A/N: Hey, hope you're all staying safe and not going stir crazy in isolation. No work for me for the foreseeable future, so I'll probably be writing more. Here's hoping. Wishing everyone good health and lots of toilet paper fortune.
Thanks Kim. And Melinda, too *smooch*
Black Swan
Chapter 19
"Your eyes are kinda..." Edward leans in closer to peer at them, so close that I'm forced to wedge my palm into his chest to keep him at a distance, "orange..." He glances at me thoughtfully, and I shrug nonchalantly. "Are you hungry?"
"They darken when I'm hungry, they don't lighten," I remind him.
"Then...why?" He's confused.
"I've been feeding on animals," I admit simply.
"...Why?" he echoes after a pause, his brow knotting further as if he's troubled by it.
"I was worried if I fed on humans, I'd feed on you and kill you." I shrug a second time and watch as a smile ghosts across his lips. "Why is that funny?" I narrow my eyes.
He straightens his back and shakes his head slightly. "It's not."
"Whatever the case, now that you're here, I realize that theory was flawed. I've been limiting myself for nothing."
He gauges me for a moment, his eyes wide.
"Good God, what now?" I demand impatiently.
"You don't want me to die?" he puts to me as if he's genuinely curious, and I huff.
"Even if I did, it seems to be an impossibility," I say irritably. "It changes nothing, though, so don't push your luck!"
"You're never going to forgive me, are you?" It's not a question, and I watch as his shoulders sag and his breath gushes past his lips.
"I told you, you've done nothing to me to forgive," I point out, keeping my voice tactful.
"Bella..." His tone turns pleading.
"Edward," I echo him, and he smiles, fleetingly.
"Will you let me explain?" his brows raise with hope, and I groan loudly.
"Jesus, you're like a puppy with a broken leg," I complain.
"...What?"
"It's pitiful."
"...I don't..."
"I really don't want to hear it. Though, thanks to Rose, I already know half," I mutter, breaking his gaze.
"...What...did she tell you?" His expression becomes pained.
"How you laughed," I state as a matter-of-fact, as my gaze return to his squarely.
He sighs heavily again. "Yeah, I did. I was such an asshole..."
"Among other things."
"Bella..."
"You speak my name more times than it's absolutely necessary. Why?" I demand, becoming impatient with him. Though, why I'm impatient, I can't quite reconcile.
"I'm sorry?"
"Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella..." I mock him with an exasperated huff.
"...I didn't...realize," he mumbles, looking pitiful again. "Sorry."
"Stop apologizing, too. It's irritating me."
"So...what's going...to happen?" he asks, clearly fearful of the answer, but he asks nonetheless.
"I live my life, you live yours," I reply simply when it's everything but simple.
"Bella..."
I only sigh and raise a pointed brow.
"Well, how do you expect me to address you?" he snaps, suddenly frustrated.
"How do you expect me to react to you not only being chummy with your rapist of a blood relative, but the context to which you mentioned me? Hm?" I counter, unmoved by his outburst.
He opens and closes his mouth in silence, before abandoning whatever was on his mind behind a heavy breath. "I don't know. You won't let me explain," he murmurs, his eyes falling to his hands.
"Not yet," I inform him.
"When?" he looks up and asks.
"Not yet," I repeat myself firmly.
He sighs sharply, but reins his emotions back in, sucking in his cheeks, and I wish I could say it didn't have any affect me. "Bella..."
"Edward," I imitate him again.
And again, he smiles and scoffs past it, but I realize he's serious. "If I move in, are you really going to leave?"
"Well, how else are you going to get over this attachment to me?" I answer, irritated by his question.
"I don't want to get over it," he asserts stubbornly. "I...I want to be with you."
"You have absolutely no understanding of what you're speaking," I state, folding my arms across my chest and severing his gaze to stare out into the continuing storm.
"I do!" he insists. "Okay...maybe I don't. It's just... All I know is, I can't fucking live without you!" I turn to him in time to see him drag his fingers through his hair in a fit of frustration.
"You cannot even tell me why you want to be with me," I remind him, poking him very deliberately in his chest.
"Because it doesn't make sense to me!" he suddenly hollers. "None of this...makes sense." His eyes well with tears and jerking his head away from me he hastily wipes them dry.
"Do you want a tissue?" I ask, but my sudden concern for him strangles from my throat sounding wholly like sarcasm.
He half laughs caustically. "Jesus, you're a bitch..."
"I've been called worse." I shrug an impassive shoulder even as I frown to myself.
