Another update! I'm trying to update as much as I can since I'm sitting on so much material and this is such a long story. I was thinking about posting this on Archive of Our Own, too. Does anyone use that? I use it for other fandoms (I write anime fic, too) and I really like the format. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please review.
17
You Are My Sunshine
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He was as stiff as a board beside me. Since we had arrived home, he had been almost catatonic, staring off into space as if the nothingness before him would provide him with answers. With his brother's death certificate in hand, I watched him, waiting for him to say something—anything—to put my mind at ease. Instead, he remained silent with a dead expression.
"Tonight … was rough," he mused to himself with eyes that were still completely void.
Not knowing what words could possibly ease his mind, I bent forward and kissed his shoulder, hoping the feel of my lips would relieve some of his pain. Charlie shifted in my lap while he remained sound asleep, exhausted from his exciting night. My gaze moved back to Edward, finding him gazing down at the little boy in my lap as if Charlie was going somewhere.
His emotive eyes moved me; his face was open, revealing his raw pain. Reaching out, I cupped his cheek with one hand, smiling at the tickle of his stubble as I reached out with my other hand to take his hand in mine. Resting our joined hands on my lap near Charlie, I waited for him to respond—I waited for him to give me anything. I held my breath, and when he finally met my gaze, the look in his eyes left me spinning. In this moment, despite the chaos surrounding us, I knew everything would be all right. Maybe our skies would always be gray, but with him, I could still soak up the sunlight.
While his eyes bore into mine, his shoulders relaxed, and his tense expression faded into one of gratefulness. Romantic chemistry sparked between us like electricity. The energy brought us closer, and I felt tethered to him, like there was a pull between our two hearts. I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his; I reveled in their salty taste. I melted against the feel of his soft mouth. As I kissed him, I realized I never felt close enough. I wanted him to thrust into me until he poured his emotion—and everything else—into my body; I wanted to feel every single inch of him. I wanted him to drink me up like a man dying of thirst. I moaned against the pillows of his lips, opening my mouth just enough to allow his tongue entrance.
I became delirious, only pulling away when I needed air. With a shaky breath, I let go of his hand and smoothed my hair, needing to calm down before I took things further than we were ready to go tonight. My eyes darted to the movement of his hands as they rested on top of his lap in an attempt to hide his prominent erection. I stifled a gasp, unable to tear my eyes away. It's so … so … Jesus H. Christ. How can Edward lack self-confidence with that between his legs?
Thankfully, Charlie chose this moment to awaken from his slumber, giving me an escape from my thoughts. The blush, however, did not leave my cheeks, and my pulse didn't calm. Charlie yawned, stretched, and then gazed at me with a look that was so questionable it made me feel like all of my dirty thoughts were being displayed on my face. His bottom lip quivered before he began to cry. He turned toward his uncle and reached out his hands, begging for Edward to take him. Edward smiled slightly, although his eyes were still slightly pensive, and took his nephew, bringing Charlie to rest against his shoulder.
God, he's good with him. Edward's the picture of the perfect unconventional daddy. Edward must have felt my stare because his eyes popped up to meet mine before he broke into a slight smile. He looks so young like this. So carefree. God, how could anyone hurt him? How could his parents stab him in the back? I just want to freaking scream at them! Anger filled my chest. I wanted to march back into that party and give his parents hell. I wanted to scream at them until they understood the irrevocable harm they had done. They chipped away at his trust—his good nature.
"He loves you so much," I mused as I tried to dissipate my anger. Charlie and Edward were what mattered now. Everything else was just background noise.
"He said 'da' today," Edward bragged to me.
"Aw," I cooed, knowing how that single sound must have felt. "He must've been trying to say daddy! That's wonderful!"
Edward was not his biological father, but he loved Charlie as if he were his own; the bond between them transcended that of uncle and nephew. It was more than that—so much more than that. It was them against the world. They were what was left of Seth and his wife; they were their legacy. Edward should be referred to as his father—it's what he was: a protector, a provider, and a mentor. He was everything a father should be and more. Everything his own father wasn't.
