Hey everyone. Thank you all for your PM's and reviews last chapter. I read and appreciate each and every one.
Thanks to my amazing beta SusanQ. Without her fixing my mistakes, I doubt any of you would be reading this.
Jedigirlsc is awesome. I tell her this at least once a week. Thank you for pre-reading and making me laugh. ;)
Ali, thanks for reading this even though you have a bad arm. I am totally taking the piss right now. Hopefully she won't get too angry.
Also, I forgot to say this last update, but thanks to twimom76. She kindly bid on me during FGB - your outtake will be started very soon.
Disclaimer: SM still owns. I still don't know why I write these.
Bella
If I was tired before, I certainly wasn't now. My heart was racing, the beat vibrating inside my chest and against my ribs. My eyes tried to adjust to the darkness in the room. The only thing keeping me from freaking out, was the hand currently in mine. What was he doing? Had he gone into the wrong room by mistake?
His expression out in the hallway had been so confusing. He'd seemed almost pained at one point before this defeated look overtook his features. I was too dazed at the time to question what he was doing, my feet simply moved behind his as he pulled me along with him. I found myself there, in Edward's bedroom, with him at my side.
To say I was stunned would have been an understatement.
He didn't allow others in his room, I knew this, he'd told me himself weeks before. Even though standing here in the dark was causing my anxiety to heighten, I liked that he couldn't see the expression upon my face. The truth was, I'd been wanting to see the inside of his room for a while now, the curiosity never fading like the sun would at dusk. I was worried that if he saw my bewildered expression, he would regret bringing me in here, ultimately telling me to leave. I didn't want to go.
His hand left mine, with the warmth gone, the room suddenly felt so cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, listening to his muffled footsteps, trying to gauge which direction he'd gone.
Illumination flooded the room, my eyes instinctively squinting against the sudden intrusion of light. He'd switched on his lamp, which wasn't that harsh or bright, but it was enough of a contrast for my eyes to momentarily see vibrant spots.
He was standing beside his bed, the lamp on the small table beside it glowing. His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck as he gazed about the room. I didn't know if he was nervous or simply tired, but that action alone let me know he wasn't comfortable.
I followed his example and took in his room for the first time. It was... normal, like any other boy's bedroom you'd see. I didn't know why I'd thought his would be any different. I hadn't had a clear cut picture in my head as to what it would be like, yet... I guess I just didn't expect this.
Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't like others in his personal space that made me expect something not quite so generic. There was nothing special about it. The walls were cream, the flooring the same shade of wood that was out in the hallway; no carpet. His bed was neat, his bedding chocolates and muted golds. He had a leather couch that looked out onto the side garden, heavy curtains at the doors leading to his balcony. He had a bookcase covering an entire wall, filled with music and books and movies. An expensive looking computer sat at his desk, clothes strewn over the back on the chair that was positioned in front of it.
I turned back to look at him, his eyes securely on my face; he'd been watching me. He was now sitting on the edge of his bed, his head bent slightly towards the floor, gazing at me through his lashes. I just stood there, staring back at him in a trance-like state, all wide eyes and frozen limbs.
"Umm, nice room," I said lowly, my voice cracking a little. I winced internally, berating myself for my stupidity. Seriously, "nice room"? - oh my god, I'm such a loser.
He didn't say anything, just gave a slight nod in response. My hands had begun to fiddle with the hem of my shirt, my fingers twisting and creasing the cotton material.
The silence was awkward and heavy, weighing down upon me like the heavy blanket Renee used to insist I cover myself with when sick, whether I needed it or not. I wanted to push the burden away and hide it on the top shelf in the hallway closet like I would when she left for work, but this wasn't as easy, it wasn't as simple as an unwanted piece of fabric.
I couldn't put it away with the old clothing that no longer fit, yet refused to be thrown out. I couldn't grimace at the dust collected on old shoe boxes. I couldn't close the door behind it and walk away.
My eyes found an old gramophone player in the corner of the room, my feet unconsciously moved towards it. It didn't fit with the rest of the room, and as my feet continued to move me forward, I started to notice other things my eyes didn't register upon first study. There were pictures – a lot of them - some in old frames, others not. Leather bound journals were stacked untidily on a shelf above his desk, not in keeping with the otherwise mostly organized room.
I allowed my hands to roam the wooden base, careful to avoid the needle, or stylus as I'd learned from an elderly woman who frequented the same library in Phoenix as I had every Thursday. She always wore the brightest red lipstick, and had these giant glasses that took up half of her face. I'd listen to her talk for hours without complaint. She was lonely, I could always tell, yet I never brought it up. Sometimes it was nice to have someone different to talk to, even if it was only for a few hours once a week.
I'd seen these old players in antique store windows on the many trips Renee and I used to take in the first week of every summer, but I had never seen one up close like this before. After reading Rumpelstiltskin as a child, I'd become mildly fascinated with spinning wheels and antique devices, so I couldn't help but smile at the fact he owned one of these.