"Alice said it's all a cover." He turns to me, his jaw set in some kind of determination.
"You really want to go over that again?" I arch a brow.
"Why are you like this to me?" he puts to me, sounding genuinely hurt.
"Because to allow you to get even more invested in me is cruel, and I'm not entirely heartless," I explain, fighting to keep my voice even. He's frustrating me as much as he's confounding me.
"So, you really don't love me?" He's crestfallen and getting to my feet, I groan loudly.
"Love..." I echo bitterly. "What does it even mean?—tell me, Mr. I-can't-live-without-you? What does it mean?" My voice raises this time, as he subtly cowers away from me.
"I don't know. All I know is that...you're under my skin. You've infected me, and...I want to see what's beneath that hard exterior of yours."
"Nothing's beneath it," I replied stoically. "That hard exterior is me."
He shakes his head, unconvinced. "I don't believe that."
"You don't believe a lot of things..." I roll my eyes and sit down beside him on my chaise feeling suddenly weary. I'm beginning to understand how Carlisle often feels.
"Bella..." He cautiously takes my hand; I allow him to. "Just...please hear me out. Please. I can't stand you thinking that about me."
"Not tonight," I eventually answer after a long pause of staring into his defeated eyes. He's truly heartbroken and I can't find reason in it. "Where are your folks?" I change the subject.
"Cali. They went to my cousin's funeral." He breaks into an oblique smile. "His body washed up under the Golden Gate Bridge last week."
"Hmm... What a shame..." I play along.
"He didn't have a scratch on him, just a broken neck," he informs me of what I already know. "I thought he'd be torn apart."
"I put him back together again," I allude, winking, and he laughs. It's ironic, but laugh he still does.
"Jesus, this is fucked up."
"You're lucky. It could have been you." I walk my fingers up his chest before placing my index finger to the indent between his collar bones.
"It wasn't the first time he had done it, you know..." he mumbles, his gaze falling to inspect Jasper's grey track pants and hoodie he's wearing. Jasper's only fractionally taller and it fits him quite well.
"Oh?"
"Yeah... After what happened, I didn't see him again, but I saw it in his mind."
"And yet, you still went along with it," I point out.
He frowns, his focus shifting to his hands that he's clenching and unclenching in his lap. "I know. I was an asshole."
"And now you're not," I surmise. "Is that what you want me to believe? Hm?" I question him.
"I'm not...the same." He shakes his head to himself, his forehead creasing deeper. "I promise you, Bella. I'm not."
"If you were, I would have killed you by now," I say offhandedly, and his head immediately snaps up
"So...you believe me?"
"I can spot one of those teenagers a thousand miles away, and despite all appearances, I quickly realized you weren't one of them."
He gazes at me for a moment as if gauging the sincerity of my words. "Is that why you threatened to kill me that first day? Because you thought..."
"I caught you with your pants down practically in public. I wasn't sure whether you were brazen or just straight up arrogant, but yes, I definitely thought you were," I admit, raising a very pointed brow at him in reminder.
A raging blush overruns his face, and he bows his head. I can practically taste the scent of his blood in the air between us. "Yeah...not my finest hour."
"One question," I decide, and turning his head back to me, his eyebrows pull up in question. "Were you a virgin? That night?"
He nods and releases his breath heavily again. "Yeah. Does that make a difference?"
I half-bow my head to the affirmative and turn my attention to the rain outside—if only for an excuse to sever those culpable eyes of his. "It does. When are your parents returning?"
He pauses for a moment. "I'm not sure."
"When did they leave?"
"Yesterday."
"You can stay here until they return," I conclude, pulling myself to my feet and walking over to stare out my east-facing window. "I'll drive you back to your place to get some clothes."
"O-okay," he stammers, and I can hear the smile in his voice without needing to see it.
I sigh to myself and drop my head into my outstretched palm. I seem to do that a lot in his presence. "Good God..."
. . .
"Don't say anything," I demand the moment Esme walks through the front door, beaming smile intact. "I want to test the waters with him in the house with me," I hastily explain, knowing it sounds like a paltry excuse.
"I'm not going to say anything—just that I'm so happy." She places both hands to my cheeks and gently squeezes. "And I'm proud of you."
"I'm not going to say anything?" I quote her in emphasis.
She waves her hand, dismissing me as her smile broadens exponentially. "Where is he staying?"
"The spare room," I speak with finality in my tone. Though, I don't mention that he won't be sleeping at all given the blood I fed him.
