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Disclaimer: All of this is mine…except for the everything…

Chapter Thirty-seven

EPOV

The guest room was brown. My favorite color. And it was no surprise why. Bella's hair and eyes were brown.

"I hope you don't mind brown," she said, "because you'll be sleeping in here! But if you don't want that, I mean, I could paint that I guess."

"No, I love brown." How did she know? I was in awe of her.

She seemed really happy when I put my sweatshirt away in the closet. I wondered why, but I didn't really ponder for long. I remembered how odd Bella was.

Then we went into her room. It was green, a bright color. She had a laptop on her desk that was a few years old and her bed was a bit messed up, but reasonably made. The rest of her room was fairly boring, not very homey other than the two pictures on the wall: her mother and her high school graduation certificate. I watched her from the back and saw Bella give a little shake like she was trying to get rid of some worry. Maybe it was my fault, I should have said something. "What? There's nothing wrong with your room. I love it. The green is lovely, I think." I was, I wondered if she had chosen green for a reason, then I remembered a conversation from a long time ago.

"Alright, so…what is your favorite thing to do?"

"I, um, like to read when I get the chance I guess." She had sounded a bit hesitant, maybe embarrassed? I decided to move on.

"What is your favorite color?"

"Green." She had blushed.

"Hmm, what's that blush?" I had asked her.

"Uh, nothing." I pulled my best puppy dog eyes on her, but she only smiled and shook her head before looking down.

I lifted her chin so that she was looking at me and ordered her to, "Tell me."

"It's the color of your eyes," She sighed, surrendering, staring down at her hands as she was playing with her hair, she seemed uncomfortable, so I had moved on. Had she painted her room green because of my eyes even though she had left me? God, I loved her.

But, of course, even after that realization, she hadn't been cured. "But that's not your problem is it?" I said.

"No, but I'm fine." She shrugged off her own needs, just as she always had. She hadn't changed too much, I realized, no matter how confident she seemed at Dartmouth. "Here, come with me to the kitchen, I'll find you something to drink."

"Alright, thank you. But would you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Oh, it's no big deal." she moved past me toward the kitchen, but grabbed onto her wrist as she did so. That small movement clued me in. I went back to the brown room: my room to get it. I was so grateful that I hadn't left it in the car; it was right in my sweatshirt.

She followed me and asked, "What's up?"

I didn't way anything, but instead handed her the bracelet. The look on her face was priceless. It was why I loved her. She never could understand why people did things for her. Poor woman, kicked around all her life, she had never had a real family. I resolved to make her part of mine. No matter how long it took, I would marry her.

"You…I…this, how?" she said, and then mumbled to herself a bit.

I smiled really wide, I knew what she was trying to say, "I saw you take it off, and then I followed you home."

And then she attacked me. She was kissing me so hard that I fell back into the bed, my knees were knocked out from under me and I sat down hard, pulling her with me. She climbed up to sit in my lap. I was kissing her harder than I had ever kissed her. She was kissing me harder than she had ever kissed me. And then I sensed a change in the kiss. It was no longer a kiss of happiness or gratitude, but of urgency. She wanted me. As I wanted her. I sensed her vulnerability and kissed her with a bit less force, letting her body know that I wasn't going to hurt her.

Soon she was unbuttoning my shirt. It was an amazing feeling, her small hands caressing my skin. The shirt slid down my arms and was on the floor very soon. I couldn't have cared any less. Then she began to pull off her own shirt. The blouse had buttons so she was getting rid of them as fast as she had disposed of mine. I helped her, and soon her shirt was also on the ground.

And then she was afraid. I could feel it in her. Whatever arousal I had before disappeared as quickly as our shirts had. She pulled back and assessed our situation with her methodical mind. And I realized this: it was now or never.

I didn't want to hurt her or scar her for life (more than she was already scarred), so I had to do this very carefully. "Bella, are you afraid?" She whimpered and began to climb off of me and retrieve her clothing. "No, Bella, don't!" I said. She needed to experience this. If she didn't she would never know that she could do things for herself. In retrospect, there were other times that I could have introduced her to such pleasures, but at the time it seemed like I had no other choices.

She tried harder to escape from my lap, but I held her softly and firmly. She looked up at me, and into my eyes. She apparently got what reassurance she needed from them. She relaxed. "I'm sorry, did I scare you?" I said. I needed to know that she understood that I wouldn't hurt her no matter what.

"A little bit, but not anymore." She said truthfully.

And I said to her, "I want to show you something Bella. But I need you not to be afraid. This will probably be new to you…I want to show you…is that alright?" I wanted to show her how to be happy. And the happiest thing I could think of, I assumed that neither of us had experienced. I certainly hadn't and judging by what I'd seen of her life, she hadn't either.

"Yes." She said confusedly.

"Lie back." I ordered.

"Can I get my shirt?" she asked innocently.

"If you really want it, but I'll just take it off again."

Her forehead creased together, I couldsee her wheels turning, and then she got it. She got the general idea, but not quite the whole thing. "Edward," she said exasperatedly, "this isn't new to me in the slightest. You of all people should know that."

"Just go with the flow Bella. This is new to you and to me. The goal here is to make you happy. Not for you to make someone else happy." I tried to explain it to her without giving too much away and having her run before I could even show her anything.

She was mystified, "What?"

I reached around her and pushed her softly so that she was lying on what was to be my bed. "What are you –" I didn't let her finish, I kissed her. And then I took her bra off and dropped it to the floor with her shirt. I felt her eyelids brush mine and knew that she had closed her eyes. Apparently she was more aware than I thought; she was actually going to let me do this!

I saw her face, her beautiful face, she was otherworldly happy, and I almost cried with satisfaction. I had done that to her! I had made her feel that way. Oh how I loved my angel. When she was finally coherent enough to understand me I said, "You are perfect." to her, and I truly believed it.

"Me? No, you!" she laughed, it was a beautiful sound, full of happiness and joy and love and satisfaction. But she blushed then and half whispered half laughed to me: "That was…indescribable!"

I smiled and bit my lip. I hoped it was as amazing as it is fabled to be, especially for her. I hoped that she had gotten her due, after all these years, twenty-two, she finally understood what it was to be loved in the most physical way possible. "Good."

She exhaled, obviously overwhelmed. "Wow."

"I know." I told her, I loved her so much! I loved her, I loved her, I loved her!

She blushed an even deeper red, "Have you ever…"

I was about to gnaw off my lip, "No, but I am a medical student. I know all about this stuff."

"Clinically."

"Well, yes."

I saw a mischievous glint in her eye, "But shouldn't you get some firsthand experience?"

"Bella." It was a warning that she chose to ignore.

"Edward, I want to make you happy, I want you to feel what I just felt. It was the most amazing…the most…just, please Edward?"

"Alright, but if you want to stop, just say something."

She smiled, beatific. "Of course!"

I wondered what had inspired her to be so forthcoming and outgoing. I asked.

She told me.