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18+

LIV

I'm sitting on the couch, half watching a rerun of some trashy program and half doing homework, when there's a frantic rap at the front door.

My heart jumps in my throat.

My friends are at a party tonight.

I fling it open, registering a flicker of emerald before my back hits the wall of the hallway with a loud and painful thud. Warm lips crash to mine, hungry and wild, Edward's hard body pinning me in place.

Heat blazes through me, scorching me alive until I'm white hot. I kiss him back with equal intensity, goosebumps rising across my skin as my lower belly coils tight, warmth licking between my thighs. His cock presses into my stomach, thick and hard through his joggers.

His skin is so hot, his fingers burning me as they grip my hips, thumbs slipping under the material of my shirt like scalding metal, searing between my legs.

My hands go to his hair. It's sweaty, the strands damp under my fingertips. He presses closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and meeting mine, forceful and wet. Something metallic tangs, tingling against my tongue, and my heart drops suddenly, my hands shoving him away from me.

Edward staggers backwards and we stand there, either side of my open door.

The wind buffets through, biting and scratching at my cheeks and neck, flipping papers on the dresser so they fly across the room.

I barely notice because he's hurt.

His right eye is swollen and already bruised, a gash above it trickling blood down his face. His left cheek holds a similar cut, the skin surrounding it mottled pink.

There's a horrible wrenching sensation under my ribs, my blood running cold.

Edward's fists are clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling quickly, green eyes hauntingly sad, hauntingly empty as they stare at the wall above my head, unfocused and unseeing.

'What happened?' I can barely speak, my throat locked up tight, the key in his mouth, in hearing that he's okay.

Edward's body trembles, and I move, shutting the front door, cutting off the wind, cutting off all sound except our breathing, mine frantic, his ragged.

'Edward,' my voice is soft, tentative. I step in front of him, swallowing heavily.

His eyes squeeze shut, and I gently reach out for him. He lets out a slight choking sound as my arms wrap around his neck and then steps forwards and grips me for dear life, burying his head into my neck as he trembles.

'Are you okay?' I manage to say, my throat feeling scratchy, eyes burning.

Edward sobs and grips me tighter, his tears hot and wet against my throat.

I gently grab the back of his head with my hand, stroking through his damp hair as he cries.

He's covered in sweat, his body too warm. Did he run here?

'I'm s-sorry,' his voice cracks between sobs.

'Shh.' I soothe, 'it's okay. It's okay.'

His breaths are sharp and uneven, and I keep murmuring gently to him, my heart pounding.

I've never felt like this before. I feel helpless.

Worry and concern choke me, gripping my neck with one hand and my heart with the other, squeezing both until I can't breathe and my chest feels like it's caving in.

Edward pulls back from me, tears streaking down his beautiful cheeks, leaving his eyelashes an even deeper black. His voice is hoarse, 'Bella, please, I just need…' He kisses me, his lips hot and needy against mine. I kiss him back, but my mouth moves carefully, sweetly, slowly, my lips guiding his until his frantic kissing slows too, his body trembling. I pull back, cupping his face gently, careful not to touch where he's bruised.

'That's not what you need.' I tell him, my voice thick. Edward blinks and I feel something twist and clench in my chest at the expression on his face.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to.

I take his hand gently and walk upstairs with him, leading him into the bathroom.

I turn on the shower, something in my head spinning at the irony, that this was me a few days ago and now it's him.

Are we toxic for each other? Him and I?

I tentatively take his sweaty t-shirt in my hands. His eyes are unfocused, but he doesn't stop me as I lift it up and over his head.

My gasp is loud in the quiet room. Black and blue bloom across his ribs.

I open my mouth to ask what happened, but the words halt in my throat when he closes his eyes, his body shaking.

My hands gently tug his joggers down, along with his boxers. He's looked after me before, it's my turn to help him now. I take his hand to rest on my shoulder for balance as I guide one leg and then the other out of his clothes.

'Edward,' I murmur softly. He opens his eyes and blinks in confusion at me. I guide him to the shower, and he steps under the spray, placing his hands against the wall, his head bending as the water drenches him.

He takes a ragged breath. 'Bella, I…'

'You don't have to talk,' I soothe, 'only if you want to.'

Edward's silent for a while, the only sound the rushing hiss of water.

'Tanya's father,' he suddenly rasps, 'she told him I – she told him what she told everyone else. I thought we'd agreed to…but she…' he trails off. 'He's withdrawing his support, and his money, even his lawyer. He came over earlier to tell my dad and…' Edward's breathing is ragged. 'He was so angry at me. He…'

I gasp. 'He did this?' The words seem to strike Edward like an anvil, his body crumpling in on itself.

'He's never hit me before. I was…' his voice cracks, 'I didn't expect…and he just kept hitting and so I hit back… just once, just to make him stop.' He swallows again, bowing against the wall. 'I think I broke his nose, he was bleeding everywhere and then he told me to get the fuck out of his house. I…I looked at my mom, but she could barely stand she was so drunk, she wouldn't even look me in the eye when I asked her to say something, so… I just turned around and ran, didn't stop until I got here. I was gonna sneak in your window but, there was no car in the drive except yours.'

'I'm so sorry.' I choke out, 'this is all my fault.'

Edward turns around, green eyes meeting mine through falling water.

'No!' He says sternly, eyes narrowing at me.

He holds my gaze until I nod and then he sighs, his eyes closing.

He doesn't say anything else.

I don't think he can.

He leans back against the wall and slides down until he's sitting on the floor. I kneel in front of him, the water getting my knees wet.

I want to wash his hair for him, but I don't know how to ask.

I don't know the rules anymore.

My chest aches; he looks so vulnerable and lost.

I want to fix it. I need to fix it.

Fuck the rules.

'Come here.' I say tentatively.

Edward blinks at me.

I swallow and pick up the shampoo, making an awkward motion with my hand.

He stares at it for a second before he scoots across the floor, turning away from me and tilting his head back a little.

I pour the shampoo into my palm and let the water lick it a little, making it softer and more pliant as I rub my hands together, placing them in his hair.

He sighs as I rub my fingers against his scalp, shampoo foaming in big white bubbles.

There's a flicker of a memory in the corner of my eye. My mother's laugh and gentle hands brushing against my forehead, her voice humming sweetly as she lathered my hair. Warmth and light, love and happiness.

I find myself humming to him as I wash his hair, guiding his head back into the spray when he's ready to rinse, my hands gently combing through his hair as he stares up at me, bottomless pools of enchanting green. I bend my head to his to kiss his lips softly, my fingers brushing down his spine, then gently clean the cut on his face and cheek with the warm soapy water, making sure it's rinsed well.

When he's out the shower and warm and dry, when he's lying in my bed opposite me, sleepy green eyes staring into mine, his lips part, his voice a soft murmur.

'I love you.'