A little Valentine's gooey romance for ya xoxo


The gift to me is you.

The night before Valentine's Day, Alex sat in bed reading a book and sulking for one reason or another, when out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Isabella hurrying by.

"Pssst. Swan," he called out. Isabella froze in the hallway outside his door. She had hoped he wouldn't be there - that he was out for the night or at work, anywhere but in the house where there was even the slightest chance they could bump into each other. She still got a nervous lump in her stomach at the sound of Alex's voice.

She took a few steps back and peered into the room at Alex propped up against the headboard.

"..uh...yes?"

Alex waved her in. "C'mere." He put his book down and sat up straight. Isabella quaked in her boots in the center of the room, trying not to look around.

"So," he folded his arms in his lap. "Do you have anything planned? For tomorrow?"

"..."

"For Valentine's Day?"

Isabella's mouth fell open but no words came out.

"For Edward," he clarified. "You don't have to get me anything, of course. Unless you want to that is."

"I...uh, I've been thinking about it for weeks now. But I don't have a lot of money. Any money at the moment. And...Well, I don't know that much about him. Not yet anyway, but we're working on it," she blushed.

Alex stared silently at the ceiling before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Give me that box," he sighed and pointed to a cigarette box on the battered dresser.

It was the last thing Isabella wanted to do. She didn't want to be in Alex's room, and she sure as hell didn't want him showing her what was in some ratty box. She wanted to turn and run and ignore him when he called after her.

The subject of Valentine's Day brought back tortured visions of the times Demetri had flown her to Paris and romanced her for days in beds covered with constant rose petals. She had no idea where they came from. They would be crushed and scattered on the floor and if she left the room for a second, when she returned they would be back fresh and renewed. She swore Demetri was paying someone just for that one job alone, not to mention the gifts upon gifts and personal chefs cooking in their private suite. She couldn't afford any of the things her Valentine's Day had always included. and maybe, in the box Alex was now impatiently gesturing to, was the secret of the never-ending rose petals.

"Look, doll-face. I'm naked under this sheet, so unless you want me to get up and give you a show, you'll light a fire under it and .."

Isabella bolted for the dresser and gently lifted the box. There wasn't much weight to it but she placed it in Alex's outstretched palm. Alex closed his eyes again for a moment in reverence.

"Sit down and I'll tell you a story. A story of my idiocy, of my absolute disregard for the one thing that ever meant anything to me. …That's what it'll seem like anyway. 'Specially to a smart lady like you."

Isabella rolled her eyes at Alex's constant seemingly complimentary remarks delivered with a smirk and a leer.

Alex opened the box top and reached in, pulling out a dented and tarnished but ornate pocket watch. He spun it between his fingers for a second. forgetting Isabella. hypnotizing himself with memories.

"I'm sure you know by now. About us? He told you?" He waited for Isabella to nod in the affirmative, because if she didn't know, he had a lot of explaining to do.

She nodded. "A little. Just that you used to..." she cleared her throat. "Be together."

Alex chuckled. "Yeah. You could say that. Anyway," he turned his attention back to the watch in his hand. "Our first Valentine's day. We had been dating for almost a year so it was a big deal. I was quaking, much like you are right now."

It was then that Alex turned to her with a look of severity on his face that seemed to beg for her to take his words to the bone.

"We may have ultimately unraveled, Isabella, but you must understand, Edward is not stupid. He's exceptionally bright as I'm sure you're well aware. He would never give his heart to someone who he didn't feel was a worthy recipient. And there was a time when...that first year...it was perfect. We were perfect. We were in love. There's nothing wrong with that, right?"

Isabella shook her head. "No. Certainly not."

"You're not threatened by the past? That's a good thing. No need to dwell on what you are powerless to control or undo."

She nodded and blinked away the thought of tears. "He got you that?"

Alex swallowed and twirled it again. "No....I got it for him."

"Then....why do you have it?"

"Because on our second Valentine's Day he gave it back. Chucked it like a rock against our bedroom door. It cracked in half, but I managed to fix it."

"Why-?"

