~Monsters are not under your bed. They are inside your head~
I knock on Edward's front door. After a beat of silence, anxiously wringing my hands, I hear the door unlock. It creaks open as Esme peeks her head out, a soft smile forming on her face once she acknowledges me.
"Bella, darling. Come in." She opens the door further, inviting me inside the warm home.
I can feel her observing the bags under my eyes with concern written on her face as we stand in the doorway. "How have you been?"
I take a deep breath. "I'm ok… actually, I'm not. At all." I let go of the mask of indifference I put in place and let the tears form in my eyes.
I'm tired of trying to be strong and acting as if everything is ok when it's not. There's something about Esme that makes me feel like I don't have to put on a front because she'll see right through it anyway.
Her petite figure engulfs me in her arms as I bury my face into her neck, my tears soaking into the collar of her blouse. She's warm, soft, and comforting — like what a mother should feel like. Something I've never known.
She smells like cookies and lavender — like home and love.
Esme grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me back to stare into my eyes, her own shining with tears. "He's suffering as much as you. The further apart you both are, the more damage it's causing both of you. My son hasn't made the wisest choices Bella, but he doesn't love anything in the world more than you." She gives me a sad smile. "He's not a bad man and wouldn't hurt you. He's transformed so much since he met you. I feel like I finally got my son back when he's with you."
Those words tear even deeper into my chest, tears effortlessly falling down my cheeks. "I know. I'm not staying away from him anymore, I promise. I love him so much."
It will kill me if I do it again.
Esme pulls me into an embrace again, caressing my hair and placing a kiss on my cheek. "You both will work through this. You're meant to be together." We just hold onto each other for a good minute after that.
After letting me go, she grabs a key from the side table next to us and places it in my hand. "Just in case his door is locked, and he doesn't open it." She gives my hand one last squeeze before gesturing towards the stairs.
My legs feel heavy as they trudge up the stairs. Knots twist in my stomach, nervous to see how he's been doing mixed with an eagerness and fullness in my chest of seeing him. The longer I stay away from Edward, the more intense this need and ache between us becomes.
Once I reach the hallway, there's loud, angry metal music blasting through his door as I walk closer to his room. Even though I want to barge in, I need to respect his privacy. I knock on the door, hoping he'll open it.
He doesn't.
I bang harder. "Edward? It's Bella," I shout, hoping he can hear me through the aggressive music.
I turn the knob, but resistance meets me. He locked it like Esme said he might.
Doubt fills me. What if he can hear me, but he doesn't want to see me? What if he's finally done with our toxicity and doesn't want me anymore? Is that why he's been so distant through text? Rejection and fear of losing him stab deeper into my heart, making it hard to breathe.
With shaky hands, I unlock his door and head inside. Blackout curtains cover his windows, barely any light illuminating the room from outside. I head towards the speakers, turning the volume off. My eyes catch a huge lump buried under a mountain of blankets on his bed. I keep calling his name, but he doesn't even budge.
My heart drops for a second, thinking the worst. I hope it hasn't been long since Esme checked on him.
What if he did something stupid?
My hands are trembling, but the fear and dread in my stomach make me rip the blankets off of him. Edward's laying on his stomach, his face buried in the crook of his arm. I can tell he's breathing with the way his back rises and falls, and I feel like I'm catching my breath with relief after being held underwater for so long. But he doesn't react to my movement.
He looks so relaxed and peaceful, not the weight of the world and problems over looming and destroying his soul. His hair is disheveled and oily. A white, tight t-shirt clings to the taut muscles of his back, damp with sweat, sticking to his skin. His bottom half covered with grey sweats.
Watching him here in the flesh, vulnerable to my gaze, makes my heart pulse. I missed every part of him. His body, his face, his soul, his mind, his heart — his pain.
I step closer to sit on the bed next to him when my feet crash into something that falls over and rings out a loud sound. I turn on the lamp on his bedside table, a warm glow illuminating the room, and glance down to see the floor littered with empty liquor bottles.
The smell of day-old liquor and body sweat permeates my nostrils. Here Edward was, making me believe he was kind of doing ok when he was far from it. I should have known better. He's been wasting away.
I become infuriated that he's throwing himself away like this. Drinking himself to a mindless mess of nothingness.
I swear to God if he's still doing drugs…
The thought removes all tenderness from my voice. "Edward, get up," I demand, shaking him.
Edward groans gruffly, struggling to open his eyes against the light. It's not even that bright in here. He whines like a child, trying to grab back for the blanket, curling into himself and burying his face deeper into the mattress. He must have the worst headache and hangover if all those empty liquor bottles are anything to go by.
