Sorry, guys...I know it's been another long wait :( All I can say is I moved into a new year at school and work has been piling down on me - literally when I'm not working I'm sleeping, or trying to at least leave the house :P But I'm getting there.
Hoping to get back on track now - eeeeeeepppp here is some lovely Edward POV. I hope you enjoy it :)
Read on, my brave warriors!
The rusty creak of aging bedsprings and the slamming of a door across the hall from my room greeted me as I rose groggily from my dream, my body starting at the sudden noise. I was slightly dizzy from sleep, and looked down to find I was tangled in the bedsheets – there was, as ever, arguing from next door, creaking from across the hall and a noise akin to a herd of bulls pounding down the corridor downstairs.
What else could you expect from cheap lodgings in the cramped, hot and bustling centre of Barcelona?
I shook my head and glanced around the simple but comfortable room, only to find my roommate and best friend of four years, Emmett McCarty, was not around – yet another observation that did not cease to surprise me. It was often that I woke like this, jolted awake by the noises of the city and the bustling house around me that I had never quite gotten used to. Thrown awake in what was not yet night but too far gone to be evening either, the heat lulling me to sleep late in the afternoon but then forcing me awake again late at night. I had watched many sunrises over the past four years, and spent much of that time reminiscing.
Sighing, and shaking my hair from my eyes, I started up, untwisted the bedclothes from around me so I was able to stretch my body out. I pulled my arms up, yawning slightly as I did so, watching the muscles in my arm tense and relax as I pin-wheeled them round, trying to work out the ever-present ache between my shoulder blades. I wandered past my chair and desk, piled high with sheets of paper in various stages of decay or simple neglect, all smattered with notes and staves and bars and treble clefs. The chair was neatly stored underneath, and there was a worn trunk at the end of the rusty bed that held all my worldly possessions. That, in itself, was not saying much. As I made for the open window, a long, wide affair that could easily throw you out if you were not careful enough, sending you plummeting down at least three stories before you hit the sun-and-feet-hot pavement below, I attempted to forget the dreams that were still ghosting through my mind, carrying voices and faces and words from long ago. Of course, I knew exactly to whom they all belonged.
"Edward..." Her soft voice called to me – her laughter rang in my ears, fingers ghosted against my skin...I could almost feel her lips against mine on the warm air of the open night sky. I remembered every single kiss she had placed upon me: every single smile. Forget her? I smiled lightly to myself, shaking my head a little. How could I ever forget her?
I sighed, leaning against the wall and staring blankly at the ceiling, lost for anything else to do. Four years had changed me, more than I thought they could. Four years without her. And what lonely years they had been.
If she could see me now, I thought to myself, she would think me a changed man.
After that dreadful, woeful morning, when I had to kiss her goodbye and climb down from her window, I could not bear to think what lay ahead of me. As I bid farewell to my parents, my mother crying unstoppably and my father swearing he would not rest until I was home, I wondered at how I had managed to get myself into such a mess. Forced away from my own home, walking blind into the world with nothing but the promise of a girl to hold onto. The promise of a girl who was marrying another, who was to become a Duchess...she would wait for me, I told myself then. She loved me. She would always love me.
Of course, I had no idea what I was going to do until I returned. Bella's Uncle knew who I was, and I was sure he would be watching out for me – I could not simply waltz in there two weeks later and take Bella away, much as I longed to. It would endanger my parents, Alice and Jasper, Bella herself...I was forced into selflessness, just as Bella had been, while everyone else around me was allowed to be happy. The whole situation was a bitter taste in my mouth as I stepped onto a ship bound for Calais at Dover, having traversed what seemed half the moorlands of England to get there.
Bella would probably come with me if I asked, no matter what would happen to everyone else...but another fact that was staring me full in the face was that there was no way I could support her. Neither her, nor a family that I knew I would one day have with her, no matter what it took. I was on that ship to France in order to make my fortune, as many others were. As far as I was concerned, there was no point returning until I could whisk Bella away and have the money to support her – I could only hope that her husband would be dead before I returned, because I could not put Bella in disgrace by having her leave her husband. To bring up a family that way, I knew, was most definitely not a good idea.
