A/N: Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I'm only borrowing her characters for a little while. The plot and original characters of Longing do belong to me, however. Jasper as the God of War and Peter "just knowing shit" are ideas that belong to Idreamofeddy.
Thank you to my wonderful beta and friend, Laurie Whitlock, my beloved sister/beta/prereader, Shelljayz, and also to the fabulous juliangelus for prereading. If you haven't read her story, tiger stripes, you should. You should check out Laurie's stories as well. :)
Thank you to all of you who have read, followed, favorited and reviewed my story. You are awesome, and I love you!
Well, here you go, guys: Jasper's thoughts during Bella's breakdown. This was a real bitch to write for many reasons, so I hope you like it. It would not be what it is without the help of the wonderful ladies mentioned above.
oOo
Tuesday, November 2nd, 2080
JPOV
My conversation with Carlisle the day before had filled my brain with things I didn't want to consider. Everything he'd dumped on me was too fuckin' much on top of all my other shit. His diagnosis was unexpected and unwelcome. I hadn't gone to him and opened up so he could take the opportunity to psychoanalyze me. I knew he was just trying to help, but that wasn't the purpose or the point. The point was to inform him so he could be prepared if things went to hell and Bella got in the way—that was all. He wasn't supposed to go all shrinky mind-fucker on me. Even though I'd gone to him, that didn't mean I wasn't pissed for what I saw as him overstepping his bounds.
I knew I wasn't perfect, that I had weaknesses. I already had to hear the Major's voice in my head constantly reminding me of that. So, to add Carlisle's two cents to the equation was starting to set me off, and I was already on edge to begin with.
Even in my agitation, I knew Carlisle was just making observations, but the idea that I had a disorder or some shit was ridiculous, so I didn't want to think about his crackpot theories. Unfortunately, I had to consider them because I went all soft and promised him I would. I didn't often make promises, so I always did my best to keep them when I did, but I wasn't going to think on them now. I would do it later, when it was more convenient.
Instead of going home after our chat, I'd gone hunting. I'd needlessly slaughtered animals and uprooted all sorts of trees and vegetation, crumbled boulders and roared at the sky. Then I'd drunk my fill of blood until my stomach felt like it would burst. Dramatic, maybe, but necessary.
After that, I went to a waterfall I knew and relaxed, focusing on the sound of the water until there was nothing left in my head. I'd stayed there for hours, not returning home until just before Bella usually got up to get ready for school.
School was a welcome distraction from all the unwanted shit in my head. It was normally boring as fuck, and that wasn't any different today. I never had to concentrate because I was a vampire with a huge amount of brain power, but I forced myself to give it my all. As much as school blew, it succeeded in keeping my mind blank.
Now I was sitting at the dining room table with Bella, working on our history project about the terrorist attacks of 2012. Well, I would have been, only Bella wasn't there. Her eyes were clouded over, and that lost hue had returned to them, that hue that was just so fuckin' wrong it made my insides twist. Wherever she was, it wasn't with me and it wasn't a place that was pleasant. I could relate.
She stayed in that place for a long time, and I didn't know what to do, how to bring her out of it. I felt helpless, and I hated it. There was also a little part of me that loved it because it gave me something else to focus on besides me and all my shit. When Bella finally came back from wherever she'd gone, she had to have noticed my intent gaze. She wouldn't have raised a questioning eyebrow at me if she hadn't.
I raised my own eyebrow. "You back with me, sugar?"
I wasn't going to make a big deal out of her departure from reality. If it was me, that's what I would have wanted, but I also didn't want her to think I didn't notice at all or that I didn't care that she was hurting. As always, my sentiments, while mild, weren't well-received.
She scowled. "I wasn't aware I left."
"Oh, you were definitely someplace else," I remarked with confidence and a grin at her irritation. The fact that I affected her in that way amused me because her ire pissed me off. That made me a hypocrite because I got irritated by that shit, and I shouldn't judge. I tried not to be irritated by it. I wasn't judging her. I just wanted her to let me care about her, at least in this, without being a bitch about it.
I tried to hide my grin at her obvious annoyance since her unwillingness to accept my subtle concern did piss me off. It made me happy that she only noticed my amusement and not my own agitation. She only grew more irked. It wasn't nice of me considering, but I decided to provoke her more. My intent wasn't entirely malicious though. I still hated seeing her in pain, and the sooner we got this shit done, the sooner she wouldn't be.
