Antiaol, bmango and mskathy own me. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. But I own Subward.
Our Lives Unbound, Chapter 29: Our Lives Unbound
Staring out the window of the taxi cab, Bella's hand is warm in mine, her smile brilliant as she recognizes where we are. When we come to a stop outside her favorite restaurant, I kiss her palm and pay the driver, stepping out and moving to get her door for her. In the short black dress that she has chosen, she is stunning beyond all reason, her legs sinfully long and made all the more so by heels that I cannot help but imagine digging painfully into my ass as she pulls me deeper.
Standing there on the sidewalk, newly emboldened by the love we made in her shower, I resolve to feel just that. To place her on the edge of my table or the back of my couch and to push into her. I resolve to do so while she is wearing nothing but those shoes.
As she stands, she casts me a knowing smirk and surreptitiously runs a hand down the front of my pants, palming my cock between our bodies, forcing out a quiet groan and making my hand grip tightly at her arm. "Not fair," I whisper huskily, grazing her cheek with my nose and kissing her temple in distraction.
"Never said I would be."
I sigh and place my palm on her waist, following her and holding the door.
Inside the restaurant, Alice and Jasper are already seated at a table near the back, and I nod toward them as we enter.
"No fucking way," Bella hisses.
"Way," I argue.
"Lord help us all."
I silently agree, especially when I see the scowl on Alice's face, although I am surprised to find that it is not directed at me for once. My eyes move to Jasper's face, and I am tempted to grab Bella and retreat back to the door when I see the open annoyance on his face. It is a stark contrast to his normally cool demeanor to see him so upset, and already my stomach is roiling, wondering how I can possibly hold this together, when normally I can scarcely even hold myself.
As we approach, Alice notices us first, kicking Jasper beneath the table and eliciting an infuriated grunt from him. He turns to her with hard eyes but is redirected by her pointing, glancing up at us and schooling his expression.
Although Alice remains seated, Jasper stands to greet us, shaking my hand and kissing Bella on the cheek, whispering, "Happy birthday," before sitting back down. We all exchange tense pleasantries, Bella's hand resting on my knee for most of the time. She turns to me with soft, warm eyes and a gentle kiss when Jasper tells her this was all my idea. When her finger traces along my collar, I blush and lower my eyes, reaching down to caress her stocking-covered thigh.
"Lovely," Alice mutters at our display, and when the waitress comes to take our orders, she is the first to request a cocktail. The rest of us follow suit, opting for wine and beer. Alice's thinly veiled glass of vodka stands in contrast to the others when the drinks are delivered, and even more so when she begins gulping it down before I can even raise my glass to offer a perfunctory, mangled toast.
Things do not get easier as the meal progresses, tension radiating from across the table in waves that have Bella and me casting nervous glances at each other repeatedly. As Alice drinks, her comments grow more biting, her efforts at appearing polite less and less effective. When she motions to the waitress for a third martini, Jasper covers her hand and waves the girl away, ducking his head to whisper sharply to Alice to stop, but this only makes her angrier, and before long I am certain that this was all a terrible, terrible idea.
We all pick at our entrees in vaguely mortified silence, my hand rubbing apologetic circles on Bella's leg. She keeps her head down, and I feel my heart fall, knowing all my efforts have been for naught. Finally, Alice excuses herself to use the restroom before stumbling away on incredibly unsteady feet. Jasper and I both glance at Bella, who would usually offer to accompany her friend, but tonight she makes no motions to do so, simply twirling her pasta on her fork and looking down.
Once Alice is out of earshot, though, Bella's posture becomes much less demure, her spine straightening and her voice growing sharp. "What the fuck is going on, Jasper?"
Jasper lets his silverware clatter to the table and drops his head into his hands. "I have no clue. Not a single fucking one. I'd say she was on her period, but it's not true. She's just been a first-class bitch all day."
"Did anything hhhappen?"