So that was all I could do. Leave, focus on my career for a while, and hope that fate would not keep me away too long.
Of course, I had not considered that it would take four years. That time would slip past me like sand through my fingers, and I would suddenly find that it had been four years since I had left her and I had no idea how the days had passed so quickly.
I met Emmett McCarty, a particularly large man of Irish descent, on the passage over and we quickly became fast friends. We were well suited to each other – he needed a mind like mine, I needed a friend. He was a fiddler, I was a pianist. We both aspired to make something of ourselves, albeit for different reasons (he had some issues with his father), and from then on we were partners. We played in various clubs and bars across Europe, never staying in one place for too long, but a year ago we found our niche here in Barcelona. A nice, well paying little place, filled with local people who enjoyed our rather more tasteful style of music. And so life went on.
I found myself rather at odds with the world – Bella drifted farther and farther from me, until she was nothing but a memory, and my feelings for her remembered but not exactly trusted. I began to not trust myself as the days went by, until I was lost and confused, yet still grieving for her.
It was not as if I hadn't tried to be with other women – in those moments of weakness, when I hated Bella and all that she stood for...when the feelings of loss and grief became too much to bear, and I lost all rhyme and reason and became almost mad with love for her. Then I would run just as wild as Emmett, always trying to find a way to escape the pain, to numb the way I felt about the girl I had lost. Sometimes I felt replacing her would solve everything, but I gave up on that practise just as quickly after I realised it was a fruitless effort. No woman was equal to her; I knew I would never love anyone like I loved her, and the idea that she could be still waiting made it impossible to let her go.
Emmett, of course, never understood – for two years I had stayed away from women, by my own choosing, and it bewildered him. He, of course, had no trouble finding womanly company, and so I found myself alone in our small set of rooms quite often. Not that I minded – I had plenty to think about, plenty to imagine and plenty to despair over.
I had become broody.
"Oh, Bella," I murmured, moving to lean against the balcony and stare out over the sprawling city, the stars watching over us all, tiny pinpricks of light shining out of the inky black sky, "Where are you?" I stayed that way for an immeasurable moment, then a crashing noise brought me back to reality.
"Edward! Edward!" I turned as Emmett came skidding through the door, waving a nondescript sheet of paper around as if it were the holy grail, "Get over here and read this!"
"What is it?" I asked him curiously – Emmett was not a quiet fellow, but it took something rather significant to get him quite so riled up; he stuffed the piece of paper into my hands, the corner slicing through my finger in his haste. "Ouch!" I hissed, "Emmett, what on earth-"
"For God's sake, I will read it!"
"What?" But he had already snatched it out of my fingers again, flattening it out in his giant paws of hands. I sighed exasperatedly and crossed my arms, running my fingers through my hair, still rubbing my injured digit, "Well, go on, then. What does it say?"
He began to read excitedly. "His grace, the Duke Henry Delaunay," my heart dropped into my stomach, my hands tightening into fists – it could not be, "And his wife, her grace the Duchess Isabella Delaunay...blah, blah, blah..." Emmett seemed totally unaware of the effect his words were having on me – my heart was racing, ringing in my ears, my body almost trembling at this new development. I could barely believe what I was hearing, but yet it seemed to be true. "Cordially invite you to be guests in his house upon your return to England!" Emmett whooped excitedly, "We are going home! Edward, is this not wonderful?" He looked to me, obviously expecting some kind of agreement – but that was beyond me. I was lost in memories, suddenly overwhelmed by them, unable to see or hear anything around me.
"What?" I murmured, dumb with confusion, lost – Emmet rolled his eyes at me, gripped my shoulders.
"Edward, we are going home!"
I was going back. To England, to my home...to Bella.
"Edward?"