"You ready to get to work or are you headed back to La La Land?"
Bella's scowl deepened. "You are an insufferable smart ass, Jasper Whitlock."
I grinned boyishly at her and a strange look twisted her features. Her beauty struck me like a blow in that moment, and I fought not to let it show. Why did she have to be so damn gorgeous? "So I've been told."
"I hate you," she growled.
I expected to be angry by her declaration of hatred, though I shouldn't have been. It wasn't something I didn't already know, but it had never stopped pissing me off. Instead I was bothered … maybe even hurt, and that did piss me off. I didn't hate her anymore. I was beginning to wonder if I ever had, which bugged me even more. I didn't want to care about her. I wouldn't even if I didn't like that she was in pain.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I hate you too. Now can we get started? I have other things to do."
She knew I was annoyed. I could tell, and it pleased her. She sucked. I wanted to tell her that, and I would have if the look of discomfort on her face hadn't returned and deepened. It didn't last for long though. Determination filled her expression and she bit out a reply.
"Ditto."
That determination of hers that I so admired wavered soon after and her distraction took over once more. Attempting to work on this project was going to be trying if I had to deal with her indifference the whole time. I was tempted to tell her to leave, that I would do the rest of the project myself. As much as I didn't want to care about her, that she was hurting, I still couldn't stand that she was so upset. I didn't think she even realized that I'd picked up on it, and that, almost more than anything else, disturbed me since she was so observant.
I needed to get this shit started so we could get it over with, so I dragged a chair next to her and pulled my laptop in front of us. Then I booted it up and glanced at her out of the corner of my eye to see if she was still with me. She was pale, and she looked conflicted, but I couldn't tell over what. There was a slightly different tenor to it now. It was less haunted, more confused and torn. She was biting her lip.
Goddamn it! the Major and I hissed in unison, fighting back a groan. I wasn't sure how I managed to keep it from slipping out and echoing in the room.
It was difficult, but I ignored my baser urges and brought my attention back to the matter at hand. I pulled up an academic website with a great database of pictures depicting the carnage of the aftermath of the terrorist attacks and began tagging the ones that had potential for use in our media project. Bella's attention span flew out the window the second I clicked on the link.
My attempts to get her to give me her input were half-assed and it wasn't long before I let her off the hook completely. It was useless anyway.
It wasn't until I hit play on a video about our topic that things truly went to hell, and I wanted to kick myself for being such a fuckin' dumbass.
The typical human physiological responses to anger and fear were increased heart rate, blood flow, respiration and perspiration, a surge of both adrenaline and nonadrenaline in the bloodstream and tension in the muscles. There were a few minor differences between the two, but those were the main ones. Bella is somewhat of an anomaly. Her reactions to pretty much everything never seemed to match those of a "normal" human. There were only three instances where she'd shown more than one of those typical responses to anger or fear: the alley in Louisville, the first time we'd worked on this project and Halloween when I'd brought her to her knees, and even then, her reactions weren't nearly as strong as they should have been. Two of those three instances were a direct result of my provocation, and the third was colored by my presence. I wasn't even going to contemplate her responses to what I'd done to her when I'd pressed her against the wall.
This was different. Bella was losing it. Her heart was racing, her blood was barreling through her veins, her breathing was frantic—borderline gasping. She even whimpered once and squeezed her eyes shut, like she hoped it would make whatever she was seeing disappear and bring her back to reality, and I knew she was trapped somewhere else. It was both an instinct and the look on her face that clued me in. Her eyes were panicked but far away, as though there was a part of her that wasn't aware of her surroundings. Still, she was aware enough to try to act as though everything was normal. Her breathing continued to worsen, her face drained of every last bit of color left there and she was gripping the table so hard her knuckles were white.
And it was my fault. I knew this shit upset her, and I may as well have forced it on her.
