The next morning, I mewl awake. Sunshine splays over my skin like fertilizer. I spring up, throw the blanket off my body, and walk to the glass walls. Ocean waves roll and crash against the cliff down below. Blue, clear skies set the background. It's so beautiful, but I think I much prefer the night.
Memories of last evening flood through me. His words, his eyes, his smile.
His truth. His honesty.
He says cryptic things like he wishes it wasn't him—whatever it might be—and then he calls me Lovely. Whiplash isn't a strong enough word to use. He does admit though that he has fallen for me as well. And that's what I hook onto. That's what propels me to shower, put on a dress, slip into heeled sandals, and ask the three of them to go shopping.
Alice squeals in excitement, her legs bouncing as she finishes her breakfast.
"Give me two minutes!" she says, running into her room.
"Do you think that's a good idea considering Royce is actively hunting you," Jasper says, standing to clear his and Alice's dishes.
I shrug. "I can't live cooped up forever, Jasper."
Edward smirks, pushing himself off the counter he was resting against.
"A little shopping won't hurt anyone, Jasper," Edward says.
Jasper rolls his eyes and walks away to find Alice.
"Did you sleep well?" Edward asks, his back to me while he washes out his coffee mug.
"It was different," I tell him.
"Different good or different bad?"
"Good… I think. It's all very strange," I admit.
He nods. "Court 3 does not follow the rules of any other Court."
"I meant sleeping in different homes every week," I tell him. "But what do you mean? Why doesn't Court 3 follow the same rules?"
"Court 3 does not operate on the same grid as the other Courts."
I vaguely recall him talking about the grid that controls each Court when we traveled to Court 7 together.
"But you said each Court is controlled by a magnet and that's that regulates the weather."
He nods. "They are, and each Court connects to the next like puzzle pieces. But not Court 3."
"That's strange," I manage, brows furrowed. "Why?"
Edward shrugs. "I cannot be sure. This information was presented to me by another researcher."
"And?"
Edward turns to take me in. He's more casual today, but he's still as breathtaking as ever.
"And nothing, Belle."
We should discuss this later in private on account of some very curious, listening ears, he warns.
Understood.
Now ask me something else so we do not appear dubious.
Thinking quickly, I ask, "does this look okay for Court 3?"
Edward eyes me slowly. I'm in a shorter dress than normal. The blue fabric hugs my bodice snuggly and flairs slightly at the hip falling loosely around the middle of my thighs. Small, delicate buttons trail down the back. It's silky and butter-soft as it sways against my legs. The sleeves start at the edge of my shoulder, leaving my chest and neck exposed. Short, wedged heels lace up my calves and tie at the back.
"What an exquisite color on you," he says honestly. His unblinking eyes, sparkling emeralds under the sun, take me in.
It doesn't answer my question, but at this point, I don't care. He gives me butterflies and turns my blood to lava as it heats through to my skin. A soft blush colors my cheeks.
"Thank you," I whisper just as Alice reappears.
Alice hooks her arm around me and bounces in excitement. "Okay, Edward. Show us what Court 3 has to offer!"
~!~
It isn't until hour three that I regret my choice. Alice can't stop shopping while I war with myself over buying the elegant barrette in the shop's glass cabinet.
"You deserve it, Belle," Alice says before gasping and clutching at the silk scarf to our right. "Now this…" she sighs, rubbing her face against the soft texture. "I deserve this."
Edward and Jasper keep guard outside, ensuring no sightings of Royce or the like appear.
"It's so expensive," I tell her sadly, fingering the tag where $312 is written in beautiful, black ink. For a moment or two longer, I hold the gold hairpiece in my hand. It's the width of my palm, encrusted with beautiful crystals that sparkle brilliantly even in the dim lighting of the shop. With a heavy sigh, I place it back in the cabinet and grab a simpler style. It's smaller, and Alice helps me clip the front section of my hair back.
"I insist you get this one," Alice says, checking the price. It's well within my budget, so I decide to splurge. Alice gets one, too, so we match. In the mirror, I twist and pin the right side of her hair away from her face. She's stunning with her perfect smile and kind eyes.