"He came home from working at the pub and caught me in bed with...Christ, I don't even know who she was. Doesn't matter."

Isabella never heard either Alex or Edward talk in this way about their relationship. She had an inkling that it ended badly, yet somehow they managed to remain ingrained in each others lives. They had both alluded to that. But dates and events and actions made her head reel and she felt a wave of anger boiling up in her belly. Protection for an Edward that she didn't even know.

"I thought you were going to tell me what I should do," she growled, ready to turn and leave but now for a whole other reason.

"I am."

He closed the box again and sat it on the pillow beside him. "I know Edward. I know him better than you do, but not as well as you'll grow to know him. You will end up in that enchanting boy's head in places that I'll only ever dream of reaching. …And I do dream of it. Every night. Of turning back time. Of being with him. Of being you. I'll never ever admit any of this out loud again so treasure this conversation always, beautiful lady."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I may have ruined our romantic relationship, but he's such a fucking unbelievable person that he still allows me his friendship. And my friend loves you," he shrugged like it was the world's most obvious answer. "Just be with him and you're already giving him something no one else can. You don't need money." Alex reached back into the box and pulled out a black silk handkerchief with EMC embroidered in the bottom corner. Isabella looked at him curiously.

"Edward Masen Cullen," Alex answered her look. "Masen was his mother's maiden name. I spent a month's wages on it and was going to give it to him for our second Valentine's Day. But then, that happened. ...God what was her fucking name??" He pinched the bridge of his nose but he couldn't remember. "Anyway, Edward wouldn't see me for two weeks after that and the moment's sort of gone by the first of March," he chuckled, but there was genuine sadness and regret behind it.

"Don't fuck it up. That's my advice. You can go now." He snapped the box shut and turned on his side to face the wall.

Isabella made her exit, leaving Alex alone with his ghosts and to hold his candle for Edward in private.

The next day.

"What do they have you doing in here, oh darling one so near and dear to my cold, frozen heart?" Alex sang melodically, shoving through the kitchen past Tanya, who swatted at him with a dishtowel. He grabbed a piece of toast off her plate and headed full-speed toward Isabella.

"Fuck off Alex. Don't start with her," Alice barked, standing in between him and the stove where Isabella was stirring a boiling pot of something that smelled delicious.

"Moi? Celui qui vous signifient?" Alex asked innocently, knowing full well that Alice melted when he spoke French.

"You know exactly what I mean, Alexander."

"We're helping Isabella prepare a romantic Valentine's Day dinner for her and Edward," Tanya annunciated.

"Not that you'd understand the first thing about romance..." Alice grumbled under her breath.

"...when Edward gets home from work tonight it will be all done and YOU will be nowhere in sight. Do you understand that?" Tanya ordered.

Alex tried to stifle a snerk. "And whose idea was that? Yours?" he pointed at Tanya. "...No? ....No, this has the gooey handiwork of a certain Miss Mary Alice Brandon written all over it."

"It was my idea actually," Isabella interrupted. Alex swallowed a throaty laugh and proceeded to choke on the piece of toast he was chomping on. It was a surprising fact. Since most stores and restaurants were operated by the government in 1917 Russia, common people had to stand in long lines to buy bread, meat and other basic items.

"Is that a fact? A dancer AND a chef? What else can you do that I don't know about, Swan?" He pushed Alice out of his way and leaned into Isabella's ear. "Because I thought I knew everything. Or is it just the really good stuff that has you visiting my bedroom at night?"

Isabella blushed and her eyes fell to the floor. "We're making Cabbage Pirozhki and Russian salad..." She looked at Tanya for clarification.

"Salat Olivier, that's right, sweetie. That was your idea. Edward's going to love it."

"It's not your typical uzhin, but the best part is going to be the sharlotka,"Alice said.

"Mmm, yes, that will surely get you laid tonight. Edward's sweet tooth is almost as big as his..."

"Alright, that's enough, Alex. Get out of this kitchen and don't let me catch you prowling around the house tonight," Tanya reprimanded.