Jasper chuckles and dry-washes his face, addressing me as he says, "I wish I knew. I don't think she's terribly pleased with you, though."
I roll my eyes. "Ssso what else is new?"
"No, like really pissed." He casts an apologetic glance at Bella. "Alice always plans your birthday, and I think she was waiting for you to get mad when she didn't. Force a conversation or an apology or something. Then I went and told Edward, so now she's mad at him for messing up her plans. Me for giving him the idea. Hell, I think she's mad at you for having the balls to have a birthday at all and steal the thunder from her little meltdown."
"Jesus Christ," Bella swears, wiping her mouth and raking her hand through her hair.
"I'm ssssorry," I mumble. I am, and at the same time, I am not. Why should I be sorry for wanting to love my girlfriend on her birthday?
"Don't be," Bella says quickly, clearly thinking similarly. "Alice needs to get used to you doing nice things for me."
Jasper casts a sympathetic look my way. "Agreed." He sighs and rakes his hand across his face. "I'll do what I can, but she seems intent on pissing off everybody tonight. And Lord knows I can try to keep her sober, but it's going to be hard when we get to the club."
Bella casts me a sly look, and I sigh. Scowling at Jasper jokingly, I say, "Well, I guess that cat's out of the b-bag."
"Fuck. Sorry, man."
"Whatever. It's okay."
"Ugh," Bella interjects. "She's going to be a mess if she gets hammered. This is so wrong to suggest, but … can't you just take her home or something?"
"No can do." Jasper's eyes dart between the both of us. "I know you wanted to keep this small," he says, addressing me, "but Ali may have had, um, other plans."
My stomach drops. "She d-didn't."
"Yup." Jasper's expression is guilty as he fidgets. "She invited the whole gang."
I drop my own fork and cover my face with my hand. When I dare to look at Bella, it is with an apology in my eyes. While Bella loves these kinds of nights out, everything Jasper has told me indicates that she hates to have the attention focused on her. I am just about to apologize out loud when, to my surprise, Bella takes one look at my guilty countenance and breaks the silence with a wild, hopeless laugh.
Pulling my neck, she brings me down for a kiss. "Well, fuck it, then," she says, holding up her glass. Just as Alice is returning, Bella catches the waitress's attention. "Another round for everybody," she says, but then rethinks. Pointing at Alice, she adds, "Everyone but her."
Alice sinks back down into her seat, shrinking away from Jasper when he tries to interlace their hands.
And then she shoots us all a glare that sucks the laughter from the air.
#~~#~~#
Eager to escape the awkwardness of dinner, we head over to the club a little earlier than we normally would. I am far from drunk, but there is a low, warm buzz about my brain that smooths the edges and makes everything a little easier to deal with. Especially Alice.
The club is not yet crowded when we arrive, but it is still loud and dark, a few scattered bodies moving sinuously out on the dance floor. I remember the last time Bella dragged me out to dance and slide my hands over the bare skin of her arms, knowing it will take much less convincing tonight - knowing I want nothing more than to press against her and to let my body be loose, succumbing to rhythm and touch.
A few of Bella's friends have beaten us here, and they swiftly call us over, beckoning us to join them at the tables they have secured in the quieter back corner of the room. Bella and I slide into the booth, and I notice that Jasper joins us on our side while Alice heads to the other. It is a relief to have that distance from her, and defenses are quickly dropped, my whole side of the table falling into laughter as we strive to talk above the music. As the hours slide by, I lose count of how much I have had to drink, focusing only on the smile that seems plastered on Bella's face and on the sound of her voice.
My voice, too, is easy and smooth, and it is a strange, heady thing to feel so comfortable amongst people.
It is stranger still to be comfortable with Bella swaying against my side, rocking back and forth to the sound of the bass.
At some point during a lull in conversation, she begins to suck and kiss her way down my neck, tonguing the skin around my collar in a way that is painfully arousing.
"Dance with me."