I couldn't watch Bella suffer anymore, so I did the same thing I'd done the last time, only when I did it now, I was aware of what I was doing as I did it. I reached out to her and placed my hand over hers. Her hand was small—it was the first time I'd truly noticed. I had seen her devastated and distraught before—when she came home from buying her car and the other day as we worked on this project—but even in her devastation she had never seemed vulnerable to me. But she did seem vulnerable now and it struck me as odd that, of all things, it was the size and delicateness of her hand that made me think it. She practically jumped out of her skin at the contact of my hand, which was also very uncharacteristic for Bella. She never lost her cool over things; not on the outside, at least. She fired off sarcastic remarks, witty insults or adopted a practiced indifference, but she didn't ever let anyone see just how much anything rattled her.
Her gaze snapped to me, but it was unfocused.
"Bella?" I questioned.
"Hmm?" she asked. Her distraction was clear, and I wished, for the billionth time, that I could feel her emotions. I wanted to help her, and I didn't know how. Maybe if I could feel them, I could figure it out.
Our eyes locked and froze, and I lost track of time. Her brown eyes were just so damn pretty and haunting. They were familiar somehow, comforting, and the longer we gazed at each other, the more they seemed to clear. I wanted to help her, and for whatever reason, this was helping. I would look at her like this for as long as it took.
Bella's breathing started to stabilize, and the panic began to vanish from her brown orbs. After awhile it felt safe to let go of her hand. I knew how much she didn't like being touched. I had taken a chance that a physical connection would anchor her the way it had the first time we worked on our project, and it had worked, but it could just as easily have backfired. Now that she was getting better, I needed to break that connection. I had held onto her for long enough.
When I pulled away, she didn't let my hand get more than an inch from hers before she grabbed it and held tight. We'd touched before, many times, but I'd always been the one to initiate it. This was the first time she had, and it threw me.
My eyes dropped to our joined hands. "Do you want to take a break?"
Bella's expression shifted from shell-shocked to relieved, and she answered, "Yeah, my brain is kind of fried."
She let go of me, looking reluctant as she did it, and released a shaky breath. I didn't want to lose the contact with her either, but I wouldn't force it on her if she didn't want it. She may have been conflicted about it, but she had let go. That meant the part of her that didn't want my touch was greater.
Bella propped her elbows on the table, leaned her head in her palms and dug her fingers in her hair. It wasn't gentle. Neither was the way she tugged at it. She didn't hiss or flinch at the punishment she was inflicting on herself. That was more like the Bella I knew, but it worried me. If she didn't stop, she would rip her hair out, not by the roots but with chunks of scalp attached. I needed her to stop. I couldn't explain that need or the swirl of emotion roaring through me. All I knew was that I had to heed it.
I ran my fingers gently, coaxingly, from her knuckles to her fingertips and they loosened almost immediately. She sighed, and I encompassed her hand with mine again. It was the only way I could think of to keep at least one of her hands from diving into her hair again.
"Come on," I said, hauling her to her feet and leading her towards the garage. I was going to get her out of here, on my motorcycle and into some fresh air. It might help clear her head of the last vestiges of her anxiety attack.
She didn't fight me. It was another thing that worried me. Bella always fought me, and this time she didn't. But then, after a few moments hesitation, she did. She turned the tables and started directing me instead, and I felt better. It meant the Bella I knew was still in there.
She towed me up the stairs. I didn't know where to yet, but I didn't resist or speak. She was doing what she needed to do, and I wasn't going to argue with that.
Her bedroom was our final destination. She dragged me inside, shut the door behind us and led me to her bed. My shock over being pushed down on to it was nearly overwhelming—so overwhelming I didn't move from my position on my back or comment when she kicked off her boots, crawled in beside me and took my hand again.
I never imagined I'd ever end up in Bella's bed. It was a thought I'd never really entertained, and my fantasies of being with her generally involved every surface but a mattress. This was different. It wasn't about sex. In all honesty, I wasn't sure what it was about. Comfort, I guess.
When Bella fell asleep a few minutes later, I wasn't surprised. She'd looked exhausted, and I knew from personal experience that the shit she'd just been through wiped a person out. It sure as hell knocked me on my ass when I got blindsided by the same thing, and I was a vampire—that shouldn't have been possible, yet every time it happened to me, I ended up nearly comatose for a short while.
I only briefly entertained the idea of leaving her, but I couldn't shake the notion that she might have a nightmare. It was arrogant to think that she might need me if she did, but I had helped her through her attack earlier. I couldn't discount the possibility that I might be able to help her again.
