Many many grateful words to my Beta, wonderful black wolfgirl2722 for her time and patience :-) Also to frostedglaze for kind words and pre-reading :-)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


THE STOLEN WORDS

by AliciousMind


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - Overwhelmed

BPOV

The heat under my cheek was pleasant and calming. My pillow seemed to gently rise and fall, swinging my head in a relaxing rhythm of pure bliss. I could feel the corners of my lips lift up in a content smile. I was enveloped in a tight cocoon of security and care.

I felt loved.

How could I have doubted it? How could I have questioned this connection? How cruel of me had been to run away from him?

I thought my heart would have broken into tiny pieces when I had seen him at my door on this cold morning. He looked both peaceful and exhausted all at once. The perfect angel who hadn't given up on me – on us.

I still didn't understand all that fuss. I knew I somehow had to of misunderstood him and I was willing to hear his explanation about that song.

I yawned in discontent. Why did it always happen to me? I had just found peace and love, and now I had to meet all that drama. And to think that I had been so ecstatic after the talk with Rose the day before. Of course it couldn't have lasted long.

My comfortable pillow moved sideways and his hand travelled up and down my spine making my skin shudder. Then I felt him kissing the top of my head tenderly and hugging my already content body just a bit harder.

I loved when he did that. I loved to feel squeezed almost to the borders of pain. His strength against my weakness, his manhood versus my womanhood. I felt like a woman in his caring arms - wrapped in his tenderness and affection. I sought to be cared and dominated in his embrace. I felt so small and engulfed by his attention and concern. I felt protected.

Like I was important.

I snuggled more closely into his chest purring happily, not wanting to open my eyes just yet.

"Someone is happy today." He chuckled causing my head to bounce on his chest. I giggled starting a new wave of shaking. I held him tight not wanting to separate myself from him yet.

"Well, hello there, my little spider monkey," now he was laughing whole heartedly. I loved his laugh and I hated myself for the discomfort I had caused him yesterday.

He must have sensed the abrupt change in my behavior, because suddenly he pulled me up closer, making us to sit facing each other. His eyes searched mine for a while, his gaze intense, but tender.

"Bella," he started, but I silenced him with a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I know, Edward. We have to talk. I'm sorry I ran away without an explanation. I just panicked and then my emotions cut out all the little reasons I had left." I looked at him wishing he could see how truly sorry I was. For running away, for not believing in him, for all the misery and drama.

He put his palm to my cheek and started stroking it gently. Lost in thought he seemed to analyze the previous evening for the umpteenth time all over again.

"I just couldn't understand what had happened. What had I done to make you so depressed?" his sad eyes begging me now for an answer. "I knew it must have been something about the song. But I still have no idea what it has to do with anything. Why did you react that way?"

I sighed and thought about how to answer. The situation caused us enough misery and now was the moment to clear it up.

"You're right about that song, you know? I was shocked hearing it on the radio, and when you told me it was your song, being all happy and proud, something snapped in me. I felt hurt and betrayed, and those emotions were so overwhelming that I couldn't comprehend them. I ran away because I was not able to deal with them in front of you. It was too personal, you know?" I looked into his green depths seeking his understanding, but found confusion instead. I was so sick with myself right now. How am I going to explain something what I don't get myself?

"Bella." he said finally. "I understand your reaction, your feelings and actions. The only thing I don't get is the source of it. What has that song to do with anything? It is my latest one, the one I had so many problems with. I told you briefly about it and I was surprised that Jasper managed to air it so soon."

"But that is just it. We were talking, and laughing, and then, suddenly you switch that channel and there they are my words, my feelings and emotions, hidden from everyone and now displayed on the radio." My voice broke and I felt new stream of silent tears flowing down my face. But I couldn't tear my blurry eyes from Edward's face. His expression was bewildered and shocked beyond words. His eyes wide and mouth open.

"Your words?" he asked incredulously. "Those were your words?" he repeated himself not believing my confession.

I couldn't speak so I just nodded once.

"Oh, baby," he sobbed pulling me into a loving embrace. "I can't believe it's you I've been searching all this time for. He was breathing heavily and I felt his tears dampening the hair on my neck. He held me to himself trying to calm down from his emotional break.

"Edward, I still don't understand," I tried to sooth him, gently stroking his back with my hand.

"I found a notebook at the airport. It was dumped near the trash bin by a teenage boy. He drew my attention while I was waiting for my luggage. He was behaving suspiciously looking around like he wanted to avoid something, or hide from something. He had a purple bag around his shoulder. I remember thinking that it looked feminine, but then he quickly threw it into the trash and ran away. It was so strange, and then after I collected my bag, I went to the bin to inspect it more closely, only to find the purple notebook next to it. I don't know why, please don't laugh, but something inside me made me pick it up."

I gasped surprised. Was it even possible? Such a big coincidence? Could it all be true? I didn't want to interrupt him, so I waved my hand in a gesture for him to go on.

He concentrated willing to tell me as many details as he could. "I searched the cover for any indication of the owner. I was intrigued to tell the truth. The cover had many doodles and small drawings. I knew right away that it must have belonged to a girl," he smiled softly saying it with affection. "But the only sign of the owner I was able to find were the three letters, the initials,"

"IMS" I finished. Our eyes met and my throat clenched with emotion.

"Isabella Marie Swan," he finished not believing his own discovery.

"I couldn't part with it. I took it home and after the dinner with my parents I went upstairs to inspect it closely. What I found inside outgrew my expectations. The words, your words besotted me." His eyes were on mine again, full of wander and awe.

"I was struggling with the lack of inspiration at that time. I hadn't written any new song for weeks. I had been desperate and doubting myself. That was the reason why I had come to Seattle. I had thought I needed vacation. But when I had been reading your poems, the music in my head started to make sense in my mind; I spent the rest of that night writing the notes and melodies inspired by your words."

He paused then, looking intensely into my eyes, waiting for my reaction no doubt. I understood him well. We never knew when something was going to touch us deeply enough to want to write about it. Some people call it Muse, others - inspiration. You couldn't force it or learn it. It just came and went on its own will. It was independent and sudden, bounding every artist to create its own unique creation.

"I understand. Go on," I whispered, encouraging him to continue.

"When I'd played the songs to Jasper the next day, he had said they'd been my best compositions ever. We had been aware that we had to find the owner of the notebook and beg her to work with us."

While he was explaining all the details about author rights and his ideas how to find the author of his lyrics, his inspiration - as he called her, well me, to be precise, I felt my heart swelled from agitation.

He felt connected to me through my words. Even then, before we met.

I couldn't contain the trembling of my body, touched by this revelation and his endless love for me, just for me.

"Shhhh, love. Clam down, Bella," he was rocking me slowly, gently stroking my hair and whispering sweet nothings to ensure me, that he felt that, too. That he was equally disbelieving that our souls had found each other before our bodies met.

It was all so overwhelming and unexpected. I couldn't grasp it. I was thankful and indebted to that boy, who unconsciously brought my love to me, by stealing my bag in that one lovely spring afternoon.


THE END

?

Haha *evil smirks*

I didn't plan to finish it here, but that last sentence was summing this story up so beautifully that I couldn't resist (LOL)

frostedglaze and black wolfgirl2722 both objected, suggesting more chapters.

Hmmm. I DO HAVE some more ideas...

Well, what do you think ;-) ?

A.