I do not hesitate to oblige, standing on feet that are steady but which feel far away, as if everything is distant and below me. With her hand around my wrist, she tugs me into the throng, pressing bodies out of the way until we are in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by music and pulsing lights, and I want her. So badly.
"I love the way you move," she says. It is loud but still barely audible, and the words send another rush of need to my hungry flesh. I pull her against me, grinding roughly against her hips, my knees bending to bring me down to her height, and I feel like I could come, just like this.
"I love you," I answer, and I do.
God, I do.
As we grind and dance and kiss, my hands roving freely over barely contained curves, we speak of desire and of what we want to do to each other.
"On your back," she groans. "Tied up. On the floor. I want to sit on your face and watch you fuck me with your tongue."
"Perfect," I murmur back, sucking on her ear and sliding my hands beneath her skirt.
"Then I'm going to fuck you." She lifts one leg and curls it around mine, pulling me closer, and I can feel the point of her heel digging into my thigh.
"Fuck. Will you leave these on?" I slide my hand back down her leg, hitching her thigh higher against me, opening her up before drifting down her calf to touch the strap of her shoe.
She laughs, but it is not derisive. It's warm. Happy. "Kinky."
"Always," I agree, teasing her flesh with my teeth.
"Thank fuck for that."
We dance and grind and touch in silence for a few more songs. Her breath is as ragged as my own, and I pull her in more tightly against me when I feel the way her hands squeeze my shoulders, her sex so hot against my thigh even through my clothes.
She's close.
I want her closer.
"I want to make you come," I tell her. "Right here." To show my sincerity, I grab her ass. All around us, other couples are dancing just as seductively, heads thrown back and bodies writhing, and I want this. "Let me make you come."
Her answer is a breathless nod, and I start to pull her up and down my thigh in earnest, pressing just to where I think her clit must be, dry fucking on a dance floor, and she is panting, breathing harder. Squeezing.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," she curses, a whisper and a scream as she buries her face to my neck, her skin flushed and a new rush of warmth and heat seeping through my pants.
I am close myself, but I restrain the need, wanting to come inside her pussy and not in my clothes. Wanting to wait until tonight.
Wanting to lick my bracelet on her skin when I come.
As her orgasm fades, her grip loosens, her thigh dropping from around my hip, and she is sinking into me. I hold her up and kiss her ear and neck and mouth. At the sound of her laughter, my chest inflates more fully. When she pulls back, it is only to laugh some more, her expression so carefree.
"That was fucking awesome," she says, smiling and kissing me, stumbling slightly before she can latch back onto my neck. Once she is steadied, she lets her hand drift down my body, squeezing me once through my pants. Hot pleasure burns through my abdomen, making me want more, faster, now, but still I retreat
With a grimace, I grab her hand, holding her gaze as I bend to kiss her palm. "Later," I promise.
There is promise to the way she licks my collar in response, but there's drunkenness, too, as she informs me loudly that she needs to piss . I laugh and kiss her and push her toward the ladies' room, straining to see in the dark once she is gone.
Over by the bar, I see Jasper's mop of curly blond hair, and without hesitation I move to join him. Navigating my way through the sea of people, I head to the bar, mimicking his mannerisms as I place a hand on his shoulder to announce that I am there. Yelling to be heard above the music, he asks if I want another drink, and I consent, ordering one for Bella, too. When the bartender returns with four drinks instead of three, I glance at Jasper to find him studiously avoiding my gaze, but still I say nothing.
Together, we carry the glasses back to the table. Although it seemed plenty loud earlier, it is quieter here than it was back at the bar, and I can tell as we approach that there is an animated conversation going on.
I pale when I realize that Alice is the center of it.
"I mean, really," she shouts. "At thirty-three your ovaries are shriveling. I told her she needs to settle down soon if she ever wants a family. But you know Bella."
Alice's back is turned to Jasper and me, three people listening to her raptly, and I feel my stomach twisting.