A little over twenty minutes after she fell asleep, what I was afraid of came to pass—she started to dream, and it wasn't one filled with lollipops and candy canes. She started shaking and whimpering, gasping, and a tear slipped down her cheek. My chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of it, and I didn't know what the fuck to do. Now that it was happening, I was at a loss. I didn't know how to comfort someone, and I hadn't slept in more than two centuries. Did I just shake her or something?
God, I wished I could project! At least then I could muster up some peace and calm and lay them on her like a blanket. Why was I still so fuckin' inept? And why did I care so goddamn much? I refused to think on that though. I wouldn't find the answer, and I still didn't really want to know what that answer was, so I focused back on the girl lying next to me.
I squeezed her hand and ran my thumb in little circles against her skin. It was the only thing I could think to do, and as cluelessly desperate a gesture as it was, it worked. Bella's breathing regulated, the trembling stopped, her whimpering died out and the two tears she'd shed in the time I'd struggled to come up with something to pull her out of her dream dried to faintly salty trails on her cheeks. I was tempted to wipe them away, but I didn't want to touch her. She looked peaceful for the moment, and I didn't want to ruin it.
It turned out I didn't have to touch her. Not much more than a minute later, Bella began to shift in her sleep. Little by little, her body inched closer to mine. At first her progress was intermittent. She would scoot an inch and halt, remaining still for several seconds before starting in my direction again, but eventually her movement became steady. She didn't stop until she was pressed flush against my side from our shoulders to her toes on my calf, our joined hands sandwiched in between.
The heat of her seeped into my skin. It wasn't so much the electricity, although that was present, but her human warmth. The last time that happened was when we were in Louisville, and I couldn't say I didn't like it. I found that odd and disturbing.
I didn't quite know how it happened, but suddenly Bella was draped over me. That's how fast it happened or maybe it shocked me so much that's how it seemed. Either way, she was lying on me, fast asleep … and I didn't hate it.
I don't cuddle. Cuddling required prolonged periods of touching, and I always did my damndest to limit the amount of touching I did to the least that was required. Even when I fucked, I only used positions that required minimal contact. I did not do that full body caressing, groping, fondling, whatever the hell well-adjusted people wanted to call it, shit. It wasn't appealing to me and any woman I was with either got that and got some or didn't and got none. It was no skin off my nose. I was not Prince Charming. I didn't do Walt Disney-style happily-ever-afters. I didn't believe in them. Most of the women I slept with were nomads I ran across when I was living with Peter and Charlotte either as nomads ourselves or when some of their drifter friends came to visit at one of their houses. Those women understood my anti-affection manifesto because very few of them wanted more than a no-strings fuck either and were just biding their time until their mates came along.
Other than the nomads, most of my sexual exploits were with Kate, and she was beyond chill about my views and issues, even if she didn't share them. Alice was the only woman who'd really had a hard time with my aversion to showing affection during sex or cuddling afterward … until the day she decided to push me on it and had a vision of the aftermath. That schooled her real quick.
Yet here I was, cuddling, and I wasn't freaking out; and I was cuddling with Bella, of all people. I suddenly realized this wasn't the only time I'd allowed full body contact between us—I had in Louisville too. I was in a goddamn alternate universe or something. That was the only explanation for this shit.
Then came even more weirdness: her legs tangled with mine, and I actually let them without putting up any sort of fight. Not even half a minute later, her left hand snuck underneath my back and rested on my shoulder blade, her fingertips curling just slightly against my skin. Her head burrowed itself in the crook of my neck, her soft little nose pressed into my skin, and the tickle of her first exhale made me shiver. Then the hand laying on my chest snaked upward, only stopping when she reached the base of my neck and curled into the hair there. It felt good … too damn good, just like it had in Louisville. Why did it have to feel so good? I didn't want it to. I wanted it to make me uncomfortable, the way it did with everyone else. It would give me an excuse to push her off me, but then I would feel guilty because she seemed to need me at the moment. No matter how much it bothered me that I wasn't as bothered as I should be, I still wanted to give her that comfort. I would just have to suck it up.