"Okay." She makes an almost soft squealing sound, and expelling my breath in exasperation, I turn my back on her.
"You've made the right decision, Bella," is all Carlisle says with a warm smile, laying his palm momentarily to my shoulder as he passes me.
Right on cue, my mud-splattered and drenched brothers and sisters come through the back door, all looking suspiciously pleased with themselves.
"I thought you said I was shielding him," I remind Alice in accusation.
"You can't stretch your shield that far." She winks, and I scoff and turn to make my way toward the stairs. "Stay away from him, you little freak."
"Pinkie swear." She holds up her little finger and giggles. "And did you honestly think Jaz and I were virgins?" She snorts from behind me and breaks into laughter. "That's only you, B."
"Wait, you're a virgin?" Edward asks surprised when I close the door behind the two of us.
"A vampire virgin, yes," I concede.
"What does that mean?—you haven't had sex with another vampire?"
"Score one for captain obvious." I flop down on my chaise and drape an arm over my eyes.
"Ah, yeah, I remember you telling me..." he mumbles. "Bella?" he asks apprehensively this time, sitting beside me again.
"Edward?"
"What does...all this mean?"
"I'm testing...my boundaries. I want to know if I really can tolerate living with you," I explain. "So, don't get ahead of yourself."
"Will it go back to the way it was?" He looks entirely too hopeful again, and with a short sigh, I sit myself up.
"At the end of the week, I'll hear you out. Only then will I be able to give you a definitive answer, but no pestering me until then—got it?"
"Got it," he echoes, breaking into a completely over the top, charming smile.
I snort cynically. "That won't work on me, bucko—remember?"
"What won't work?"
"In case you've forgotten, I'm surrounded by beautiful faces on a daily basis. Yours has absolutely no effect on me."
"What...did you think I was doing?" His forehead knots, and I can't be certain whether he's playing me again or whether he's genuinely confused.
"Charming me."
"I was only smiling." He quirks a skeptical brow.
"Sure thing, kiddo," I say dryly, pulling myself to my feet on the pretense of inspecting my collection of books; the reality is far different. For some unnatural cause, I'm struggling to hold his gaze.
"Kiddo," he echoes from behind me, sounding less than impressed.
"You can go and hang out with Emmett if you like," I suggest over my shoulder, and naturally, right as those words pass my lips, my brother himself barges into my room.
"Ed, man, PlayStation?" he asks, holding up one of his war games in emphasis.
Edward immediately jumps to his feet more than eager. "Sure! Erm...Bella?" He turns to gauge me as if he were a five-year-old asking for more cookies.
"Erm...Edward?" I imitate him again, quickly elaborating when he flashes me that clueless expression. "You don't have to ask my permission—I'm not your mother," I say in exasperation as Emmett yanks him from the room.
I roll my eyes and return to my chaise, and not five minutes later, Rose fills his absence.
"So, what does this mean?" she asks, sitting beside me and draping her arm around my shoulders?"
I nudge her teasingly, but I've missed the bitch. "You know, giving someone the silent treatment until you get your way is a sign of narcissism."
She blatantly smirks. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Not really. It had more to do with my little red canary arriving on the doorstep like a drowned kitten."
She scoffs back her laughter. "Alice saw it all."
"No kidding," I say dryly.
"So, what's it all mean?" she continues to pry.
"He asked me the exact same thing," I say wryly.
"Did you answer him?" Her brows raise high, and she's just as curious to hear the answer as he was.
"I'm still...testing...myself," I mumble, breaking her gaze.
"For what reason this time?" She deliberately sighs, pushing home her point in her usual dramatic fashion.
"Rose," I complain. "This is huge for me, okay? Just don't...push me."
She leans back and raises her hands, her grin broadening. "So long as you're not leaving, I'll give you all the time you need to realize you're in love with Mr. Masen."
"You are really annoying, you know that?" I say with entirely too much affection behind my voice.
"I know. Just stop being a bitch to him, okay?" She pauses momentarily to push my still-damp hair behind my ears. "That boy is nursing some serious feelings for you."
"I realize that. He's not shy about confessing it," I say, but my sarcasm falls short and comes out as jaded. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him? He's..." With a groan, I let it go. I can't even begin to make sense of it.
"Has he explained what happened?" Her tone lowers and turns serious.
"No," I reply, half shaking my head.
"Hear him out, Bella, okay?" There's a slight edge of authority in her tone.
"I intend to, but...not just yet."
"Why? What are you devising this time?" she asks cynically.
