I do not own Twilight.
Hi…I had this chapter written out a multitude of ways because I wasn't sure how I wanted it to play out, but I think I have it as I want it now, so here you go :)
Also, sorry this isn't a NEW update, I had to fix something in this chapter. I had been bouncing between Leah and Kate for a while and realized that in the previous chapter I had gone with Leah, and in this one I went with Kate...oops.
The phone barely even rings once before he's answering with a breathless plea of my name on his tongue. I bite my lip, staring at my own reflection in the mirror on my vanity, remembering what it felt like when he would stare back, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Hi," I manage to say, though guilt and uncertainty is racking me by the second.
"You didn't text," is his reply. He sounds how I feel. It breaks my heart.
"I know," I sigh. "I'm sorry. I went to see Alice and I…I shouldn't have gone to see her—well, I should have because she talked me down—but I should have talked to you instead and I'm sorry I always run when I should just let you explain and…" I trail off because I'm rambling and I have nothing else to say other than, "I'm sorry, Edward."
He's silent for the span of five heartbeats and I choke back a sob.
His voice breaks through the hysteria. "Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I ran—I didn't even try—"
"I fucked you out of anger. It wasn't right. I shouldn't have touched you." The way his voice lowers on the word 'fucked' has a warmth spreading through me and I groan, desperate and frustrated at the same time.
"If I had said no, you would have stopped," I retort; snap, really because I'm mad that he's taking this all on him, that I've made him feel like this is all on him. "I wanted you," I whisper, "and you're allowed to be angry and jealous and whatever else you feel when you see someone I was with." I wince on my words and can practically hear him do the same. "But you don't need to be jealous because he didn't mean anything to me."
"You told me you loved him." His response is direct and I know he's thinking about the time Mike came with me to a visitation.
"He was convenient, Edward, no matter how horrible that sounds. I was trying to get over you."
He doesn't say anything for a while and then his voice is so low that I almost have to strain to hear.
"Could you have?"
I laugh. I can't help it. It's not a joyous sound, but a laugh nonetheless.
"Two years apart and I'm still desperately in love with you. Can that be my answer?" He makes a sound on the other line, somewhere between a scoff and a groan. "It wasn't fair of me to expect you to just…have no emotions, and I'm sorry."
"I love you," he answers and I smile to myself, closing my eyes to bask in his words because I've fucking missed hearing him say this to me. I've missed relishing in the honesty to his words, the undeniable truth of his words as they rush over me. He loves me, and I him.
"You're a good person, Edward. Don't let jail or your dad or your feelings or me make you think any differently. I love you more than anyone, more than life itself."
His silence is less foreboding this time and his eventual response makes me smile. "Fuck…I love you, beautiful girl."
I make a small sound of contentment in the back of my throat.
"It's late—you should sleep. Can I see you tomorrow?"
I grin. "I'll be here, waiting."
When I fall asleep, it's with a full heart, a warm soul, hopes of good dreams, but when I wake it's in the dark by a cool hand, a soft press against my mattress.
I blink, trying to wake, to make sense of what is happening but his lips are at my ear, his fingers against my cheek. "Sleep," he whispers to me and I move closer to him as he wraps my blankets around us tighter, losing myself in his embrace.
He's cold from the outside, though the night air is hardly chilled and I wrap my feet around his, wanting to warm him as much as I can. He sighs, shifts slightly and then my head falls right in that area I love, the space between his shoulder and throat that seems it was made to fit me perfectly. We fit perfectly.
"'member Leah?" I mumble around the sleep that's eating away at my brain. He shifts again, pulling me closer and hums an answer before shushing me, but I fight the exhaustion because he needs to know he's not the only one. "I was jealous," I sigh. "I still am."
His chest expands quickly and I think maybe he's laughing and then I feel his lips on my brow, my closed eyes, my nose, finally my lips. I kiss back, but he pulls away.
"I missed you," he whispers, "go back to sleep. Don't be jealous; you have my heart."
I don't need any more convincing than that as I drift to the sound of his soft breaths, his slowing heart.
He's better than any dream I could have conjured.