We walk hand in hand to the door, but I stop her before pulling it open. Alice glances over at me as if to ask what's wrong before she looks across the street to where her brother and Jasper are seated on a bench.
They're facing each other, talking.
"Weird," Alice whispers as if they can hear.
I close my eyes and home in on Edward, sorting through his memories. It proves to be difficult since the conversation is currently happening, but I get the memories eventually.
Jasper's the first to speak. It's mostly about Royce, the upcoming surgery, and what it will feel like. Edward's very professional, curt, and honest. Jasper makes a snide comment. Edward rebuttals. Jasper accuses, but Edward does something that surprises me. He asks him a question.
"What do you know of the incident?" Edward asks, pained.
"What's there to know, Edward?" Jasper spits his name like it's rotten.
"You know the Royals were involved. I asked for them to keep it away from you, but I think it is time you learned the truth."
"Whatever you're going to say, save it. No one believes you." Jasper looks at Edward like he's a monster.
Edward nods over at his friend. I can't quite feel the entirety of his pain, but it hits me like broken glass—cuts and scrapes sporadically, lacerations so deep it tingles.
"Someone does," Edward says quietly.
Jasper catches on right away. "You have her fooled. She's blinded by your charm just as my mother—"
"Your mother took advantage of—"
"She did nothing of the sort."
Edward nods and looks away. "If you do not believe me, why not ask Belle? Unfortunately for her, she has seen it. The truth."
Jasper looks away now too.
Nothing more is said between these two ex-friends, and the way they left off leaves a lump in my throat. Alice's hand grips mine so she can see what I just did.
"Show me," Alice whispers afterward.
"No," I tell her, pulling my hand from hers.
"Belle, show me what you saw." Tears prick her eyes. "Please."
Show her if that is what she wishes, Edward says.
Swallowing deeply, I close my eyes and nod. I grip her hand and pull her with me as we exit the shop. The high feelings of happiness dwindle the closer we get to the boys.
"Not here," I say, looking directly at him.
Edward nods and glances at his sister. He grips my hand, our fingers laced, as he says, "meet us at my house."
When we return to his living room, before they arrive, I spit out, "are you sure?"
He nods stoically with downcast eyes and a somber smile. "It is time for her to know my truth," he answers honestly.
"But I don't even know it all. Only enough to infer," I argue.
"That is more than enough," Edward says. "I do not wish to subject you to such… horrors."
"Edward," I whisper, squeezing our hands together, offering silent support where he may need it. Knowing that these are his last few moments to change his mind, realizing he won't, I step closer and offer what anyone might need in his situation: a friend.
He smiles down at me, but there's no emotion. His eyes don't sparkle, his nose doesn't crinkle, and it certainly pales in comparison to last night's smile. Just as I open my mouth to speak, Alice and Jasper appear. Edward drops my hand and backs away.
We sit on the couch; his living room is open to the outdoor seating and pool area. A cool breeze flows through this relaxing atmosphere, and I can't help but think what will change once Alice sees.
"Show me," she says sternly.
I give her my hand and hold nothing back.
Every memory I've seen, the feelings and inklings and emotions I've felt, the nightmare I awoke to, her boyfriend's mother on her knees, laughing at him, the tears on his face, the revulsion in his stomach… I give it all to Alice.
She pulls back with a gasp. The last thing she saw was Jasper's mom on her knees, mentally holding Edward to a chair, pulling him from his short.
Alice leans forward, her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. She cries so softly I can barely hear it.
She needs you, Edward whispers.
She needs you, I emphasize.
Instead, it's Jasper who consoles her.
"It's true," she sobs into Jasper's shoulder. "Your mother—"
Jasper pulls back, shaking his head. "Don't—"
"She raped him," Alice cries again, saying the word neither he nor I could stomach.
Jasper allows her to fall into his chest. The weight of the word settles around us. My eyes grow heavy with desolation as Edward accidentally exudes more unrepressed memories. For a moment, he lets one slip.