I know Bella.
And I want Bella to settle down. I want her to settle down with me.
"What about that guy she's dating now? The one with the stutter?"
Alice snorts, and I almost crush the glass in my hand. "Pretty sure you need a dick to knock a girl up. Good luck with that pussy. You should hear about the shit he -"
"Enough."
The voice comes from behind me, shocking me. Two glasses land on the table and then Jasper's hand is on Alice's shoulder, pulling and twisting until she is standing up. Her eyes are unfocused as they turn to him and then me, her jaw dropping when she realizes that we have heard everything.
"I didn't - "
"I don't want to hear it," Jasper spits, but as he does, he is dragging her away from the table and toward a darkened corner. There, he hovers over her, his body language closed, his expression stern, and when she tries to touch him, he rebuffs her.
Every time, he stops her.
"What's going on?" Bella's hand is warm on my neck, her lips sloppy and wet and still drunk, but I am feeling shockingly sober.
My tongue numb, I simply point. Bella turns just in time to catch Alice raise her hand, her eyes flashing, and I wince in anticipation of the slap. Jasper's arm shoots up before her hand can connect with his face, though. Across the space, I cannot hear the words, but there is something final to the way Jasper says them.
Alice's mouth drops open, and my heart wants to hurt at the look of pain on her crumpling face, but I cannot quite bring myself to that level of sympathy. Jasper is already releasing her, turning, unlistening as Alice positively screams, her voice carrying even all the way to us. He does not turn, though.
He doesn't even look back.
Instead, he proceeds over to us, shaking his head and warning off all questions with tired, pain-ridden eyes. I watch, numb, as he bends to kiss Bella's cheek. She asks him something I cannot hear, but he just shakes his head and gives her a sad, soft smile.
"She'd gonna need you," he says, and Bella nods. Squeezing my hand, she shoots me a glance before heading to the corner of the room where Alice now stands alone, her back to the wall and her shoulders peeling away from it, tears streaking deep black lines down the sides of her face.
I watch as the two of them embrace, all the fight seemingly pouring from Alice's body as she clings to Bella, sobbing and then shoving, but Bella doesn't let Alice push her away.
"Sorry if I ruined your night," Jasper says in a tired voice as he clasps my hand.
"D-did you break up with her?"
"Yup." His mouth goes rigid, a stiff line that seems ready to break at any moment. "Sometimes … some things … Well, let's just say it was time."
I stare at Alice and Bella as they cling to each other, barely hearing myself as I say, "But I thought you loved her."
"Always have," he agrees, looking back over his shoulder for the very first time. "Probably always will."
"Then hhhhhow..."
He shoots me an exhausted, cracking smile. "She has some growing up to do. And this time I can't do it with her." Turning away from the sight of Alice's devastation, he claps me on the shoulder and pulls away. "I need to go now."
I nod, my throat dry. "See you later?"
"Absolutely."
And then he is gone.
Although I do not want to, I slide back into the booth, pretending not to care about the conversation that had been going on about me and Bella or about the spectacle of Alice and Jasper's meltdown, but I cannot pull my eyes from Bella or from the way she is embracing her friend.
I cannot ignore her tears.
As they continue to huddle and talk, Bella's arm around Alice's shoulders, I watch my plans for the evening dissolve, and I am not surprised when Bella leaves Alice sniffling in the corner to walk over to me with an apology in her eyes.
I am not surprised. But my disappointment is more than enough to make up for it.
As I stand to meet her, she speaks. "Edward, I - "
"I know," I choke out.
"I promise to come over as soon as I get her home."
Closing my eyes, I lift my hands to cup her face. "If you can," I manage. "If you want to."
"Of course I do. I just have to … Alice needs me."
I smile sadly and look down at her. "I always need you. But I understand." Ducking my head, I kiss her softly, lingering on her bottom lip before letting her go, my fingertips brushing her naked wrist with wistfulness. With regret.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Then I watch the only woman I have ever loved move arm in arm across the room with the woman who hates me.
