36. BLEACHED
He was supposed to drop her off on Sunday night. They had it all planned. He'd park his car in the small cul-de-sac behind the science faculty, she'd creep back to her dorm without being seen. But then he'd kissed her again. She'd dug her fingers into his sides, making soft noises as his lips sucked gently at hers, and he'd been lost.
That's why Edward drives as slowly as he can across campus early Monday morning, almost chasing the sun as it rises in the pale gray sky. He's clasping Bella's thigh with a bleached-white hand, afraid if he lets go she might disappear.
It's wrong. All of it. From the first kiss to the final orgasm. From his whispered desires to their unspoken words. The pain of losing something else he desperately wants seems so raw, so excruciating, it takes his breath away.
When he pulls up to the building he can barely bring himself to look at her. But, feeling the burn of her stare, he drags his gaze until it meets hers, warm brown meeting murky green. The crushing sensation in his chest intensifies.
"Thank you. For everything." A gravel-voiced goodbye. He says it even though he will see her in two hours. Because by then she will simply be his student again.
The thought makes him want to scream.
Her bottom lip trembles. She reaches for the door handle with a shaking hand. It takes everything he has not to wrap his fingers around her slender wrist and pull it away. Instead he watches her open the door and swing her long legs around. Remembering how they felt when they circled his hips.
"You have my number, right? You can call me. Any time. If you want to talk about your mom, or..." He trails off; aware his words are building a wall between them. Moving them from lovers to something else. The imbalance is back: he as her teacher, she his student.
The long weekend's little more than a memory.
"I will. And thank you. You'll find it hard to believe, but this was the best Thanksgiving I've ever had."
Her simple admission crushes him. She doesn't say anything else, merely looks at him with those soulful eyes, the tiniest of smiles painting her lips. This isn't over. It can't be. The monster isn't slayed, the maiden hasn't been saved. Just as a quest can't be abandoned halfway through, nor can their relationship be limited to a single, stolen weekend.
It's bigger than that. Bigger than both of them.
It's going to devour them whole.