It didn't help that Bella's body pressed so fully against mine had me reacting the way I always did to her. It wasn't as strong, probably because of what she'd just been through, but my entire body was humming. It was something I couldn't help though. I never had been able to, and it pissed me off just as much now as it always had. I didn't think it would ever not bug me.
I wasn't sure how deeply she was asleep, but considering how aware she was of everything, I had a hunch she was most likely a light sleeper. If she moved her leg any higher, she would know exactly how she was affecting me, and it would probably wake her up. I did not want her to wake up, at least not until I got my dick under control. I refused to let her find out what her body still did to mine. No fuckin' way. I would not give her that power or satisfaction even if I didn't hate her anymore. No one would ever have power over me again. Not in that way, not in any way … unless I chose to give it to them, and that would never fuckin' happen.
I closed my eyes and conjured up the sound of the ocean lapping at the shore, trying to empty my head of everything, including her—especially her. It would be difficult with the way she was pressed up against me, but I would do it somehow. I had to do it. I couldn't ruin this. She had been through too much only a short time ago, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was about the 2012 attacks that brought all this on. I wouldn't ask her though. It wasn't my business.
I shoved my curiosity out of the way and concentrated on the waves as I pictured the stars in the night sky above me, and eventually, it helped to get my dick under my control and all inappropriate thoughts—okay, most—wrestled into a cage in my mind that kept them from affecting me. It was a fuckin' miracle, and I didn't know if I would ever be able to do it again … unless Bella had another panic attack and she unintentionally snuggled up to me like this again.
It had taken her thirty minutes altogether to fall asleep, dream, drift across the space between us and drape herself over me. She slept for nearly an hour before she stirred, her heart rate picking up only slightly as it shifted from the evenness of sleep to wakefulness, and when it did, I opened my eyes.
I felt the flutter of her eyelashes against my neck as Bella came into awareness. It was apparent to me when she realized exactly where she was and who she was tangled up with. She froze, and I froze because it was only then that I realized what a disaster this was. Bella was curled up practically on top of me, and she had no way of knowing that she was the one responsible for it. When she got over her shock, she would blame me, throw a shit fit and go in to "castrate Jasper" mode.
Awesome!
When she did get over her shock, she scurried backwards out of my arms and just stared, searching my face. Her expression was perplexed and cautious, and I knew she was trying to piece everything together. I waited patiently for her to come to whatever conclusion she may. I tried to tell myself I wouldn't care if she blew up at me and only partially succeeded in convincing myself. It was irritating and confusing and she was taking too fuckin' long to make a decision. The longer she took, the more uneasy I felt … and the harder it was for me to keep up my conviction that I didn't care how she reacted.
"How did we end up like that?" Bella queried. Her voice wasn't sharp or accusing but soft and curious; so was her expression, and I was reminded of my earlier thought about her vulnerability.
If I could project, my relief would have permeated the room, but then I had to actually answer her question. Would she believe me? She didn't really have any reason to. When had I ever given her a reason? And she hated me. Why would she believe me? More importantly, why did I care if she believed me or not?
Because if the two of you rip each other apart it makes things awkward, dumbass! the Major reminded me. For the first time I wondered if he was telling me what I wanted to hear and not what he actually thought, but the Major never did that shit. He always said what he thought. He had no filter. That's just who he was.
"You just sort of ... shifted after you fell asleep," I responded, my tone quiet.
"Oh," Bella said simply. I expected her to say more, to call bullshit or to spout off something biting or sarcastic. It threw me off when she didn't. "Why didn't you wake me?"
I could discern her confusion clearly, which was odd. Bella was hardly ever an open book for me … except for that haunted quality in her eyes, but haunted was haunted. It wasn't an emotion. It was the remnants of a hurricane of them—a compilation of shit that took up residence in your soul and wouldn't scrub clean. Haunted didn't tell you what put it there; all it told you was that something horrific had happened to the person whose eyes you were looking in to.
I decided to tell her the truth. She deserved it, and I didn't have the fortitude at the moment to come up with a lie or a half-truth nor was I in the mood. I scooted backwards and propped myself against her headboard with nonchalance, like I belonged in her bed. If I made a big deal out of this, it would make both of us feel more awkward about it than we already did. I shrugged. "You seemed like you needed it."