"Does it still work?" I asked, dragging my hand away. I tucked the few strands of hair that had fallen across my face upon my perusal behind my ear, wishing I had a tie with me to keep it out of the way.
"It does," he answered me, the creak of the mattress letting me know he'd shifted. I bit the side of my lip as I turned to face him, my gaze settling on the slip of skin below his navel. He was lying across his bed, his hands palming his eyes, his chest rising in a steady ascent before falling.
I wanted to straddle his hips and peel his shirt from his skin. I wanted to run my hands down his chest as I asked him question after question about himself. It frightened me how much I just wanted.
"Why am I in here, Edward?" I whispered. "I don't understand." His hands fell from his face with a sigh, his eyes focusing on the ceiling above him.
"Honestly?" he asked. "I have no idea." I furrowed my brows, not satisfied with his answer. He must have an idea, an inkling. This was out of character for him, there had to be reason.
"Then why don't I believe you?" I said as I hesitated beside his bed. I didn't want to climb on without permission, it just felt weird.
He snapped his gaze to me, eyes hard and squinted. "I'm pretty sure I know my own mind, thanks," he said in an unfriendly tone. I felt the burn of irritation start to smolder in my veins, my cheeks warm. I didn't have to touch the skin to feel this.
"So there's no explanation?" I said angrily. "You just thought, 'hey, I know, I'll take Bella with me to bed, for no reason whatsoever'. That's such bullshit, Edward."
"Well then tell me, Miss 'I know everything'. What the fuck do you want me say? Or better yet, why do you think I dragged you in here with me, huh?" He looked so angry, so frustrated. I could feel tears threatening to flood my eyes, but I wouldn't let him see me upset like this. I was tired again, fed up with his shitty attitude.
"I'm going to my own room," I said, walking hastily around the bed to get the door. I could feel him watching me, every nerve at attention. I saw him move from my periphery, my feet moved faster in response. I wanted to leave. Now.
Arms encircled my waist, his chest at my back as I struggled against him. "Don't go," he whispered against my ear, the warmth of his breath triggering goosebumps to spread across my skin. He still sounded annoyed, but not as angry.
"I don't want to be here," I replied as I weakly tried to pry his joined hands apart. "I want to sleep."
"You can sleep here," he said lowly, moving my hair to my opposite shoulder as his lips peppered kisses on the back of my neck. I closed my eyes as his tongue lightly touched my skin, his teeth grazing certain areas that made me melt further into his frame.
I twisted around in his arms, looking up into his guarded eyes. "And if I say no?" I questioned, my palms flat to his chest.
He flicked his eyes away for a second and quickly licked his lips before replying. "You won't."
Sparks of hot fury burst through my body. He didn't know me like he thought he did. He didn't get to decide what I agreed to. He always did this to me, gave confident and arrogant answers that riled me up. I didn't know whether he did it on purpose, or whether I was overreacting. Either way they left me determined to do the complete opposite.
I tried to pull away again, and this time he let me. I frowned, expecting more of a fight. I felt disappointed he'd let me go so easily. This was so fucked up. I was so fucked up.
I took a few steps backwards before I pulled my eyes from his heated green, leaving the door open as I crossed the hall.
I slumped against the wall in my bathroom, my back sliding down the cool expanse until I was sitting on the cold ceramic tiles, the change in temperature a welcome change after the heated argument moments ago. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead against them. I couldn't do this any more... the lying, the cheating, the arguing, the guilt.
I was feeling that now. Guilt. My conscience telling me over and over that I'd done something wrong. Again.
He'd opened himself up to me, shown me a piece of himself, and I'd shoved it back at him and left. Would he even care? I squeezed my eyes shut, not knowing the answer to that. It shouldn't have mattered why he wanted me with him. I should have actions were hurtful, and I'd been doing that too much lately to the people I cared about.
The drum of my heart sped its tempo. Did I care about Edward enough to apologize? Did I care for him at all? The pace of my pulse told me yes, while my head told me no. I liked him. When he wasn't talking, it was hard not to. He was incredibly good looking, and I wasn't blind or ignorant to his charms. I wanted him in physical ways I'd never wanted anyone else. But was that it? Was that enough? Was any of this even worth all this pain and hassle?
I wanted to visit my mom and lie on the ground in front of our old house with the sun on my face as I stared at the cloudless sky. I wanted to prick myself on the same cactus plant I always managed to scrape myself on and see the red dots appear on my skin. I wanted my mom to tell me it would be okay and place a band-aid over it. I wanted the quick and easy fix.
I eventually got to my feet and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess from falling asleep, my skin blotchy and eyes a little red around the rims. I looked like shit, the anxiety evident in my features.