I know I might seem cruel, but Edward is not a guy to always handle gently. "Edward, no. You smell like a dive bar. Get up and get in the shower." A part of me feels guilty being harsh and blunt with him, considering I'm the one that took space. But I wish he just cared for himself more and didn't let himself rot away when I'm not near. I told him I wasn't leaving him. I just needed a few days.
I place a hand against his damp back, slipping under his shirt to caress him, my hand sticking to his skin. The electricity between us vibrates through me.
"Bella?" Edward asks groggily and quietly, like he hasn't used his voice in days. It sends a throbbing between my legs. He turns his head slightly to the side to glance at me. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen, hard for him to open them, hooded and in slits.
"Yeah, baby, it's me," my voice softens. It hurts me to see him in such bad shape like this and know I'm the one causing it. I think I've done enough damage to him — to both of us. And he thinks he's the only villain.
I wish he just had some will to live on his own. But I also don't blame him because how could he not let what he's been through destroy him. It's not like I was doing my best before I had him either. And I always leave when he needs me the most. Bile rushes up my throat at the thought.
The most serene, dazed smile tilts his lips up as his eyes slide back closed in bliss. "Here, come cuddle with me before I wake up, and you're gone." Edward turns back around, burying himself in the bed, pulling the pillow into his chest and squeezing onto it for dear life. "I miss you so much," he whispers into the pillow.
"Edward, I'm not leaving. Come on, get up. Let's change your sheets, get you in the shower, and then we can cuddle," I say softly, still caressing his back.
And hopefully, a lot more than that. Every time I'm away from him, I need him inside me to fill the gap and distance.
He groans, still dazed and half asleep. "Dream Bella doesn't give a shit if I shower. We just cuddle and make love until I wake up, and then she's gone. Then I drown myself in booze until I see her again." He pouts. He's so vulnerable and boyish-like in his half-conscious state. "Don't let me wake up."
Those words break my heart.
Is he still intoxicated?
I sit on the bed next to him, my legs hanging off. "Edward, what are you going on about? You're not dreaming. I'm really here."
"I don't believe you. You always say that, but you always leave. Stop lying to me, dream Bella. You break my heart enough in real life. Don't do it in my dreams."
Shit.
It takes everything in me not to fall apart and break down in tears. I need to be strong for the both of us. I've hurt him so much, and I've only focused on my pain because he hides the pain I cause him. He's completely open and vulnerable right now, telling me how he truly feels because he doesn't think I'm real.
Edward thinks he's still dreaming, and I'm just a figment of his imagination.
Fuck. Has he been this bad for the past few days… all along? Is this why he used to hide his drug use? Losing himself in an abyss of alcohol and sleep because that's the only way he can have me without leaving?
My chest tightens, and stomach plummets. Esme is right; I'm causing more damage by staying apart. I know I can't leave him, so why am I making us suffer? We need to fix each other, and this is not the way. I always make things worse when trying to make them better.
I lie down behind him on my side and curl around his back, resting my head on his shoulder and sliding my arm around his waist. "Edward, you're not dreaming. I promise I'm really here, babe. I'm staying here as long as you need." I slide my cold hand under his shirt, along his abs. His hot, sweaty skin warms and burns up through my veins. "I'm so sorry for everything," my voice thick with emotion.
He shivers at my touch and jumps up startled, sitting up. "Bella, fuck. You're really here."
Yeah. I am.
He groans a deep rumble and scrubs his hands down his face, trying to gain full consciousness.
Black shadows are painted beneath his eyes. "Shit, I'm a fucking mess. I don't want you to see me like this." His cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment as he drops his head.
I lean toward him, kissing his shoulder. "I don't care what you look like. I don't think anything you do can make you unattractive in my eyes."
It's not a lie. I'm already soaked between my thighs at the sight of him. Edward can look the best sometimes at his worst. Disheveled, rough, broken, dirty. Even with his bloodshot eyes, wrinkled clothes, sweaty skin, and messy hair, he's beyond fucking hot. And it takes everything in me not to mount him and ride him right here. It's so much harder to resist the urge to attack him when I've been without him.
"Even though you don't smell the greatest right now," I tease with a soft chuckle. "Now, please get up so we can get you clean, so I can make you dirty all over again." I try lightening the mood.
It works. A soft, crooked smile forms on his face. He's sitting up against the headboard as I lie on the bed, against his leg. Edward finally takes me in, now that he's more aware and alert of his surroundings. His dark eyes trail up and down my body, taking in every inch of me like he hasn't seen me in so long.
Not even in a sexual way. Like in a way he can't believe I'm real. Like he can finally breathe. Like a drug addict's withdrawals disappearing once they get a taste of their drug. Like a man in a desert finding a glass of water.
A/N: I really love this chapter. Let me know what you think! And thanks to all the readers that are still here and reviewed :)
Next chapter that will be posted tomorrow will have some smut ;)