"Oh," she said again. Bella didn't seem to know what else to say, and I was glad. I was already struggling enough to give her answers to the simple questions she'd already asked, and I didn't foresee that changing. "How long was I out?"
"A little over an hour," I informed her. "You won't be late for work if you're worried about that." I wanted to shift the focus to something else, to take the edge away from the discomfort of our situation. We both needed that gone.
Bella looked startled again at my mention of work, as if she'd forgotten, and moved off the bed. She stretched languorously and I couldn't peel my eyes away from her. Little movements like those mesmerized me, as much as I wished they didn't, but the atmosphere between us was too strange for it to have its usual effect, and I was grateful.
She began to move passed me, in the direction of her bathroom, like I was no longer there, and I couldn't let her do it. I couldn't watch her walk away from me. She'd done it so many times for so many insignificant things, and I had never liked it for reasons I'd never been able to fathom. But this wasn't an insignificant thing, and I couldn't let her walk away from me this time. Not yet.
I scrambled off her bed and grabbed her arm as gently as I could. My hands guided her to face me without thought, and I momentarily had no idea what to do. I hadn't had a plan when I went after her, other than the need to keep Bella from leaving. She stiffened for an instant and I wondered if I made a mistake, but then she relaxed, and I relaxed and the words flowed out of me as if I'd known what I was going to say all along. Her inquisitive stare spurred me along.
"I can do that part of the project," I said softly. "If you want." My offer was a wholehearted one, one I'd been considering ever since she'd gotten upset the last time. I truly would do anything to keep what had happened today from happening ever again.
Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "By yourself?"
Why did everything I do have to surprise her so goddamn much? What had I done to make her think so poorly of me? It was so fuckin' frustrating! I had to force myself not to be offended by it, to remember what she'd been through only an hour or so ago, and that shit like that affected a person's reactions to pretty much everything. It heightened them, put you on edge, made you feel like everyone was out to get you. She seemed always to think I was out to get her. I guess that was even worse now. I had to remind myself to be thankful she'd let me comfort her at all. That was progress, wasn't it? I couldn't expect things to change so drastically in a matter of minutes, could I?
I nodded tentatively, waiting for her answer.
"Why?" Bella questioned warily. She didn't understand why I would help her. It was her mistrust yet again rearing its ugly head. I guess nothing had changed after all, whether she'd let me comfort her or not. Sometimes people needed comfort and were willing to take it wherever they could get it, even if it was from someone they hated. That hurt, and I didn't want it to.
"You're busy catching up in your other classes and keeping up with the current curriculum," I explained, concealing that hurt like the pro I was. "Plus, you've got your job."
She opened her mouth to protest, but I stopped her by tightening my hand on her arm just enough to get her to pause so I could speak. I didn't know exactly how I came across to her in that moment, and I didn't really care. All I knew was I had to make her believe that I meant what I said because that was the only way she would even consider letting me do what I'd requested. I did believe what I was about to say. "I know you're capable of juggling all of it, Bella, but you've done the majority of the work on the paper and the oral presentation. Your outlines are solid, cognizant, and very impressive. You've got great insight, and you're clear and concise. Like you said, you know this shit, and we brainstormed the concept for the media project together. That's really the most important thing. Will you please let me do this?"
Bella nodded immediately, and I didn't stop to question how odd that was. All I was willing to acknowledge was my relief at her easy acquiescence. "Thank you."
My response came out embarrassingly earnest, but I didn't care. I would berate myself for being a pussy later. The Major would too.
Bella nodded again, and I was glad she didn't say anything. I wouldn't have known what to say back. The awkwardness of the situation suddenly amplified tenfold, and I needed to escape her presence more than I'd needed to escape anything in a long while.
"I'll just go now," I said, the awkwardness I felt coming out clear in my tone. That was also embarrassing, and I hated that she could make me embarrassed. I could feel the weight of her gaze as I exited her room, and I wondered if watching me walk away from her ever bothered her the way it bothered me. It was an annoying and unwanted thought that pissed me off. It also didn't matter. Nothing about her mattered. Maybe if I said it enough, that would make it true.