I rinsed my face and brushed my teeth, pulling a brush quickly through my tresses before gathering it up into a ponytail. I flicked the light switch as I exited the bathroom and walked over to the bed to change into my pyjamas. I slid the short and tank set on before changing my mind and put on full length pyjama bottoms instead. I folded my clothes neatly into a pile, depositing them on the chaise once I'd finished. I was avoiding, doing anything I could to put off going to him. I was being ridiculous and stubborn.
After folding the clothes for a third time I took a deep breath and made my way over to his room.
His door was slightly ajar, a slither of light escaping into the unlit hallway. I hesitated, telling myself he was probably asleep or busy... well as busy as he could be at two in the morning. I was trying to think up any scenario in which he wouldn't want to see me, wouldn't be there for me to talk to... to apologize to.
You're being fucking stupid. Just open the door, say... something, then you can go to sleep and have dreams of blonde hair and blue eyes and doctor's coats. And maybe a wheely chair also, as they always look fun. I wonder if I should just go see if Doctor Cullen's awake instead... I'm sure he'd be full of great advice. I bet he even has a wheely chair in his office...
I didn't get to continue my thought as my hands were somehow pushing the door open without conscious thought, my eyes immediately landed on skin... so much skin.
Edward was standing in front of his desk, his back to me, in nothing but his underwear. Yes I'd seen him in his swimming trunks before, but this was a more intimate setting. It somehow felt different.
My body began to blaze, my face and chest flushing. I didn't want to move, I simply wanted to continue looking at him, appreciate the sight. The muscles in his back stretched as he leaned forward to switch off his computer, my eyes following the movement. Good God look at that ass...
I was in some lust induced haze, ogling him shamelessly as he stood unaware of my presence. My hands were clenched together, squeezing as I tried to stop myself from walking any further. There was a bed, a mostly naked Edward, and a very horny me. Chances were I'd be flinging myself at him at any second if I gave in to my dirty mind.
His body suddenly froze, his head turned slightly to look over his shoulder. His eyes swept my body, up and down and back again. I was biting my lip so hard I was sure I'd pierce the skin. I licked my lip to soothe the ache, his gaze focusing on my mouth as I did so. He was making everything so difficult. I simply wanted to apologize, then leave, but it was impossible to think clearly when he was looking at me like that, dressed as he was.
My nipples were pressing against my cotton tank top, craving attention. I wanted to put a sign on my breasts: "Free to a Loving Home." Preferably his hands - or his mouth - being that particular home.
He was walking forward, trapping me in his salacious gaze. My mouth parted, my breaths becoming shaky.
The back of his hand slid from my elbow to my wrist, his eyes never once leaving mine. My skin felt tingly and warm. I wanted him to do it again. I was moving, his hand guiding me as he pulled me forward.
He was abruptly fully in front of me, leaning into me, chest to chest. I pushed into him, lashes fluttering as I closed my eyes. I heard the door click behind us, my back touched the smooth, painted wood.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath ghosting my lips. My eyes snapped open, confused and shocked. I opened my mouth to speak, the words getting caught in my throat. I wasn't expecting this from him.
"Why are you apologizing?" I questioned lowly. His brows furrowed as I continued. "I was being stupid... overreacting."
"No, I..." he took a deep breath. "I snapped at you, and I shouldn't have. I'm easily frustrated I guess," he said while shrugging. He dropped his gaze to the floor as he took a step away. I wanted to pull him back.
"I'm sorry too," I whispered, smiling slightly at his raised brow. "What?" I asked, glancing down at myself nervously.
"Well, look at us being all polite and shit," he smirked. "Anyone would think you didn't hate me after all."
I smiled. "I don't hate you," I told him, instantly blushing.
"No?" he questioned seriously, eyes searching my face.
"No," I answered truthfully. I wanted to tell him that I didn't think I ever did, but I wasn't ready for that, maybe never would be.
He regarded me silently for a few more seconds before speaking again. "Are you staying?" he asked wearily, glancing at me quickly before running his hand through his hair. I was torn, unsure if that was such a good idea. I wouldn't bring it up again tonight, but I still had no idea why he was doing any of this. My trust was hard to earn, and he didn't have it yet.
He seemed to be the same way – keeping everyone at a comfortable distance - yet bringing me into his personal space spoke volumes. I just didn't know what his reasons were, and until I was positive he wasn't playing more games, I would continue to be cautious and protect my heart.
If I lowered the drawbridge, allowed him inside, I was sure he'd bring me continuous hurt. He affected me so wholly at times that I knew I'd find it difficult to let him leave. I'd raise the bridge and accept the pain he caused, time and time again. It would become unhealthy, damaging, but I wouldn't care.
Edward had the ability to draw you in, ensnare you until he got bored. If I didn't keep that gap between us, I'd become engulfed in green and red, and sink. I wouldn't be resurfacing.
He was the wrong person for me to have any type of feelings for. I wasn't in love, it wasn't simply lust, it was utter captivation.