Silently, I watch them leave.
#~~#~~#
As I move around the darkened space of my apartment, slamming cabinets and throwing back another glass of whiskey, it does not escape me that my anger is petty - almost as petty as my fear. Bella's kindness has always been among her very best qualities, and so many times I have been the one to benefit from it.
Still, the idea of Alice speaking poison to her makes me shiver, and I pour another shot, wandering back to my bedroom with the amber liquid in my hand. It spills a little when I set it down, forcing a laugh from my burning throat. From my jacket pocket, I extract the small, wrapped package that I had meant to give to Bella tonight, watching it mock me from its perch on Bella's pillow. As I lie down beside it, I let myself soak up her scent, my hand caressing cottony fabric instead of skin.
Over and over again, I tell myself she'll come. That I am proving myself to be the better person for letting her go. That she'll see that.
And sometimes, as the minutes slip past … sometimes I even believe it.
#~~#~~#
I wake still in my clothes, curled around a pillow that smells like love, whiskey on my breath and sleep in my eyes. Soft fingers twist and twirl in my hair, and whether or not this is a dream, I lean into them, humming with pleasure. My hand reaches out, seeking skin and finding it. A quiet sound escapes my lips, cut off by the soft pressure of a kiss.
"Shh, baby," Bella whispers, her lips drifting gently up my face.
"Bella?"
"Mhmm."
I open my eyes to a darkened room and to soft, kind eyes staring down at me through the dim. Without thought or reservation, I push the pillow to the side and shift my body to wrap around hers, my head in her lap and her fingers still working magic against my scalp.
"You're here," I mumble.
She laughs. "Told you I would be. Are you surprised?"
I shrug. "Just happy."
"I'm happy to be with you, too. Sorry I left."
"S'okay." It is. Now.
The world melts into silence and darkness and the warmth of her embrace. We sit there quietly for a few minutes while my eyes refocus, the world shifting slowly back into view. The tiniest bubble of bile rises up in my throat as I try to swallow, my lungs tight. "How's Alice?"
Bella sighs. "I think she'll be okay. She tried to get me to stay, but I told her I couldn't. Not tonight."
Closing my eyes, I swallow hard. "You could have. B-but I'm glad you're here."
"Oh, baby," Bella murmurs. "You planned such a nice evening for me. I couldn't ditch you after that."
It doesn't escape me that nothing she has said indicates that she wants to be here.
Only that she knew that I would want her to.
My heart flashes cold, and I can hear it in my words that my voice does, too. "You c-could have."
"Edward," she says. Her voice is sharper now. Less gentle. "Look at me, baby." I lift my eyes to find her face soft and open. "Edward, I love you. There's never any place I want to be but here. With you."
The combination of her expression and her words dissipates a little of the cold, and with a rough surge of relief, I lift myself onto one elbow, letting my hand move to her hair to pull her down to me, kissing her softly. "Love you."
She smiles with her mouth and with her eyes. "That's kind of the point."
"I know." Feeling adequately chagrined for my petulance, I lie back down but drag her with me, closing my arms around her and kissing her at greater length. Though I have found no satisfaction - although there is still a needy edge of desire to every fiber of my body - this is the kind of kissing that is not about sex. It's about connection. It's about love and forgiveness.
When I need to pause for air, I only pull back about an inch, staring into her eyes and stroking her hair as I murmur, "Happy birthday."
"Yeah," she says, grinning softly. "Yeah, it was."
There is still a little haze to everything, and I am surprised to see that only a couple of hours have passed since I wandered home alone. The two shots of scotch I downed upon returning are burning low in my stomach, making me feel slightly sick as I dance my fingers up and down my Bella's spine.
I remember why I drank them.
I remember the feelings of inadequacy stemming from Alice's words and from Bella's choice.
I remember wanting her to choose me.
