stubbornness had been making it worse? She couldn't, couldn't live without him. But what could she do about her…best friend. Or were they that anymore? Her throat tightened at the possibility.
There was a rapping at her window then, and she gasped, jumping and sitting up, staring wide-eyed at her covered window. Slowly, she rose from her twisted sheets and walked over to the window, throwing the orange curtain aside.
And there he was. Like a dream, Edward leaned against her window, his eyes filled with regret and shame. They stared at each other a moment before Bella unlatched the window and pushed it up, before crossing her arms. He stayed outside though, understanding that wasn't exactly permission to come in, though you'd think it was. They stared at each other again, as Bella tried to keep up with her stern façade. But it was so hard, when relief and happiness was coursing through her veins, washing away the pain and misery that felt like dirt staining her skin. It was being siphoned away now, though, as the ghost of her other half brushed past her, promising a feeling of wholeness if she let him in.
So she did, unfolding her arms, and opening them to him. That was all he needed. He climbed through her window gracefully, and rushed to embrace her like a starving man that was being fed. He buried his face in her hair as she did the same with him, breathing him in and reveling in her new-found lungs. There was no need to say anything - they both understood everything about each other in that moment. All the pain, the misery, the regret. No apologies needed to be spoken when they were already perfectly clear. So they just gripped each other tightly, afraid to let go and feel ripped apart again.
I grabbed Edward's hand and made him stop his ascent as I collapsed on the rocky ground, panting. It was our last day in Paris, and we had come to the outskirts of the city held in a bowl, where the mountains and forests were. Edward wanted to get to the top of where we were soon for some reason, but my lungs were burning. It really wasn't the exertion, since I was pretty fit - it was the cold air, scorching my throat. It was still cold - though warmer than it had been since our arrival - but my body didn't feel it as much, since I was flushed from the exercise. My lungs screamed in protest, however, toward the biting, unforgiving temperature.
Edward sat down next to me, handing me the water bottle that I chugged gratefully before recapping it and handing it back. He smiled at me. Come on, it's just a little farther. We're almost there.
You said that an hour ago, I glared, but it was true this time. I could see the top of peak of where we were now.
Edward grabbed my hand and we commenced the hiking again - his firm grip needed quite direly since I kept tripping over all the loose rocks and dirt.
I glanced over and saw Edward patting his pocket frequently, like he was checking to make sure something was still there. I could understand that - if he lost his wallet, we'd be pretty much completely screwed.
We made it to the top, finally, about ten minutes later, and I dropped my small pack to the ground, exhausted.
Hungry? Edward asked, sitting down on a blanket he'd pulled out. I gratefully went to sit next to him on it, not feeling like having my butt freeze from the icy ground. I nodded to his question as I snuggled into his side, grateful for the body warmth. It seemed like he'd been warming me up a lot these days…and the way he usually managed it made me wish it was colder in Phoenix. But I didn't want to do that out here…not with the air being as cold as it was, even though it'd be a relief to not have to muffle my screams.
He pulled some fruits and cheese and juice from his backpack. I smiled at the little picnic, and picked up some grapes. Want some? I asked him, smiling slyly at him from the corner of my eyes. He grinned back, which I took as an affirmative.
I gently pulled him into a laying position, placing his head in my lap. He smiled hugely, liking where this was going, no doubt, as I brought the vine of grapes down to his mouth. He bit one off with his teeth, closing his eyes and bringing his arms up to wrap around my waist. I couldn't help myself from leaning down, and kissing him. My hair fell like a curtain around us as he moved his hands to bury them in it. I set the grapes down so I could grip his cheeks in my hands, as his tongue reached out to touch mine.
Now, why'd you want to get up here so fast? I asked, when we broke away a few minutes later.
His eyes glanced to the side and he smiled, but quickly covered my eyes before I could. He stood up, still blindfolding me with his hand, and helped me to a standing position, spinning me around and placing one hand on my waist.
Then, he removed his hand, wrapping his arms around me and placing his head on my shoulder.
I couldn't believe I hadn't seen this view before, but I'd been too wrapped up in Edward I guess. From our height, I could see all of the city panning out before me. You could really see how sunken the city was in it's little bowl of land, and a gray, magical mist hung over the city, permeating it with an even more exaggerated sense of wonder. And it was sunset too, now. I could see it starting. The sun broke through the smoky, thin clouds and shattered the sky with color and beauty. It almost made me heart ache, looking upon such a breath taking sight.
Next to me, I could feel Edward take in a deep breath, and his arms tightened with an edge. I turned, curious, and he turned me sideways, stepping in front of me. He took my hand in his and kissed it lightly, breathing deeply again as he stared at his feet. He looked…nervous, and he wouldn't meet my gaze. I placed a hand on his cheek, wondering what was up. He met my gaze then, and leaned forward to kiss me quickly, sweetly. He reached his other hand into his pocket.
And then bent down on one knee, his hand still holding mine.
I stood, frozen, as he looked up at me from under his long, thick eyelashes, his eyes smoldering from with intensity. Love reverberated through the endless depths of emerald green, the sinking sun making his archangel face even more longingly beautiful.
"Bella," he said, opening the small velvet box he'd pulled out to reveal a beautiful ring. "I love you. …Marry me?"
Alright, three things.
1) I have a poll up on my profile, concerning this story. I strongly suggest you check it out and vote, especially all those who want Edward's POV so much.
2) Sorry for the delay. I had most of this written a few days ago, and it was really late at night, so I decided to just finish it in the morning. Well, upon waking up, what do I find except that it didn't. Effing. Save. So I had rewrite pretty much the whole thing. And as if that wasn't depressing enough, my computer's been down, so yeah. Needless to say, I am very pissed and frustrated right now. However, lots of nice, LONG reviews might help me! Thanksya! Last time I didn't get nearly as many reviews as I normally get, which sucked, but whatever. I know how you guys love these cliffhangers, so maybe that'll help :)
3) Alright, whoever nominated my stories on Twilight Awards, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I want you guys to go vote for me, if you will, at twilightawards(dot)thisparadise(dot)com. Thank you so much, I really hope I win, because I've never won anything outside academics, and writing is my passion…you have no idea how much it would mean to me. Also, when the new rounds start up, you guys can nominate my other stories, too, again, if you would…-wink wink- Thanks guys! Go vote, please, if they're starting it! I think they have…
Alright, review!
- The Romanticidal Edwardian