This was beyond my wildest imagination, so much so that I could not believe it was actually happening.
"Edward, man: are you alright?"
"Alright?" I choked out, almost dumb with joy, "Alright? Emmett..." I laughed then, the sound bubbling through my throat, "Emmett, I am overjoyed!"
"I knew you would be!" Emmett, it seemed, was more excited for the both of us, so I let him dance about the room while I sat down heavily on the bed, holding on to the bedpost to steady myself. I was overwhelmed – everything I had dreamed of in the past four years was happening so quickly, more so because I had not expected it. Yes, I knew Emmett and I were rising higher and higher as news of us spread across the channel by word of mouth, but I could not have imagined that Bella's husband himself could have heard and, by some twist of fate, decided he wanted us both as part of his club.
Perhaps Bella had heard of us...of me...perhaps this was her doing. I could hardly believe good fortune could have smiled so on us both, but if it was true – I shook that thought away quickly, not daring to hope for as much.
I was going home, and that was more than enough to believe in, for the moment.
"When do we leave?" I asked Emmett, who had, on a whim it seemed, picked up his violin and started playing a hornpipe tune, bright and merry – the music halted for a minute as he answered me, grinning from ear to ear.
"Tomorrow."
"So soon!" I gasped – Emmett had resumed playing, but nodded. I fell back on the bed, breathing deeply, unable to stop myself from smiling too. If all went well, I could be back with Bella in less than two days! After four years of waiting, I had not expected my reunion with her to happen so quickly. I remembered my parents then, my friends, Alice, Jasper...I was going home to all of those that I loved and had missed so much, and I was almost giddy with joy.
"Back to the British lasses we go, Eddie-boy!" Emmett carolled, dancing a jig in time with his rampant melody; I made no reply, just laughed with him, thinking of how there was only one British lass I was willing to go back to.
"Come on, Edward," Emmett, not being one to pay attention to a single thing for more than a minute, had already dropped his violin and was throwing clothes and books and music alike haphazardly into his trunk, which was already overflowing, "We must pack!"
I rolled my eyes, moving over to try to still his hands before he made an even bigger mess. "Emmett, stop it," I told him, "We have the whole night to pack – I think we should go downstairs for a drink, to celebrate."
"Yes!" Emmett was back on his feet at once – I could not help but smile exasperatedly at him."
"Go on," I said, "You head downstairs and find a seat – I will be along in a minute."
"And maybe a couple of girls to go with that, I think," Emmett winked at me; for the first time I was unable to even attempt to smile enthusiastically, my mouth dropping instead into a grimace – Emmett sighed.
"Come on, Edward – I know you are not exactly a happy man, but we are going home! I do not see why even that will not lift your spirits...a woman is a good thing, remember? Come on, man, or I am going to start to think there is something wrong with you."
"There is nothing wrong with me, Emmett...I am happy," I replied, but not convincingly enough – he crossed his arms.
"I do not think you are."
"Emmett..."
"It makes no sense either," he said, "We are going home, and yet you still refuse to do anything other than mope in here all day and all night. What is wrong, Edward?" he came to stand beside me, "What is it that you have not told me? We have been friends for four years, and still I know nothing about you...what is it that you are declining to say?"
"I do not want to mess around with women, Emmett," I said stiffly, "Is that so wrong?"
"It is unnatural."
"Emmett...please, just leave it." Emmett sighed, but I knew he would do so – he was not the type of man to sit and listen to someone pour their heart out, not unless it would allow him to go home with her. Women and wine were the only two principles he lived by, and I knew he was only irritated and questioning because he did not understand why I did not agree with him. "One day," I said to him, "You are going to find a woman that you want to be with forever – and you are going to find that all the mischievous girls in the world are not going to satisfy you."