"I had been saying 'dad' around him all day today before he finally said it. I just couldn't help myself. It slipped out while I was giving him a bath, and it just sounded right to me. Fuck, it felt right to me."
I smiled at him, unable to believe how flustered he seemed.
"Well, you are his dad, Edward. You provide for him, you're his mentor, and you love him more than anything. He's your world. That's what a dad is, and I think you make a sensational one."
I barely got the last word out before he crashed his lips against mine. He poured every ounce of himself into the kiss, and I returned the passion as I poured myself into him, too. Physically, I expressed every word I was too afraid to speak out loud. With my lips, I told him I desired him now and forever; I told him I wished he could have always been here.
Charlie's fussiness eventually pulled us apart. The moment I broke away from Edward, Charlie reached up his small, chubby hand to tug on Edward's cheek, giving him a needy look. He seemed almost jealous of the attention I had gotten, so used to receiving every ounce of his uncle's attention. Edward laughed before he granted Charlie his wish, bending forward to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Charlie giggled at the affection before he rested his head happily on his uncle's shoulder.
"See, Edward. He knows you're his daddy," I mused, wanting to call Edward "daddy" far more often.
He was silent for a moment before he responded. "I thought I'd insult my brother's memory in some way if I called myself that."
I considered his words, deflating at the sound of pain in his voice. "Edward, I didn't get to know your brother, but I'm sure he gave you custody of his son so you could be a father to him. He obviously knew you two would be perfect for each other. I'm sure if Seth could see you right now, he'd be smiling down at you. He's got to be proud of you. I know I am."
His dark eyes misted before they darted away, hiding his face from me. He was thinking of Seth. I couldn't read his mind, but judging by his facial expressions, it was obvious. I wished I could have known his brother. I wished I could have known the man Edward had grown up with—the man he loved so deeply. The bond between them was long lasting. Death couldn't break it. In my heart, I knew if his brother were here now, he would have been content in this moment; his son had a father—someone whose love was limitless and unconditional.
As Edward sat in silence for a long while, I envisioned Seth. My imagination ran wild with fictitious scenarios from their childhood, picturing two little boys who were so alike they could have been a single person. The images were clear in my mind as if they were scenes from a movie. I wish I could have spoken to him. I wish I could have met him once before he passed away.
With a fabricated history of them in my head, I turned my attention back to Edward.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" I asked as I reached out to run my fingers along the muscles of his arm, wanting to provide him with whatever comfort I could.
He smiled, although his eyes were still sad. "I was thinking about getting another tattoo. One in memory of Seth."
"That's a great idea, Edward."
"I just want to have some closure. I never got any." He paused and looked at me for a moment, judging my expression before he continued. "I wasn't there when he died. They couldn't reach me before his surgery, but it's not like I would've made it back here even if they had. I would've done my best to rush back here though. If it only meant I could see Seth one last time … alive. Just to watch him breath before they whisked him off to surgery. I would've at least gotten to hold his hand." Tears filled his eyes as he swallowed the obvious lump in his throat. "I would've wanted to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be okay. He was in surgery by the time my parents got to the hospital. He didn't get to see any of his family, Bella." By my side, he grew hysterical. "He didn't get to see our parents before he died. He didn't get to say goodbye to his son."
Tears poured from his eyes as all of his emotions came bubbling to the surface. He could no longer hide this part of himself. Whatever happened tonight had ripped him open, tearing at all the raw wounds. I had never seen him like this; never had he allowed himself to become so exposed. Tears filled my eyes and trailed down my flushed cheeks. I was torn apart, too. As he dealt with his wounds, I dealt with mine.
"Edward …" I began, wishing I could find the right words. Reaching out, I grasped his hand, holding it so tightly it caused my knuckles to ache.