"Only if Alice volunteers to keep me occupied." He licked his lips and eyed Alice up and down.

"You're a pig." Alice stomped past him and out of the kitchen but not before slugging him in the shoulder.

"See you tonight!" Alex called after her, grinning and rubbing his arm even though he barely felt it. Tanya followed after her, leaving Isabella and Alex alone. Alex remained propped against the kitchen sink staring at Isabella with a sly grin. Isabella tried to ignore his presence and concentrate on the potato soup.

Finally Isabella set the spoon down and returned Alex's stare.

"What?"

"Don't move." He was gone in a flash and back in an instant. He dropped something on the table and pointed to it.

"Play that. Tonight during dinner. In fact have it playing when he walks through the door. Side one first. That should get you through the main course. And then side two for dessert."

Isabella picked up the vinyl sleeve and turned it. DeBussy.

"Trust me," Alex shrugged.

"...I don't know what to say. Thank-"

"Yeah yeah. Just play it."

**

The house was quiet. Not empty, for most everyone was home, but everyone was quiet, in their own private nooks spending their own private Valentine's evenings in their own private ways. Alice and Tanya had bought a cheap bottle of wine and were curled up in Jake's room playing cards and telling dirty jokes. Jasper and Sam were writing a song in the laundry room while Sam tried to convince Jasper to ask Alice out.

And Alex.

Alex was in the attic. Alone. Just like he promised.

Isabella wore the dress Tanya lent her – a short-sleeved light pink frock that cinched at her waist and ended mid-calf. It had a rounded neck that unintentionally accentuated her modest breasts. It was a half-size too big for her and she adjusted and re-adjusted it awkwardly as she fidgeted in the uncomfortable kitchen chair. She stood up and sat down, stirring and restirring the boiling pot on the stove in nervous anticipation of Edward's arrival. He had found a job across town giving beginner piano lessons to the home-bound wife of one of Emmett's co-workers from the mill. It was a safe job paying a fraction of what Edward made at the dance studio, but it was work.

Isabella checked her reflection in the oven door, combing her fingers through the ends of her hair, tucking and untucking it behind her ears, licking her lips, and pinching her cheeks rosy. Then she pulled the door down and took out the dark, heavy bread freshly baked inside.

He'd be home any minute. Isabella had the table set and the entire bottom floor of the house to herself. She hummed as she walked into the living room and over to the record player. She leaned over it and placed the needle down on side one of the vinyl Alex gave her. It scratched and wobbled and just when she thought it was a dud, it began producing some of the most wondrous sounds she had ever heard.

Alex knew what he was talking about after all. She never should have doubted him.

Isabella stood to return to the kitchen, deciding it was time to take the soup from the stove. As she turned her breath hitched in her throat.

Edward stood silently in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the wall, his head cocked to the side. He stared at Isabella with a sideways grin. She took a backwards stutter-step, taken off guard by his tall form and astounding beauty. He wore a fitted black blazer, his copper hair mussed from the wind outside and he held a single red rose between his long fingers.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Isabella," his voice sang through the air. He held the rose out to her. She went to him and lifted it out of his hand. Their eyes met and danced as she brought it to her nose and mouthed, Thank you.

"I've never seen you look more beautiful," he exhaled, pulling on the back of his neck. His eyes soaked down Isabella's body in awe. She bowed her head and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress.

"It doesn't fit," she muttered, blushing. "But it's all they could find. I wanted to-"

As if to silence her nonsense talk, Edward lifted her chin and placed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. The gestured stilled her and she melted into his arms.

"You smell nice," she said into his teeth. "Like outside and inside. Summer and winter. The best of everything."

Edward chuckled and pushed her shoulders back so her could look into her face. "Did you do all this yourself?" His eyes scanned the living room, spotless with a small fire burning in the hearth, and into the kitchen where two candles burned in the center of the table, filling the room with warm, muted light. He walked her inside and inhaled the home-cooked smell.

"The girls helped me. I can't leave the house so I had no way to get you a gift," she frowned. "Edward, I'm sorry, you know if I could have...you know you're all I think about."