I was so absorbed by the possibility that I didn't hear Bella's footsteps as she closed the distance between us. Her fingers wrapped around my bicep with caution and gentleness. I didn't wait for her to spin me around. I wasn't sure if that was her intention, but I wanted to see her face. Her features were uncertain just as surely as mine were. I figured she would say something, but she didn't. Instead she did something entirely unexpected.
She kissed me on the cheek, stunning me so thoroughly, I couldn't pull away … I couldn't move at all for that matter. Her lips seemed to linger against my skin forever, and I couldn't figure out if I wanted to grab on to her and keep her there or shove her and tell her to stay the fuck away from me. But then she pulled back and met my eyes, and I saw something in them I never expected to see—gratitude. Bella was grateful.
There was another emotion in her eyes I couldn't place, and I didn't know what to make of it either. I didn't have words that wouldn't make me sound like a jackass, so I kept silent. There wasn't really a need for me to speak anyway. After all, what was there to say?
I did the only thing that made sense … I left.
oOo
Friday, November 5th, 2080
Three days had passed since Bella's breakdown and things had pretty much gone back to the way they'd always been between us. We pretended the other didn't exist because it was easier. I couldn't say there weren't differences though: Bella no longer stared daggers at me and she no longer made venomous comments either under her breath or loud enough for me to hear. I didn't know what to make of it. Was I relieved or pissed off? I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I had wanted her to like me so our living situation wouldn't be so tense, but I had never wanted to care about her. When she blatantly hated me, that was easier to do. Now, not so much.
It didn't help that there was still an awkwardness between us because of what had happened. Even though Bella was ignoring me, every time I caught her looking my way, there was an air of embarrassment about her that I knew had to do with us ending up in her bed. I would have told her she had nothing to be embarrassed about, but she wasn't the only one who felt weird. At least our mutual uneasiness over the situation wasn't being exacerbated by the others—no one else had been home at the time, so they couldn't give us shit for it, though the majority of that shit would probably be threats against my dick more than anything else.
Alice, Edward and I had just come home from a trip to the grocery store and we'd heard every word of the conversation between Bella, Emmett, Rosalie, Peter and Charlotte. It was Edward and Alice's haste to join that conversation that had us on our way to the kitchen without taking any of those groceries with us.
Of course we had to pretend we hadn't heard any of their conversation, so when Edward took in Bella's backpack, one we'd never seen, he furrowed brows purposely. "Are you headed to the library or something?"
"No," Rosalie answered for her, her tone hostile. "Bella's going on a road trip."
"Where to?" Alice asked with her usual enthusiasm, that emotion washing over me and passing through without taking its usual hold. She was masking her concern over Bella's impending departure well. I had to give her that, but that was Alice.
"To do the world a service," Rosalie said flippantly. "Whatever the fuck that means."
I looked at Bella to see how she reacted to Rose yet again responding for her as well as to what that response was, but she didn't look at me, and since I could only see her profile, I couldn't properly get a read on her expression. I probably wouldn't have been able to anyway. Though her embarrassment wasn't hard to decipher, the rest of her emotions were just as much of a mystery as they'd always been.
As always, Bella went for shock value. I didn't know if she did it on purpose, but she did it often, and when she did, her targets were always the perfect ones to elicit the greatest effect. I would almost say they were strategic, but what seventeen year old knew that much about strategy?
She almost bolted towards Rose, taking our sister by surprise because honestly, why would she approach Rose of all people? Bella threw her arms around her and planted a huge, sloppy, smacking kiss on Rose's cheek, complete with slobber and then danced out of her way before she was forcefully removed from our sister's personal space. Rose's face contorted with disgust and disbelief.
"Oh, Rose," Bella cried dramatically. "I'll miss you too!"
Rose gave Bella a dirty look, and our human waved at her with a cheeky air that made me want to laugh. I restrained myself. Then Bella went around giving hugs to everyone, stopping when she reached me. The awkward tension between us thickened, and she took a step back.
"See ya, Whitlock," she said, smiling wryly. I just watched her, not uttering a word. What was I going to say?
I continued to stare as Bella made her way to the garage and listened as she got in her car and drove away from the house. I wasn't the only one.
I wondered if she was coming back, but I somehow knew that she was. Unlike the others, I was glad she was leaving. I needed her gone for awhile.
oOo
A/N: I will see you guys in a couple days! :)
Take care.