"I should've stayed in Evergreen," he mused as his tears continued to fall, transforming him into the image of a dark, fallen angel. "I would've stayed and been miserable if it meant I would've been able to say goodbye to him. Fuck, I couldn't even look at him in his casket at the funeral. I watched everyone else get up and pay their respects, but I couldn't leave my seat. And Kate … God, she died in that fucking car. I imagine Seth held her hand and told her to hang on … because that's just the type of guy he was. He would've encouraged her to keep going, even when he must've seen the light leaving her eyes. God, Bella. I don't know what the fuck I would do if that were you."
And with that, he buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed against the fabric of my cardigan. His tears ran along the exposed flesh of my shoulder, causing his warm, labored breaths to tickle. Tears continued to stream from my own eyes. Together, we fell apart, and together, we rebuilt ourselves.
"Do you know what tattoo you want, Edward?" I asked as we both relaxed in each other's embrace.
"Some sort of angel," he weakly murmured against my neck.
Slowly, he raised his head and wrapped his arms around his sleeping nephew.
"That's wonderful, Edward," I encouraged. "What a wonderful way to honor your brother."
He smiled as his bloodshot eyes searched mine. With so many built-up emotions expelled from our bodies, a feeling of peace filled the room.
I had spent the night. He'd held me all night long until I had finally drifted to sleep in his arms. In my dreams, I had seen two little boys playing. But these hadn't been the little boys I'd made up in my mind to represent Edward and Seth. This had been Charlie and a child of my own.
With a few inspirational photographs in hand, Edward sat in the waiting room with us at his side. Charlie took in the scene around him with wide, curious eyes. He was particularly captivated by Edward's artist's current client, who was moaning for mercy in the tattoo chair.
As I watched the woman, wondering how a person with so much ink could handle a single tattoo so badly, I contemplated getting another tattoo. With my love for art and literature, I had a long list of ink I dreamt of getting. When I was younger, I had avoided getting inked anywhere visible since I hadn't known the direction my life would take. Hence, the small peach tattoo on my ass. Now, however, I knew I worked in an industry that was pretty accepting of body ink and piercings. Not that I could ever see myself covered with them, of course. A plethora of ink just wasn't my personal style; however, one or two more tattoos seemed perfect. I bet Edward would find them attractive, too. I wanted something meaningful—something relevant to the woman I was today.
"Maybe I should get a tattoo," I mused as my eyes scanned the framed art on the walls.
He smiled at this, tearing his eyes away from the hysterical woman in the chair to glance at me. "Do you have any?" he asked as his eyes scanned my body.
I warmed under his gaze as I imagined what he could be thinking as he scrutinized me. "I do," I said coyly. "But I'm not telling you where. That's a secret."
"It is?" he teased me. "I'm sure I'll see it eventually."
He gave me a roguish grin, which caused my nipples to pucker and my skin to flush.
"Maybe you will," I teased back, enjoying the flirtation.
He smirked, and his cheeks flushed as he looked at me. I wondered what his reaction would be to my very small tattoo. I was young when I had gotten it and had thought the placement had been cute. Now, I honestly couldn't believe I had gotten a tattoo on my butt. I want Edward to bite it before he kisses my pussy. I flushed as the imagery made my core tingle.
"What tattoo would you get, if you were going to get one today?" Edward asked, pulling me away from my overactive and inappropriate imagination.
I shrugged, too flustered to really think. "I've always wanted a literary quote inked on my skin."
Edward smiled, pleased with my answer. "Do you know which quote you'd get?"
"Well, I always liked this one quote from The Kite Runner: 'For you, a thousand times over,' " I mused as I remembered the special place that book held in my heart. It was one of the first books I truly fell in love with it in school. "I always thought that quote was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard."
"That is beautiful," he agreed.
The quote summed up how I felt about a great deal of people in my life. I would do anything for the people I loved. Now, Edward and Charlie had become part of that group. For both of them, I would do anything.
