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Rated M (themes)

Notes: continues scenario & characters established in "Finger Food"

Prompt: Vanity

Staring down at Isabella, it was obvious that she was caught between fear and arousal… which was just where Edward wanted her. Still, she had a few things at her advantage: one, he was having a harder time reading her now that she was one of them. He'd never been able to read her mind, so that hadn't changed, but physical cues like a quickened heartbeat or her telltale blush were now gone as well.

"Isabella," he said, lowering himself so that their noses were nearly touching. "Do you still want me?"

"Yes," she whispered, her palms still against his chest, lightly pushing him away.

"So…" he closed the gap, kissing her.

She let him. He lay flat over her, covering her with his body, pushing his hips against where he wanted to be sans clothing.

She moaned, turning her head so that his lips slid to her neck. "Stop," she whispered.

Rolling his eyes, Edward rolled off of her, adjusting himself as he did so. "What."

She glared at him. "What do you mean, 'what'? I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost, an easy lay-"

"But you already were," he smirked.

In a flash, she was on top of him, slapping him, one cheek and then the other.

Her newborn strength was no joke; the blows actually hurt. "Damn it," he snapped, grabbing her wrists in his hands. "Relax."

"No," she growled, yanking her hands away and jumping off. She sat at the edge of the bed, almost shaking in rage.

"Because you're a feisty little newborn, I'm just going to deal with your tantrums and mood swings and desire to attack…even though I think we both know you just need to be done right, and you want me to do it."

She turned her head slowly, the disgust on her face apparent. "Ugh. Your vanity knows no bounds," she said.

Easing off the bed, Edward strode to the window, gazing out at the maelstrom of snow outside. "I asked you before and I'll ask again: What. Do. You. Want. From. Me?"

"I wanted to be with you, but I'm starting to realize that's not possible," she said, slouched in resignation.

"What are you talking about?" Frustrated, he scowled over his shoulder at her. "We could've been together just now …you pushed me off-"

"Because all you want is sex. I want that, but I want all of you. I don't want to be alone in this life, Edward."

Ah. She wanted a mate.

While he wasn't necessarily opposed to that – she was undeniably attractive, after all – he wasn't sure it was the best choice for him. He knew what sex with her was like, and while it had been quite good (barring the fact he hadn't finished) he wasn't sure it was worth shunning all other females, both human and vamp, for all of eternity.

Isabella mistook Edward's equivocating for a solid "no" and left the room.

Turning away from the window, he traced her steps down the hall and then the stairs. He wasn't used to this. Most of the female vampires the Cullens associated with enjoyed sex for sport…

Well, except for Carlisle's Esme. She'd only ever been with one other man besides him, and that had been years ago, before her change. Carlisle seemed happy enough with her; perhaps that was who Edward needed to speak to.

Emmett and Jasper eyed him suspiciously at the bottom of the stairs.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"What did you to her?" Emmett asked, folding his arms. He seemed… protective.

"Nothing, bro. She won't let me do anything to her," he shrugged. "Where's Carlisle?"

"Kitchen."

Unfortunately, so were Esme and Isabella. Well, it was now or never; Edward had neither the time nor the patience for drawn out drama and weird feelings.

"Isabella wants to be my mate," he announced, sitting next to her. She gaped up at him, her eyes the size of saucers.

"You – you ass!" she hissed, scraping her chair back as if she was going to make another run for it.

"Please," he sighed, shoving her chair back to where it had been, trapping her. He was in no mood for histrionics.

"Edward," Esme said, quiet warning in her voice.

"Sorry, I'm just…she's just…" Edward trailed off, frowning. Women had always wanted him for physical reasons, and that was fine. For decades he'd found meaning in art, literature, philosophy and travel. He couldn't pretend that he'd been lonely and longing for a mate, because he honestly hadn't been.

Then again, he'd never changed anyone into a vampire, either. Edward hadn't been lying to Isabella when he'd told her that he'd felt inexplicably dawn to her from the beginning. He had written it off as powerful attraction, lust of the most intense kind, but maybe it was more…

"How would you feel if Bella were to join with Emmett? Would that be okay? He's taken such a liking to her," Carlisle said, smiling kindly.

"What?" Edward erupted from his chair, knocking it over.

Bella looked frantic now, shaking her head as she looked between Edward and Carlisle.

"How does that make you feel?" Esme asked, motioning for him to pick up the chair.

"I don't, I, she can't – " Edward sputtered. How did it make him feel? "He can't have her," he said finally.

"Well then. Obviously you can't expect Bella to sit quietly and wait while you … fraternize with another woman, now can you?" Esme said, smiling slyly. She ran her fingers soothingly through Isabella's long brown hair.

Such pretty hair… Edward remembered the first time he saw her, how her hair hung down her back, its rich darkness a fine compliment to that pale, creamy skin, her breasts that he still hadn't seen…

"And why not?" Carlisle asked quietly, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Because… I changed her. She…" Edward frowned, confused by his feelings. "She belongs to me."

Isabella looked at him, also confused. If she belonged to him, what did that entail?

"You said upstairs I could be with whomever I wanted," she reminded him.

"I don't want you with Emmett," Edward argued.

"I don't want her," Emmett called room the other room where he and Jasper were obviously eavesdropping. "No offense, Bella."

"It's okay," she said, smiling a little. "I don't want you either."

Carlisle stood, patting Isabella's shoulder. "Edward'll figure it out. We have to make a run to town, we'll be back a little later."

Edward and Isabella were left alone in the kitchen, avoiding one another's stares. Awkwardness was normal for her, but it was foreign to him. These sorts of emotions really complicated things, didn't they?

"So, I belong to you?" she said after several minute. She stood, walking over to Edward.

"Mhm," he gazed down at her, inches away.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Edward could sense it; she wanted him. He wanted her, too. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he'd never wanted anyone more. There. He'd admitted it - to himself, at least.

Keeping space between their bodies, he held her face between his hands and kissed her, not gently, but not rudely either.

"I can be yours," he said, breaking away. "I suppose."

He grinned when she made a face. "I'm teasing you, now," he said.

"Oh," she smiled too, tentatively.