"Bella?" His voice brought me from my thoughts and back to the present. He was in front of me again, eyes peering down at me as he awaited my answer.
"Do you want me to stay?" I asked instead of giving him a straight answer. I wanted to find out his feelings before expressing my own.
He looked away and shrugged, his hand rubbing along his jaw. "Well, you're here now, so..." He shrugged again, a light hue colouring his cheeks. Was he embarrassed?
"Edward, are you blushing?" I teased, reaching forward to pinch his cheek. He scoffed and pushed my hand away.
"No," he said, clearing his throat.
"Don't be embarrassed, I think it's cute," I smiled, biting my lip as I tried not to laugh.
He raised a brow while pressing me against the door. "I think this is cute," he said, nodding to my ponytail. "And these," he whispered as he tugged at my pyjama bottoms that mortifyingly enough happened to be covered in little teddy bears. "This is definitely cute," he said as he leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose. "And your boobs are undeniably cute too," he winked.
I laughed and pushed him away. "So weird."
He smirked. "So now I'm weird? Weirdly cute? Or just plain weird?"
I pursed my lips as I pretended to mull it over. "A little of both, I think."
He let out an exaggerated breath. "Thank God. Weirdly cute I can handle, but being plain weird would have taken some getting over." I shook my head, smiling at him.
"Perhaps I should take a little more time to decide," I shrugged.
His hands came to rest at my hips as he shook his head. "No, you can't go back on your word now. You missed your chance. Sorry."
"You don't give second chances?" I asked.
He eyes drifted over my face. "Not usually."
The atmosphere had shifted – it didn't seem like we were teasing anymore. His thumbs were rubbing softly at the exposed skin at my hips, his hands warm. I wove my own hands around his neck, intending to my press my lips to his, but he turned his head at the last second, my mouth touching his cheek instead.
I shouldn't have been hurt, I shouldn't have been surprised. I shouldn't have wanted it in the first place.
I tried not to let my feelings show on my face as I kissed his cheek. I tried not to notice the tension in his jaw. I tried not to notice how he wouldn't look at me as he picked me up and lowered me onto his bed.
His lips trailed down my neck and along the swell of my breasts, his tongue darting out to taste my skin. My head was against his pillows, my palms flat on his sheets. My heart was beating rapidly as his hands started to push my top over my stomach, his mouth following the moving cotton.
I grasped his shoulders as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. His hand found my other breast, teasing and pinching and making me ache in other places. I sat and raised my arms above my head as I allowed him to remove the item of clothing, watching his fingers trace my collarbone.
His lips were at my ear as I lay back, his hand traveling down my stomach. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice sending shivers, that didn't belong to the temperature of the room, down my spine.
"But, I tried..."
"I don't mean your mouth, Bella," he voiced as he pulled back slightly to finally look at me. I was confused. His eye were hooded, his hand at the waistband of my bottoms. Oh. My. God.
"I – I told you last week, no one's ever done that to me before," I admitted. He continued to stare at me, seemingly unaffected by my words.
"Do you not want me to?" he asked, his hand moving across my skin, from one hip to the other. Yes.
"Trust me," he whispered as he slid down my body. I simply nodded, speech failing me.
His fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling the material from my legs. His palms ran along my skin, up my thighs, parting them slightly as he settled between them. He'd left my underwear on, the simple white panties the only item left covering me.
He kissed the inside of my thighs, moving up and up and up. He kissed me through the cotton, making me gasp. He kissed me where no one had before.
His touches were light and gentle – it felt so good. I suddenly hated the fact that there was material in the way, so when he looked at me for reassurance that it was okay to remove the last piece of clothing, I nearly cried in relief and elation. I nodded, my cheeks warm and no doubt full of colour. He pulled them down slowly, keeping his gaze on his movement.
I was a little embarrassed to be completely bare to him like this. I was mostly comfortable with my body, but then, I didn't go around showing my nudity to all of my neighbours. This was a little different than just seeing yourself when in the shower or something. This was someone else looking at you, someone else seeing your vulnerability.
He was staring at me, right there, as he parted my legs once more. I had the urge to cover my face with one of his pillows, but reached instead for my discarded shirt. I didn't even get it further than a few centimeters before he pulled it from my grasp.
"Don't," he said while shaking his head. "Just don't."
I swallowed heavily and nodded, taking a deep breath as I tried to will my unease away. I wanted to send it on a permanent vacation with expensive looking luggage. Maybe the ones with wheels at the bottom for a faster getaway. Then I felt his mouth on me and didn't give a shit how embarrassed I was. I never wanted him to stop.
His tongue was moving – exploring – and his hands were holding my waist as I began to writhe on the bed. "Hold still, Bella," he admonished as he removed his head from between my legs. I raised my top half off the mattress as I rested back on my elbows, gazing down at him with a frown.
"What? No, don't stop," I begged in a breathless voice. He smirked, holding my gaze as he lowered his mouth back to me, his tongue immediately stroking the bundle of nerves that made me see stars and praise God.