Always.
My fingers find her wrist, stroking soft, naked skin before skimming up to her knuckles. To the third finger on her bare left hand. Effecting nonchalance, I rub the first knuckle of each finger in turn, but I know where my attention really lies.
I know which one I want to mark as my own.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out my first thought. "D-do you ever think about ssssettling down?"
They are Alice's words. Not mine. But I say them all the same.
Bella stiffens slightly, but she does not pull away. "I don't know. Like … getting married or something?"
"Mmmmaybe. Not now. Not t-to me, necessarily," I offer, cringing at the loudness of my lie. "Just … just in general."
Her answer, when it comes, is slow and careful. Calculated. "I haven't really." Her hand moves to intertwine with mine, stopping my incessant stroking of her skin but still keeping me close. "With how things have gone, I guess I just never expected to. I'm not against it or anything. It's just not something I ever really saw happening. For me."
"D-do you ever think you might … want to?"
"I don't know. Maybe?"
My eyes close, my breath shallow, and I can feel everything swimming all around me. "I know … I knnnnow I just said … This isn't about me. Just … D-do you think you ever might wwwant to? Someday?" My voice is softer than a whisper. "With me?"
If she was stiff inside my arms before, she is now frozen, and there is nothing more I need to hear. Already, I have Alice's words. Already, I have the fears that I have harbored for so many years.
And yet I have months of happiness, too.
Months of love.
With my stomach twisting, I pull one hand from her skin and roll to my back, staring up at the ceiling as if it could hold answers. As if, unlike my future, it is anything but blank.
"I never thought I would, Edward." The small voice from beside me does nothing for the downward spiral of my thoughts. When I fail to turn to face her, she moves her own body to hover over mine, but still I refuse to look. Even if I wanted to, my eyes are unseeing. I am unfeeling.
"I never thought I would," she repeats. There is a little tremor to her speech, some hint of emotion that breaks through the numb, but I can't tell if it is with hope or pain. When she closes in to kiss my lips and cheeks and chin, I shut my eyes, reveling in the burn. "But... " she whispers. "But being with you makes me think I could."
Still unable to bear to look, I pull her in and squeeze her tightly to my chest, rocking and breathing. Feeling. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she says. It is serious, but there is a relief to it, too, that sounds like laughter to my ears.
I am almost silent as I bare myself to her. "I want that. Someday. With you."
I can feel her nod against my throat. "I can't promise you anything. Not anytime soon, anyway, but …"
"Not soon," I agree, too many years of solitude having scared me off commitments made in haste. Finally opening my eyes, though, I take in the four walls of my room, processing all the little touches that show that she now lives here, too. And there is nothing about it that frightens me. Turning my head to kiss her temple, I repeat, "Just sssomeday. Someday."
Shakily, but with a smile, she says, "I can work with someday."
We lapse into a warm, lingering silence, and all the things that did not make sense to me a few hours ago suddenly do. My life again fits into the shimmering lines that have opened up before me in the wake of Bella's presence in my life.
And I know what I want to do.
"I did g-get you something," I say quietly, breaking the silence and lifting myself up so I can see her. She sits and sweeps her hair from her eyes, cocking an eyebrow at me warily. "Nnnothing big," I promise. Patting her pillow, I am surprised to find the present missing, and I sit so I can scan the room. Eventually, my eyes alight upon the soft gleam of the wrapping paper, on the floor on the other side of the bed. Light-headed and less than sober, it takes me a moment to stand and steady myself. When my feet are once again beneath me, I move across the room to retrieve the small, wrapped package before returning to the bed.
It is only habitual to kneel on the floor beside her as I present the gift, and it takes me a few seconds to understand the terrified look in her eyes as she stares down at me. I laugh and grab her by the neck, kissing her mouth in long strokes of lips and tongues. "It's not a ring, I promise."
The kiss deepens with her relief, the wideness of our smiles making it more difficult to do this properly, but still we try. Pulling back, I press the package into her hands.