Edward's artist finished up on his client and moved outside for a quick smoke break before it was Edward's turn. I watched Edward as he hurriedly filled out the appropriate paperwork. His brows were knitted together, and his body was tense, as if it were awaiting a significant release. Getting inked seemed Katehartic to him—stimulating him and providing him with a release usually found in sex. My body flushed at the thought, and suddenly, I wanted to share this experience with him even more.
The receptionist moved toward us, indicating it was time.
"Are you all right, Edward?" I asked as we rose to meet the woman.
Edward seemed coiled up inside of himself, as if all his emotions were waiting to be surfaced.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded dismissively.
His emotions seemed violent, but I didn't comment. This was an emotional day for many reasons. I couldn't begin to imagine what he was feeling.
"Just hold my hand, okay?" he said with a small smile.
I smiled in response and nodded, following him back to his artist's station as I bounced Charlie in my arms. While the artist finished up his work on the stencil, Edward took off his shirt to expose his back, which was completely free of ink. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was so beautiful—so perfectly imperfect. He turned around to face me as I stood right next to the mirror at this station, and I nearly gasped at the sight of his ink and piercings. His nipples were pierced, and every bit of his torso and arms were inked. He may not have been the type of man I would usually swoon over, but staring at him now, I found he was everything I ever wanted. My eyes danced around his torso before they fell to his happy trail. I want to run my lips across the hair. I want to make him very, very happy. I flushed, adverting my gaze as he lay down on the tattoo chair, situating himself on his stomach before he rested his head on his forearms.
Pulling my gaze away from Edward, I moved to glance at the design the artist was perfecting: an intricate fallen angel, kneeling with his head bent in prayer. The wings of the design were what captivated me most; they were powerful yet fragmented and torn. The design reminded me of the man who was getting it. I smiled, knowing it would look perfect once it reached completion.
The artist finished up before showing Edward the design. Edward smiled and approved it before the artist transferred the design onto his skin. Edward stood up, allowing me another glimpse of the perfection of his chest and abdominal muscles as he moved to check the design's placement in the mirror. The look on his face as he viewed it momentarily took my breath away. For the first time since his mother's party, he looked truly and incandescently happy. Tears filled his eyes as remembrance colored his features. Seeing him momentarily lost in the past made me happy. In our memories, no one is ever lost.
With misty eyes, he laid back down on the chair and smiled at the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun. I took a seat with Charlie comfortably in my arms and observed the process. I watched the blood as it rose to the surface of his skin, appearing like little beads against the flesh of his back before the artist wiped it away, continuing the outline of the most beautiful design I had ever seen. Edward didn't flinch in the process. Instead, he seemed to revel in the sting from the needle.
Charlie was fascinated with the process, too. He didn't seem to like the idea of a man using a machine to draw on his daddy's back. His curious eyes took in the scene, trying to decipher whether or not his daddy was okay. Confused, his eyes shot to my face as he tried to gauge my reaction. He relaxed a little as he took in my calm demeanor. Eventually, he had either grown bored or had become too tired from all the excitement, nodding off to sleep in my embrace. Just as Charlie was fast asleep, completely dead to the world, Edward's artist rose from his chair to take another quick smoke break.
"How are you feeling?" I asked Edward as his artist grabbed a pack of smokes and walked toward the back door.
He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, before he answered. "I feel alive. So very fucking alive."
"I'm glad."
He looked so happy. I prayed he could always look this way—feel this way. I prayed this was a turning point in his life. This tattoo could be a step in his journey of acceptance.
"I know this sounds fucking dumb, but I feel like he's here right now. He would probably tease me for getting a tattoo in his honor. I can imagine him dumbly saying, 'Edward, do you really need another bit of ink.' " Edward paused and laughed at the idea. I laughed, too. I wondered if his impression was as spot on as it seemed. "God, I miss him," he mused, resting his head back down on the tops of his forearms.
"I've never met him, but I miss him, too," I muttered.
"He would have liked you. He would probably warn me not to screw things up since you're so far out of my league."