"Holy shit!" I said loudly, trembling as I tried to hold myself up. His eyes were so green as he continued to perform magic tricks with his tongue.
I was panting, my hips pushing themselves from the bed – everything felt so good. As soon as I felt a finger slide inside me I fell back to the sheets, unable to continue looking at him while he was pleasuring me like that. It was too much and not enough. My chest was rising and falling in rapid succession, my skin flushed and clammy with exertion. My hands twisted themselves in his sheets as I moaned and begged and moved. And as he flicked his tongue against me again and again and again I couldn't stop my hands from fisting his hair as wave after wave of pure bliss assaulted my body. He groaned and sped his movements, his finger curling and stroking and oh-my-fucking-God. I was shaking as I screamed into his pillow, the intensity almost unbearable.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. My limbs were heavy yet weightless, my mind numb. My fingers untangled themselves from his hair and fell clumsily at my sides. My eyes were staring blindly at the ceiling as I felt him lie beside me, his hand pushing the escaped strands of hair from my face. I turned to face him, wanting to thank him... anything.
"Breathe Bella," he whispered, a hint of a smile at his lips. I hadn't realized I'd stopped. I wanted to sink into his covers and sleep for hours with his warmth beside me, but then his mouth was on my neck again, and then a little further down. I should have been grossed out after he'd just had his mouth on my most private area, but I wasn't.
He was pressed against my side, his erection evident against my hip. I tilted my head back further against the pillows, giving him more room to work with. My hands roamed the pale skin of his back as I pulled him on top of me, wanting to feel his full weight. I was like ivy as I wrapped myself around him, wanting to tie him to me.
He was shifting against my still sensitive core, hips meeting hips as I pushed back against him. He was hard and needy and I wondered if he wanted me to reciprocate. I wanted to make him feel good.
"I need to be inside you Bella," he breathed against my neck. "I want to feel you. All of you." I froze, my breaths once again becoming shaky. I wasn't expecting that.
His lips were still attached to my skin as I started to panic. He noticed.
He pulled back to look at me, eyes confused. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, cautiously. I shook my head, trying to indicate I was fine. I could feign tiredness and tell him nothing. I could lie... we were good at being deceitful.
"Tell me," he insisted again, his gaze fierce.
I'd been dreading this moment, hoping it would never arrive. I was happy to live in denial for as long as possible when it came to this subject. His fingers were playing with the ends of my hair as he stared hard and determined. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend. Pretend that he wasn't waiting for an answer. Pretend that he wouldn't care when he found out. Pretend that I wouldn't be hurt when he ultimately decided he'd had enough.
"I'm not ready for that," I said quickly, my words tumbling from my mouth as quickly as possible in case I lost my nerve. He closed his eyes and nodded, a long sigh released from his nose.
"No, yeah, that's fine. Whenever you're ready," he told me seriously. He still didn't get it... I still didn't want to tell him.
"No, I don't think you understand," I whispered, wanting to look away, but couldn't. I was trapped in woven green nets as my insides fluttered, wanting to break free.
"I don't know when I'll be ready." I was blushing and biting my lip, taking my nervous energy out on the delicate flesh. I wanted to pull away from him, the situation, and hide. "You see, I've... I've never been with anyone – ever – like... that." His cheeks instantly lost their colour. It was like sucking the colourant from a popsicle. The colour would disappear on the tongue leaving you with just pale ice.
"You're a virgin?" he asked in shock. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and nodded. His body was acting as the anchor while all I wanted to do was float out to sea by myself as I drowned out my thoughts with salt water and the sound of angry waves.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, his brows furrowing as I did so.
"Why the fuck are you apologizing?" he questioned, his body lifting itself from mine as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed, chin pushed to his chest as his head drooped.
"You're angry," I said, pulling a sheet quickly around my naked form. He groaned, fists rubbing his eyes.
"I'm not angry," he voiced, knee bouncing.
"You seem angry," I informed him, bringing my knees to my chest as I wrapped my arms around myself.
"Fuck Bella, I just told you I'm not," he snapped, hands grasping his wayward hair. "Why do you have to disagree with everything I say? When I tell you I'm not angry, I'm not. Jesus Christ."
"Sorry," I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time today.
He turned to face me, eyes dark. "And stop fucking saying that," he shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I didn't know what to say, what to do. His reaction was confusing. He said he wasn't angry, yet his demeanor all but screamed it.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he queried, looking at me with an unreadable expression.
"What do you mean? I just did," I told him, anxiously glancing around the room for my pyjamas. I suddenly wanted to be clothed. I wanted to hide. He let out a bitter laugh.
"I was about to strip my boxers and reach for a condom," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't you think you should have spoken up long before we started this?" he questioned while motioning between the two of us.