"I...want to see if what I feel will overrule the worst about him. If, at the end of the day, it won't matter," I explain. Though, I'm honestly not certain of what I'm thinking. Or feeling.
"Huh. That's actually not a bad idea," she acknowledges, sounding impressed. "Acceptance is the first step."
"I admit, I feel something. I'm just not sure what," I murmur, as my thoughts continue to drift.
"How did you feel when you saw him on the doorstep looking like a drowned kitten?" She gauges me, her voice deliberately tentative.
"I was angry at first that he'd...worry me like that, and then...he was just so pitiful. I kind of wanted to scoop him up in my arms," I admit, realizing how it sounds the moment I speak it, and how Rose will react.
As expected, she not so subtly clears her throat.
"Stop it," I forewarn her, turning to her in time to see the smile break broadly across her face.
"You've been living off anger and revenge for sixty-eight years that you know nothing else. Love came knocking on your door and you didn't even recognize it. You still don't," she explains delicately, but with a discernible empathy behind her words. Rose gets it, after all.
"I don't love him, Rose," I insist without an ounce of conviction. "I'm...curious about him." But that's not quite right, either, and deciding I really don't want to delve into it further, I shake it from my thoughts.
"Hmm...I give you a month," she teases me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and nudging me again.
I break into an inevitable smile and prod her back.
"So, you going vegan now?" she asks lightly, and when I turn to stare at her aghast, I realize her question wasn't serious.
"I have narrowed my diet to evil-doers and that's all the concessions I'm making!"
"Good, because we need to go out for drinks again. Soon!" She winks in emphasis.
"We'll go this weekend," I promise her, my mouth watering at the mere idea of it. It's been too long. Though, I'd much rather drink from a drunk Edward.
"Maybe your little red canary can tag along," she suggests as if reading my thoughts.
I laugh dryly. "Do you realize what the warden would do to me?"
"Are you kidding? She's falling over herself with how proud of you she is at the moment." She rolls her eyes. "He can be our lookout." She snickers, and breaking into a conceding smile, I shake my head.
"Careful, I'll tell Mommy Dearest you're corrupting me."
. . .
The following day is Friday, and at six am sharp, Esme walks in my room, her arms folded as an all-knowing, slightly reproachful smile pulls on her lips.
"What now?" I ask, wanting to groan out loud. It's always something with my mother, after all.
"Edward's been up all night with Emmett and he's not the least bit tired," she informs me, arching a very emphatic brow.
"Yes, I gave him my blood," I admit with an impatient sigh, "but he was about to vomit all over my floor."
"Mm-hmm." She purses her lips, even as the smile continues to ghost over them, before she sits beside me. "Sweetheart," she begins tactfully, her tone softening, "I want to apologize."
I immediately sit up, more than a little surprised. "Why...?"
"I have been treating you like a child—even though it was only making you more rebellious. I should have shown more empathy for your situation." She's genuinely remorseful, and it's completely throwing me.
"You don't have to apologize, Mom. I know..." But she doesn't allow me to finish.
"Sweetheart, you can be so much more than what you're allowing yourself to be. You are so much more than a heartless killer. Contrary to what you believe, you do have a soul. A soul that Edward's soul sings to."
My mouth falls open in silence, and I'm not sure I have words to respond with. The cynical side of me wants to completely dismiss her, but I don't. The truth is, I want to hear more.
"It's fine." She nods her head in acknowledgment as if she can sense my conflict, before placing her palm to the side of my face; her thumb gently stroking my cheekbone. "But, Bella, you need to find peace and acceptance with your human death, or you'll forever stagnate in anger and resentment, unable to move forward and find true happiness."
"How...do I do that?" I murmur, my eyes breaking from hers to conceal my shame. This is what my mother brings out in me, whether it's her intention or not.
"I think you need to tell Edward what happened to you," she replies with some delicacy. "Let him see your soul. Open yourself to him. He's your mate, Bella—whether you want to believe it or not. He's your mate the same way your father is mine, Jasper is Alice's, and Emmett is Rose's. He's your mate," she reiterates, her voice softly wavering as her eyes slowly well with tears, "and I want you to know the happiness that only comes when you're mated. I want that for you."
I shake my head, but in what context, I'm uncertain. She's completely overwhelming me, and I have no idea where to even begin. "He-he's a boy, Esme."
"A boy who witnessed death and was changed by it," she whispers, her palm returning to my cheek.
"But...he played a part in a girl being killed—exactly like I was!" I point out, with more desperation in my tone than I intended.
"He was fourteen and caught up in something he should never have been involved in."