I giggled at the idea. "I'm not out of your league, Edward. If anything, you're out of mine."
The artist returned and went back to work, finishing up the gorgeous outline. The energy in the room grew somber as Edward became completely silent. He was basking in the moment, and I held Charlie close while watching him. I felt like I was witnessing something private, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Although Seth wasn't here, it felt like Edward was having a private moment with his brother. I closed my eyes for a moment and allowed my mind to drift. I saw the pair of them. I saw them as children, teenagers, before finally, adults. I imagined scenarios and made up conversations. I imagined them as a mismatched pair of friends who understood one another better than anyone else. I hoped, one day, Edward would reveal more about Seth. Until then, I would rely on the workings of my imagination.
The sound of silence snapped me back to reality. It seemed the first session was finished. My eyes moved over the outline before they misted with tears. It was perfect. So perfect, I wanted to sob. Edward is going to be so happy. He deserves this. He deserves all of the happiness in the world.
Edward slid off the leather chair and moved to check out the progress in the mirror. His hand shot up to cover his mouth, and he laughed into his palm as he stared at the reflection in shock. He loves it.
"Fuck, man. It's perfect. Thank you. Jesus, dude, I wish I had found you earlier."
"No problem," the artist responded as he cleaned up his station. "Two more sessions should finish it up." He paused his work to gaze up at Edward, quietly judging his expression. "Was there a special meaning behind the piece?"
The way he posed the question suggested he knew the answer. I was sure he had done many memorial tattoos in the past. I looked to Edward, waiting for his reaction.
"It's for my older brother," he said as he looked at the piece in the mirror again. "Seth. It's in memory of my brother, Seth."
The way he said his brother's name left me with chills. I watched him put his shirt back on with tears swimming in my eyes. It took all of my effort to keep myself composed.
After making a future appointment, we left the tattoo shop. The difference in Edward was already like night and day. It seemed like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He wasn't the same man he was this morning or had been since I had met him.
"Thanks for coming with me, Bella. You don't know how much it means to me."
"It was nothing," I said quietly, hoping Charlie would remain asleep in my arms. "I loved being there to comfort you. I'm happy you wanted me to be a part of that experience."
"I want you to be a part of everything," he said as he came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Edward—" I began to say before he cut me off.
"Bella, I feel almost silly asking you this at this point because I feel like our relationship is so meaningful already. You've quickly become my world and Charlie's world, as well. I want you and I want to keep you," he gracelessly rambled.
I smiled. The anxiousness surrounding him was so endearing. Why was he nervous? How could I possibly refuse him?
"What are you saying?" I asked somewhat teasingly.
I wanted to hear him say the words. I wanted to hear his feelings for me aloud.
"Will you be my girlfriend?" he rushed out.
A smile lit up my face, causing my cheeks to ache. God, I love this man. I love the way he makes me smile. I love the way he loves me.
"Officially," he added with a smirk.
I giggled for a moment, enjoying the happy energy surrounding us. For once, I felt like I was standing in the light. I felt like the darkness had disappeared, and my life had become one long, sunny day.
"Of course, Edward Cullen. I'd love to be your girlfriend."
I leaned forward and kissed him, long and deep.
"Even though you were too stupid to ask me sooner," I teased him as soon as I broke away. "But, all is forgiven."
"I should've asked you the moment I saw you."
"You were interested in me way back then?" I questioned in disbelief.
I had suspected, but I had never been sure.
"At first, I was captivated by your beauty, but as soon as you spoke, I became captivated by the rest of you, as well."
"I was drawn to you instantly, too," I admitted, happy we were finally speaking so freely. "However, it was when I saw you interact with Charlie that I knew you were it for me."
His response was a kiss. He crashed his lips against mine, expressing everything he was still too fearful to verbalize. Time stilled as I became consumed by him. The words would come eventually. We had the future ahead of us, and I knew, one day, he would tell me everything. One day, I would tell him everything, too. But one day wasn't here yet.
So, I would bask in today.