"What, you don't think I've been thinking about it?" I snapped, my own anger shining through. "You don't think this whole situation is so incredibly mortifying for me that I want to cry? Shit, Edward. There's you with all this experience that I don't have. You may think I have it, but I don't. I'm not that girl," I said with a fist to my chest. "I get shy, I have insecurities. I was embarrassed to speak about it, so I simply said nothing." I turned my head away from him as I tried to get a hold on my emotions.
I pulled the tie from my hair; half of it had come loose now anyway. I reached over the edge of the bed for my top and panties, quickly slipping them both on as the heady silence continued to reign over us. It was heavy and repressing. I felt like I was choking, my legs dying to carry me to the doors and let in the chill of the night's air.
It had started to rain, harsh beads thumping against the windows and glass doors. They matched the tears that threatened to roll down my cheeks. I'd always had a desire to dance in the rain with a smile on my face as each separate drop of liquid stuck to my skin. I was aching for that feeling now. I wanted to replace this despondency with glee.
Fingers were unexpectedly on mine, trying to provide comfort. I momentarily got my glee, however fleetingly it lasted.
I tilted my head slightly to the side to look at him, to pull secrets from his orbs, but his eyes were glued to the cream wall in front him, his expression broody. I wanted to see what he saw, I wanted to hear what he thought. I wanted black and white pictures like an old fashioned movie screen to play out in a flickering fashion.
He shifted and unknowingly destroyed the scene. The film roll torn. "I can't be that person, Bella," he said without turning to me. "I won't be the asshole that takes that from you." What he once again didn't realize was that it was mine to give, not his to take. Not everything was solely about him.
"And if I want you to be?" I asked even though I had no idea what would happen in the future. I didn't know what would happen tomorrow, or in the next five minutes. It made no difference to the overall outcome.
"Then change your mind," he stated resolutely. He looked almost mildly disgusted. I pondered, everything became clear like the clouds that parted to reveal a flawless blue sky.
"You don't want to any more, do you?" I asked in a small voice. I knew this would happen. This was the moment where he severed all ties as things had gotten a little too serious for his non-committal world.
"Oh no, I want to," he said seriously, finally meeting my eyes. "A lot."
"Then I don't see what the problem is," I murmured, glancing at our hands. "Can't we just cross that bridge when – or if – we come to it?" This wasn't supposed to be serious. It was supposed to be nothing. Absolutely nothing. Although, I wasn't sure it wasn't nothing for me anymore.
"You'll end up regretting it," he said with a sigh. "You might think you won't, but you will."
I went to speak but he held up his hand with a pleading look. "It wouldn't change anything if we slept together. I would still be the same Edward who won't go out on dates or pick you flowers. I wouldn't suddenly become your boyfriend and buy you Valentine's gifts and kiss you goodnight." His expression was nothing but honest... I had to look away.
"So trust me when I say that you would most definitely regret it."
I focused on the chocolate shaded sheets, everything about this room exuding a warmness I didn't expect. Rich colourings, comforting novels and smooth skin. There were no icy blues here.
"You can't know that," I whispered as I pulled my hand from his. "I knew what I was getting myself into before I agreed to any of this. I know that isn't you, Edward." He simply shrugged.
"We'll agree to disagree on this one," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"So what now?" I queried. I was at a loss if he didn't want to carry on talking. I could see he'd closed this chapter for another time, despite the fact I wanted to carry on reading.
"Sleep," he said, with a small smile. "I'm tired." He slid under the covers beside me, scooting to the opposite side of the bed. I hesitated for split second before laying my head upon his pillows, surrounded by the smell of his soap while wrapped in his soft sheets.
"You're wrong you know," I whispered after a few minutes of simply watching the downpour through the windows. "I wouldn't expect you to change yourself." I was being truthful, I wasn't stupid enough to think he'd do things differently just because he happened to be fooling around with me. I was the flavour of the month. He wanted plain old vanilla this time, but soon enough his cravings would change. He'd end up wanting strawberry. I couldn't compete with that.
The covers rustled. "I never said you would," he replied as he reached behind him to switch off the lamp.
"But you just said..."
"Please, let's just leave it," he sighed, a slight hint of something in his voice. I wanted to ask him so many questions; I hated that I couldn't.
The room was submerged in black and slate as the light ebbed immediately, nothing but a flash of what was remaining behind my eyes as flashes abruptly assaulted my sight.
His back was to me as we both remained silent, the expanse of his skin still visible in the dark. It was a weird feeling to be sleeping next to him like this, but I found I wasn't uncomfortable. I wanted to inch my way closer to him, settle behind him and share his warmth.
"Bella?" he said into the darkness, breaking me from my reverie.
"Yeah?" I answered, my eyes refusing to open as sleep tried to take me.
"I – I'm..." There was more silence before he let out a long breath. "Goodnight."
I wouldn't push him for more. I wouldn't ask him what he wanted to say. I wouldn't think about it tonight.