"He still knew right from wrong!" I declare, my voice rising.
She sighs patiently. "And that's why he confessed to his part in it and accepted his punishment. How many other fourteen-years-olds would do such a thing? And from what you've told Rose, he still bears the guilt of that moment every day he's alive."
I open my mouth to reply, but instead, a rueful scoff breaks from me. "Do you always eavesdrop on everything I say?"
A discreet smile twitches on her lips. "Of course. I'm your mother. Nevertheless," she clears her throat and gets back down to business, "he's paid his debt to society, and you have no right to judge him further. How many innocents have you killed?" She raises an explicit brow.
"That is not even remotely similar," I immediately counter.
"Isn't it?" she puts to me unconvinced. "There is no vampire requirement to be a ruthless killer without a conscience. Even Garrett only feeds from evildoers. You kill based on preconceived prejudices."
"I always ask them first—the worst thing they've ever done," I speak up defensively. "All of them have been cruel—all of them. The only real innocent I killed was the stutterer in Port Angeles."
She sighs again, and there's a slight edge of exasperation to it this time. "Sweetheart, being cruel is not a crime deserving of death. Especially to those who have barely had the chance to mature."
I expel a heavy breath and shake my head. "What do you expect me to say?" I mumble in defeat.
"Nothing," she says tenderly. "I just wanted you to know how I feel. Okay—school!" she claps her hands and changes course without missing a beat.
"Are you kidding me?" I straighten my back and stare at her.
"Not in the slightest. This is an important year for Edward, and as his...companion"—she can barely hold off her sarcasm—"you need to be there supporting him."
"He's a big boy, he doesn't need me to hold his hand," I point out flatly.
"After what you put him through the last several weeks, I believe he does. You have thirty minutes." And with that said, she turns and leaves my room just as abruptly.
"Hey!" Edward pops his head around the door a moment later as I'm massaging the exasperation from my brow. "Sorry..." he mumbles
I look up as he enters my room. "What for?"
"I kinda ignored you all night." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and glances away; it's another one of his mannerisms. He won't look at me when he feels he's somehow wronged me.
"And yet, I survived," I reply with a dry edge to my tone.
He flashes me an almost sarcastic grin and sits beside me. "You coming to school?"
"The warden made it a requirement," I say rolling my eyes.
"It's just us. Emmett and Rose aren't going," he confides as I lunge to my feet.
"What?" I burst, before yanking open my bedroom door. "Get in here, bitch!" I holler down the hall.
"I've done more than what was ever expected of me," Rose informs me, after opening her door ajar to peek at me. "Besides, Emmett and I are planning our wedding."
"Again?!" I scoff at the ad nauseam of her and her mate's penchant for getting married every decade.
"Yes, again," she mimics me, nonplussed. "If you play your cards right, I'll ask you to be my bridesmaid."
"Good God! Do you want to go out Saturday night?" I go with another angle, cocking my brow with hidden innuendo.
She scowls at me. "Bella, give it up. You have your little red canary to accompany you now. So stop bothering me with your tedium." She closes her door with a loud click, leaving me seething.
"Son of a bitch!" I fume, spinning back to Edward, my arms folded tersely across my chest.
He's looking up at me with apprehension intermingled with curiosity. "They're getting married? I thought they were already married."
"They get married every ten years!" I snort past how ridiculous I think it all is.
Edward smirks and muffles his obvious laughter through his nose. "That is pretty lame," he says in agreement. "But..." His smile fades.
"But...?"
"Don't you want to go with just me?"
I huff brashly. "If Fake ID pisses me off, will you be able to hold me back? Hm?"
"I promised to make sure he stopped bothering you. Remember?" he reminds me, smiling up at me as some kind of validation.
"I haven't forgotten. It's just...Rose keeps me grounded," I mumble, bowing my head.
He pulls himself hesitantly off my chaise and approaches me. "I can keep you grounded," he says seriously, reaching out to take my hand in his. "If you let me..."
"Okay, fine!" Rose concedes after barging dramatically in my room, and just as I impulsively yank my hand from Edward's. "I'm only doing this because of the...silent treatment," she whispers the latter harshly.
"You should feel bad, you wench," I tease her, secretly flooding with relief. I'm not ready to be alone with Edward quite just yet—even if it is at school. We're only on day one, and despite the faith my family appears to have in me I'm not even remotely as confident.
A/N: Okay, I promise promise that after this chapter she will ease up on him. Okay...well, after the next chapter most definitely. *throws shit and hides*