"Shhhhh," he soothed, placing his lips to her eyelids, the tip of her nose then resting them on her mouth.

"Just being with you is the best gift you could give me."

She smiled against his cheek and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"He said you'd say that."

"Who said?"

"...Alex."

Edward stiffened, then relaxed into the chair in front of his place setting.

"Oh he did, did he? And how'd that go?" He unfolded the napkin and placed it on his lap.

Isabella spooned soup into a bowl and placed it in front of him. "You don't like me talking to him, do you?"

"Quite the opposite," he replied honestly. "I have nothing to hide. I want you to talk to all of my friends, of which Alex is one. But, you know there's more to it than that."

Isabella pulled out her chair and sat next to him, watching as he dipped his spoon into the soup and put it to his lips. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

"This is very good, " Edward smiled at her as he took another spoonful. She smiled and they ate from their plates as Debussy played in the background.

"Wonderful choice," he commented, raising his eyebrows in the direction of the music.

Isabella cleared her throat daintily. "You loved him," she stated calmly, sitting up straight. Edward swallowed quickly, startled by her presumption. She was not being accusatory or meddlesome in her interest in his relationship with Alex. He knew her well enough to know that she did not waste her time with base reactions such as those.

"Yes. It's true. I did. Very much at the time." His eyes stayed fixed on hers as he spoke the words. He watched for signs of cringe or disgust, but found none in her expression.

"I'm sorry if all of this is too much for you, Isabella. I understand if you are uncomfortable with the arrangement that exists in this house, but please believe me when I tell you that he is a brother to me now. Nothing more. On my mother's grave, I swear that to you."

"Edward, stop such talk." She slid her hand across the table and into Edward's, closing her fingers around his. "You don't owe me an explanation. I think it's wonderful that you've experienced love in your life. Love is nothing to be ashamed of, and it only proves to me how strong your heart is and how extraordinary of a creature you are that you are capable of giving and receiving such love."

Edward's chest tightened and a lump formed in his throat as the power of Isabella's words overcame him.

"You take my breath away. Do you know that, Miss Swan? My beautiful, marvelous, Bella," he murmured, pulling her from her chair and onto his lap. "I love you. I've used those words before, but I've never known the true depth of the emotion until the day you walked into my life."

Edward pushed out his chair and picked Isabella up in his arms and carried her into the living room. In the center of the floor he set her on her feet and hitched her into his arms so their chests were pressed together. Isabella held her breath, unsure of what came next but content to be held by Edward forever.

"Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

She answered by holding his magical gaze and tightening her body in his hold. They swayed and their feet moved in perfect time to the music. Even after the needle skipped and slid at the end of the record, they continued to move to a rhythm all their own. Circling the room they knew they needed more and Edward took the lead and began undoing the thin belt around Isabella's waist as they made their way back to their bedroom.

"Perfection," he mumbled under his breath as she stood naked before him, her dress around her ankles, her dark hair cascading in rivulets over her shoulders. "What have I done to deserve a night like tonight?" he asked the angel on his shoulder.

They moved to the bed and Edward undressed quickly while Isabella positioned herself in the center of the mattress. He ran his palms up her calves and the inside of her thighs towards her throbbing heat.

"Wait," she writhed under his touch and Edward froze.

"I'm sorry. Am I-?"

She palmed her hand under the ridge of Edward's defined jawline and smiled sweetly. Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. How could it be? She had her love between her legs, bare and kneeling at her altar.

"Let me look at you like this, for just a moment," she requested with lust-hooded eyes. The moonlight streaming through the window and the way it fell across Edward's muscled back and pooled in the ridge of his spine. She wanted to memorize the image of his length bobbing between her knees and the pout of his full lips as they waited for permission to combine with her own. Each second beat their hearts louder and faster and Edward's breaths rushed and grew desperate as the perspiration dappled his skin and caught in his chest hairs.

Isabella sighed and laid back, her arms outstretched and she spread her legs and raised her hips inviting Edward in.

"Now," she moaned as she closed her eyes and waited for Edward to fill her body and soul.