"Night, Edward." Nothing more was said. I clutched the pillow closer to my face and hoped tomorrow would be clearer.
OoOoO
When I woke I expected purple sheets and the sound of Charlie's cruiser pulling into the driveway as he arrived home from work. Instead, I was greeted with the sun pouring through opened curtains and an arm that certainly wasn't mine around my waist. My face was pressed into something firm, yet soft. I rubbed my face against it, feeling a rumble against my cheek as I did so. Holy fuck, did Charlie get a dog? Or a cat? I hated cats, they freaked me out with their "all seeing" eyes. Plus their eyes were yellow, like some mutant creature or something. They lived off a diet of mice and milk. They were freaks. Then again, I wasn't much of a dog person either. They were always wagging their tails at absolutely nothing, seemingly in a constant state of happy. Fuckers. The only reason they're known as "a man's best friend" is because they love everyone. I bet kibble is equivalent to crack for those furry buddies.
I cracked an eye open and pulled back a little, my nose scrunching against the morning light. The face in front of me was unmistakable, like the sun on a hot summer's day or snow left over from a storm. God, I really had to stop reading Shakespeare at night when emo. As soon as I start using "thou art" in every day speech I'm checking myself into a clinic for the neck-brace loving, frilly-sleeved obsessives.
I simply lay there for a few minutes and watched him sleep. I took in the length of his lashes and how they'd occasionally flutter when a twitch seized his eyelid. I took in the muted red of his lips as he breathed softly through an open mouth. His hair was a disaster zone, tornado warnings for sure.
"Bella, stop staring at me," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. I instantly blushed.
"See, I told you you're a freak. Your eyes aren't even open. You can't possibly know whether I was staring at you," I told him as I bunched the covers tighter to my chest, resisting the urge to snuggle against him.
"I'm special. It's one of my many gifts," he said into his pillow.
"Weird," I teased.
"Weirdly cute if I remember rightly," he yawned, a small smile making way to a smirk.
"There's nothing remotely cute about you this morning, Cullen. Seeing you at this time of day is making me rethink our arrangement. You're not as pretty as I thought you were," I sighed, pretending to be disappointed. He opened his eyes at this, a pout on his lips.
"You don't think I'm cute anymore?" he said, making stupid faces at me. I rolled my eyes, trying and failing to hide my smile.
"Maybe just a little," I said while leaving a very small gap between my thumb and pointer finger to give a visual aspect to my words.
"Only a little?" He asked, moving closer to me with a dangerous look in his eyes.
I took a deep breath. "A very little." He smiled at me all crookedly, so devastatingly handsome in that moment I had to stop myself from running my hand across his cheek and through his hair as I thought about how unfair it was he had to look like this.
"You talk in your sleep, you know?" he told me, playing with my hair that was strewn across his pillows. "You even said my name once." I felt my cheeks heat and my mouth become dry.
My mom had told me I did, and would regale me with tales of random mumblings about Mr. Darcy and root beer floats. I apparently liked to party with men who received ten thousand pounds a year. Oh my god, I was a gold-digger in my sleep. I cleared my throat.
"Was I speaking about plans to maim?" I questioned, trying to hold the laugh that was bubbling inside my chest from exploding.
"No," he replied with a snort.
"Couldn't have been me then," I sighed, moving to lie on my back as I stretched. I turned my head and laughed at his expression.
"So serious," I pouted. "Not funny? Do you need to brood some more before you can smile? What about if I told you that you have creases on you right cheek from sleeping funny on your pillow?" I teased. "Do you need a mirror? Will that make it better?"
"Oh that's it." He rolled over onto me, immediately tickling my sides as I writhed and laughed while trying to push him off me. Then we both seemed to just stop, the smiles fading from our lips as last night's conversation came back to haunt us.
I wanted to put his smile back and lighten the mood once more. I hated this feeling, hated seeing him like this. I said the first thing that popped into my head.
"You know, a cold shower will help you get rid of that," I voiced, my eyes widening ever so slightly as I realized what I'd just said. He brows met in the middle, lips pursed.
"Get rid of what?" he queried, his elbows still resting beside my head.
"Your "peeping Tom" under the covers," I mumbled, glancing away, completely embarrassed. He laughed so loudly I was sure he'd wake the others and they'd run up here to see what he was apparently so funny.
"I can think of better ways to calm its perving behaviour," he said with a wink. I pushed him off me, rolling my eyes as he laughed again.
My eyes found his clock on his bedside table, my muscles tightening as my brain told me it was time to leave. It was an instant reaction to leaving his side that I wasn't expecting. It scared me a little.
I had to get home and do some laundry and see Charlie before Jacob came over. I was supposed to spend the day with him, and while I loved his company, loved him as any friend would, I didn't want to leave this bed. I knew I would have to try to speak to Jacob again. I knew I would have to tell him I just didn't feel the way he did. I knew I would have to hide other reasons from him, reasons that would hurt him.