He shook his head, then turned away and left without replying. I sighed, and returned to the window, knowing I was going to have to apologise – Emmett was a gentle soul at heart, and any disagreement, however small, always upset him. But then, I was irritated at him. Who was he to upset the first happiness I had felt in four years with his idiotic misconceptions about women? Who was he to remind me of the sadness I felt, of all I had lost...no. I shook my head, refusing to let the misery overwhelm me – I was going back to them, to my family, my friends...to Bella. There was nothing that could upset me now.
I stood, looking out over the world, and smiled.
It was our last performance at that jumbled, crowded little club where we had made our living for the past two years – after a first hour of our normal, lively jigs and polkas, the tables began to fill with tired men and women, and Emmett began to call for a solo. Everyone else gladly joined him, as they always did, and there was nothing I could do but roll my eyes and oblige.
I sat down, took a breath before realising I had no idea what to play. My fingers trembled across the keys, which were a pristine ebony and ivory at my own insistence – I was not one to play a dirty instrument, so this piano was kept to the upmost standards. I stroked the soft wood gently, drawing my fingertips across them, trying to gage what they wanted to do. Most of the time, unless I was given a particular request, I played whatever I wished to: at that moment in time I was so confused, so jumbled and muddled, nothing was coming to me. I did not glance up, hoping my confusion could be seen as a moment of artistic inspiration. In reality the only thing that was running through my mind, all I could think of...was her. Her voice, her face, her laugh...the next day I was travelling straight to her, by the request of her own husband!
Excitement and nerves had me trembling, my world tumbling: I was most certainly not in my right mind, but abruptly something came out of the blue, out of the depths of my memories. A melody that had been long since forgotten, by my own choosing – music that I had not wanted to remember. My fingers began to move of their own accord, teasing the music that was trumpeting in my head out of the strings of the piano, so the room was filled with the sound as it worked its way into reality. Her song echoed across the walls and ceilings, lifting me into some state of mindlessness until all I could see and hear was her.
I played and played until I was completely spent, all the passion seeping out of me at the last note like water spilling from an overturned jar. It rang through the room, and I found I was panting, gasping in air with no real relief, suddenly very aware of the silence around me – my stomach tightened, and abruptly, ignoring the stunned silence, I shoved my chair back with a loud, jarring scraping noise and pushed out of the room, feeling a sudden, terrible sense of inevitability.
I lay face down on my bed and cried for what must have been an eternity. Certainly, by the time I looked up, my pillow streaked with dark tearstains, it was even darker outside. I huddled up beneath the bedclothes, not sure what exactly had come over me – it was as if I had experienced the pain of leaving Bella all over again. Felt what I had felt then, twisted and exaggerated over time even though the memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The helplessness, the pain, the anger and the sorrow...and the love.
Always the love.
Emmett could not understand when he found me in the morning why I was so forlorn – even I could not understand my feelings fully. I was returning home, to Bella, and surely that should mean I would be happy...but still I felt the weight on my shoulders of all my worries, and the knowledge that even now there was only a small chance I would ever be with her again. Who said she did still love me? Who said I would even be able to see her? My doubts had free reign, which led me to snap at Emmett irately as we boarded the ship to England, our steps bouncing on the wood suspended between the quay and the deck.
"We are on our way, Eddie-boy!" Emmett carolled as we embarked, almost skipping across the gangplank whilst I followed in his wake, shrugging deeper into my coat so as to be as inconspicuous as possible – Emmett was now dancing...he had never been one for proper behaviour.
"Emmett!" I hissed, grabbing him on the arm and holding him still, "I know you are excited, but could you please control yourself? Everyone is staring at us."
"And why should they not? In a few months we shall be rich, Edward: known all across the world as the greatest musicians there ever was!"
I rolled my eyes, "I think not, if you continue behaving as you are – we are entering into high society, Emmett: there can be no more of your shenanigans. If you wish to be 'rich," I certainly did not, "You will have to gain the approval of the harshest men and women around. And I am sure that you never will if you insist on behaving so childishly."