And all the while, as she is opening it, I feel as if my heart is in her hands as well.
Slowly, Bella tears away the paper to reveal the box within. I feel my throat grow tight as she lifts the lid, peeking inside with what appears to be an equal amount of happiness and trepidation. For a moment, she simply stares, neither moving nor speaking, her eyes growing wide.
But then her lip quivers, and my heart is seared with the knowledge that I have done alright.
That we will be alright.
"Oh, Edward," she says, a quiet intake of air and even quieter words. Before her, she holds the silver cuff, three Celtic knots set in relief. Twisting it, we watch as light glints off the metal, my hand moving to surround hers, tilting so that she can see inside. To the words that I have etched in metal, much like they've been etched inside my heart.
Her eyes grow soft and damp as she reads:
My Mistress. My love. My Bella. -E.A.C.
Touching her initial on my collar with one hand, I turn the bracelet with the other, pointing to the place inside the band where I have added my own initials. I speak them aloud as I traced my thumb across the metal. "Edward Anthony Cullen. So you would know. Always. That you're mmmine and that I'm yours."
Her face is nearly cracking with the strain of smiling and crying, her body shifting off the bed to join me on her knees. At the feeling of her arms encircling me, our chests pressed together, I hear my own breath hitch, breaking with the force of pulling in air when I am so, so happy.
"I love it," she says, squeezing me more tightly.
"I love you." It is redundant and yet so necessary.
Lacking words, she simply nods, pressing her hands to either side of my face and pulling my lips to hers. In the ensuing tumble, grasping hands and pressing chests and her legs moving to straddle my hips, the bracelet falls. I reach down, one eye open to search it out on the floor. Kissing her again, my tongue insistent in her mouth, I surround her wrist with my forefinger and my thumb, touching the skin that has haunted me all evening, breathing simply, "May I?" before I pull her palm back from my skin.
"Yes."
Kissing her wrist, I slide my grip up her hand, slipping her fingers into the metal band, my chest and eyes both burning when I slide it home, feeling my name and love against her skin like a red-hot brand inside my throat. For a moment, the room is silent but for our breaths, our eyes both fixed upon the silver circle and the three unbreakable knots.
The ties that bind me to her.
Three symbols of all the ways in which our lives have become unbound.
Free from who we thought we were. From who we were supposed to be.
Free to be ourselves and to simply love each other.
The spell is broken when my eager thumb comes up to caress her flesh, feeling cold metal and warm skin and loving the way that they are blending, one into the other. My hand drifts up her arm and to her face, my fingers surrounding her jaw as my palm rests just against her pulse. With our eyes open, our lips brush, the hand with the bracelet coming up to touch my collar in a gesture so powerful it staggers me.
In the next few minutes, it is as if our clothes begin to melt away, leaving us in only skin and names, her body pressed to mine on the floor with my back against the bed. While she is the one to sink down over me, taking me deeply inside her body, there is a single, glowing, crystalline moment when it does not matter who is on top. Who is touching and who is taking. Who is giving.
After all, we are both making love.
As we each approach our pinnacle, Bella places her hands on the mattress to either side of my head, using that leverage to move herself over me just as my own hands on her hips help guide her, sliding her up and down my body. My one thumb comes down to circle her clit as her face grows flushed, breasts brushing my chest with every thrust.
Just as pleasure begins to slam over me, her body tensing and clenching, I twist my neck, looking away from her eyes to rest my gaze on twisted, glimmering metal.
On knots that I pray will never be undone.
And as I crest, spilling inside of her, I press my lips to those shining silver lines.
Knowing that we are tied together just as tightly.
That our futures, from this point on, are one.
.
.
.
.
.
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A/N: *sniffle* Just a handful of chapters left at this point. A half dozen at the most.
Probably two weeks until the next one. Sorry, real life and all.
Thanks. -tlig