I sighed and sat, my hands making their way into my hair. "I've got to go," I told him, sparing a swift look his way. His palms were against his bare chest as he simply lay there and watched me.
"Yeah," he replied, exhaling a deep breath. I gave him a sad smile as I slipped out from under the covers, the morning chill hitting my bare legs as I fumbled to put my pyjama bottoms back on after finding them bundled at the foot of the bed.
I didn't know what to say. Did I just leave without saying anything? Hell if I knew. I'd never done this before. It wasn't so much the morning-after awkwardness you saw in movies with characters after a one night stand, but the atmosphere was still strange and foreign. I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.
"I'll probably see you later," he told me as I was hesitating by his door. I gave a nod in reply, my eyes taking one last sweep of his room before I grasped the handle.
"So... um, yeah. Nice room," I said with a smile as I walked out, his smirk the last thing I saw as I closed the door.
OoOoO
I'd only gotten to see Alice for a few minutes after changing into my clothes from yesterday before I popped down to the den to tell them I had to go. Rose and Em had gone, no doubt Em's stomach had demanded food at some point and had woken them both up.
Alice was making mini braids in Jasper's hair as he slept. I had to hold in a laugh at the sight of half his wavy locks already done. He'd be so pissed when he woke up. Alice promised to take a photo of the finished product for me. She blew me a kiss as I waved and asked her to call me later.
I found myself feeling light and happy as I made my way down the Cullen driveway. There were puddles on the ground, the sun was in the sky and a rainbow had arched itself around the Clearwater house.
Then storm clouds loomed as I spotted Jake sitting on my porch steps. He didn't look unhappy, and he smiled at me, but the guilt that hit me every time I saw the curve and lift of his lips left me breathless. I had to tell him.
"Hey Bells," he greeted as he jumped from the top step to give me a big hug. I stiffly returned his embrace. He placed a kiss on my forehead as he pulled back, frowning slightly as he looked at something below my neck area.
"What?" I queried, wondering if I'd gotten toothpaste on myself again after brushing my teeth. It wouldn't have been the first time.
"You've got a little bruise, right there," he told me, his finger just below my collarbone. I held my breath. No... he, wouldn't.
"You know me," I tried to say jokingly. "It's probably from one of my many trips to the ground." I rolled my eyes and he snorted... then stopped.
"It wasn't there yesterday, though," he stated as he looked at it again. Shit.
"I had an unfortunate fight with one of Esme's house plants last night," I laughed, walking up the steps with a tilt of my head to let him know to follow me inside. He barked out a chuckle, relief seeping from my body in a steady stream. Edward had marked me, knowing that someone else would see it, that I would see it, and he didn't care. I was so angry, and yet something else simmered under the surface that I couldn't think about right now.
We settled on the sofa, his arm immediately going around my shoulders to draw me closer. I heard water running upstairs, comforted that Charlie was home. Hopefully he'd keep Jake distracted enough not to notice my growing anxieties.
"You look tired," I told him as I studied his face. He yawned, confirming my words. I ruffled his hair.
"Yeah, last night was a little crazy. And not in the good sense," he added with a shake of his head. I turned around so I look at him better, one leg curled under the other.
"What happened?" I asked, grabbing his hand. He was my friend, and I was a hypocrite, but I didn't like to see him down.
"Quil and Paul got into a pretty bad fight last night," he sighed. "Quil's girlfriend broke up with him last week – he hadn't told any of us – and well, he caught them fucking in Paul's car that was parked in Embry's driveway. Needless to say punches were thrown." He rubbed his chest and I didn't say anything.
"What's worse is Quil's fine with Claire," he said with a bitter chuckle and raised brows. "He even dropped her off home afterwards as she was so upset, but he won't speak to Paul... won't even look at him." He was quiet... I was quiet. The water had been turned off upstairs.
"He thinks they'd been seeing each other nearly the whole time they were together," he told me with a tight jaw. "He still loves her... I just don't know what to tell him, you know? Paul is my friend too, but I have to take sides. I can't not."
I nodded jerkily, squeezing his hand. If I had to speak now, I would crack and the dam would open.
"If someone did that to me I wouldn't be as forgiving." My palm was sweaty in his, and I prayed he didn't think anything of it. I thought I was going to be sick, my nerves frayed like torn denim.
I was staring into the deepest brown, drowning in quicksand. I was selfish and didn't want to lose him. I had decisions to make and no right answers.
I wanted to turn back time and go back to a boy with soft sheets and green eyes. I wanted to drift off to the sound of rain in a bed that slept two hearts attempting to beat as one, and two minds desperately trying to understand the other.
Reviews will get a teaser for the next chapter.
I have another rec this week: "Disappear Here" by h32mh32m - so good.
Also, the lovely Detochkina writes a fic called "Sinnerman". I'd love it if you gave it a read and left her some love.
Thanks so much for reading. VHL xx