Emmett sighed, tugging his arm away and straightening up to his full height, nearly a head above my own – as his normal smile disappeared he abruptly became distinctly more threatening. What else could you expect from a giant such as him? "Edward," he sighed, shaking his head almost despairingly at me, "Why are you always so...square? Would it be so hard for you to just let go once in a while...you walk as if you are carrying the whole world on your shoulders. We are travelling musicians-"
"Were travelling musicians, Emmett," I corrected him, suddenly tired of his careless words – they had me roused: he knew nothing of my past, and it irritated me when he spoke as if he did. "Not anymore. I never wanted to be a gypsy in the first place. I did not choose this life." Emmett, as always, did not catch on to the pain that lurked behind my words – he did not reply, except to give me a despondent look, then he spotted two relatively well-dressed ladies and was gone in a second, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
A few silent hours later, we hired a coach to take us to London, where Emmett had family and I had an address, slipped into my pocket four years ago the night Alice left us. I had found it in the morning, but declined to mention it to Bella, trying to tell myself that I would never need that address...sometimes, Alice did have some sort of foresight about these things. After a bumpy carriage ride and a hasty goodbye where Emmett and I agreed to meet in a pub I had already forgotten the name of, I hastened through the busy roads of London, looking and looking and feeling as if I was standing on the point of a knife, my whole existence about to topple into an unknown oblivion.
It took me an hour or two, and a very grumpy policeman's rather vague directions, but I finally arrived at the place I had been searching for. I studied the street sign carefully, so as to be completely sure that I was in the right place – I did not want to go wrong now, not when I was so close...
The little scrap of paper was dented and stained from how much I had handled it over the past few days, turning it over and over in my fingers, studying the little scribble of an address over and over until it was burned behind my eyelids. After a second or two I nodded, before heading off down the street, pulling my coat tighter over my shoulders, even though it was easily too warm for it under the bright sunshine. I felt slightly nervous, apprehensive, after being away for so long – I was studying the cracks in the pavement so intently that I did not notice a woman walking the other way until we crossed shoulders.
She barely glanced up, obviously in a hurry. "Oh," she said – something in her voice seemed familiar as she continued, "I am so sorry, sir. Excuse me." She was gone before I could get a good look ather, and although I moved away as she did, I could not help but look behind me, back at her. She was not particularly tall, her rich clothing showing she was a lady not of the city, but of the country...her masses of mahogany locks, all piled up on top of her head haphazardly, reminded me somewhat of Bella's, and I supposed that was it. Even so, I had to force myself to turn away, to carry on the way I was going – it was a mystery to me, why she had been so interesting.
I forgot the strange encounter as I reached my destination – the door stood innocently at the edge of the pavement, a dark green in colour, adorned with the numbers seven and two. Taking a deep breath and feeling a certainty that I was on the brink of a new era, that everything was about to change: I raised one fist and knocked purposefully on the sun-warmed wood.
The door was opened, and as soon as Alice set eyes on me, her mouth dropped open.
"Edward?"
I barely had time to even smile before she screeched my name again, "Edward! Oh lord!" She threw the door open and threw herself out onto the street, dashing back the way I had come – at once I followed her, wondering what on earth was going on.
"Alice?" I called to her, even as she ran full tilt down the road, as if something hellish was chasing her, "Alice!"
"Bella!" I stiffened as her name echoed off the rooftops, "Bella! Bella!"
Had...had Bella just been here?
I slumped on the step, cradling my head in my hands, unable to handle such a cruel twist of fate if this was true – I had been so close...
"Edward...oh, Edward, you just missed her...she quite literally just left!" Alice was distraught as she hurried back towards me, "Oh no...oh no, if I had just kept her longer!" She continued speaking, but it all faded into a slight buzzing as I realised again...that woman, the one I had bumped into in the street, that accidental, fleeting meeting...that had been Bella.
And I had let her go.
:O EL GASP!
Soooo yeah...that sucked :P Please leave a review, I would like to know how you're feeling about this story etc etc...even one word would be awesome :)
Love you guys - see you soon :)
ATO xxxx