She's on top; her body gyrates against his. They're both nude. She moans in pleasure, speaks dirty, depraved things about his body, and scratches her nails down his chest. Raw, red marks in thick lines cover his chest as she grows louder. Edward lays still, his head against the bed, turned to the right.
Glistening tracks of salty tears tremble down his cheeks.
And then, with a snap of his fingers, Edward's gone.
I offer Jasper my hand, but he furrows his brows and shakes his head silently. Maybe he's not ready to admit it, maybe he doesn't believe it, maybe he cannot believe it...
I rub Alice's back when Jasper excuses himself. He walks down the hall and shuts the door quietly. Together, Alice and I sit in the living room wordlessly. The absence of Edward's words screams louder than anything I've heard, but I give him all the space he needs.
Alice holds my hand long after her tears have dried.
"I should check on him," she whispers, looking behind her shoulder towards their wing of the house. "You'll be okay?" Alice asks.
"Yes," I tell her with a nod.
I stand to help her up, and Alice pulls me in for a hug.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"For what?"
Her eyes sparkle with truth, but she shrugs. "For being there for him. I didn't know…" Alice trails off before heading back down the hall.
In the silence of the house that screams Edward, I walk around, hoping to busy myself with anything. Field observations don't start until tomorrow, so I don't have any work to catch up on. I'm not very hungry, so busying myself with cooking is out.
Walking past Edward's room and into mine, I grab a book, change into a modest swimsuit with a sundress cover-up, and lay in a lounge chair under the beating sun. It's more orange than yellow today, and I wonder why that might be.
If Edward were here, he might blame it on another of Court 3's mysteries. I wonder just how many there are.
Cracking open the book, I bury myself in another world to avoid the constant throb in my mind to call out to him.
~!~
I'm less than halfway through the book when a figure pulls up a chair so close the wicker from his lounge chair scratches harshly against mine.
His mind is quiet. His sigh sounds different. His hand, held out to mine, is paler.
Jasper.
"Are you sure?" I ask before gripping his hand in mine. "You can't go back."
He nods but says nothing.
Slowly, our fists grip tightly as my recollections of Edward's memories spread like wildfire, lighting up everything Jasper's known.
It starts and stops within seconds, and he's changed forever.
Jasper pulls back and drops my hand like it's a piece of hot coal.
"No," he whispers. "No."
There's nothing to say, so I can only nod as he stands, kicking back the lounge chair in his haste. There's a waist-high glass barrier at the edge of the property separating us from the jagged cliffs below, and for just a second, I fear for Jasper as he rushes over to it.
He doesn't jump, though. Instead, he hangs his head over the side and vomits.
I'm next to him in a flash. With one hand on his back, the other gripping his arm, I rub in soothing circles as he heaves and coughs and literally spews his guts out. His stomach settles, but his chest still falters to maintain an even breath.
I can't say for sure what he's thinking, feeling, or warring with, but I can say it's wreaking havoc on every part of his body. Strong fingers grip the glass that splinters as he coughs, and my hand covers his to try and remove it. He's stronger than I am, though. Deeper cracking sounds splinter through the air as his grip tightens. A wet crunch echoes just as I'm able to peel his fingers away.
There's blood, but he's so far removed I know he doesn't feel it. Pulling my dress from my body, I wrap it around his hand tightly to stop the bleeding for now. There are no words I can say to make this better, and I'm not even sure I could form any in this current predicament.
Slowly I lead a tranced Jasper back into the house, through the living area, and into their wing of the house. Alice opens the door when she hears our footsteps.
"What happened?" she asks, taking Jasper's arm to assess.
"He wanted to know."
"How did this happen?" she asks, looking at the deep lacerations. "There's glass in here. We need Edward—"
"Edward needs to be alone," I say.
"He's the doctor. Jasper needs—"
"Get me some tweezers," I tell her, pulling Jasper into the bathroom for better lighting.
Alice scrubs a pair of tweezers clean and hands them to me. I've only done this once when I was twelve, and Jake stepped on a piece of glass. It was bleeding everywhere, and I could barely see the small shards, but I managed just fine then.
It takes less than five minutes to pull the thick glass from his palm, and just before I re-wrap his hand in a towel, Edward fills my mind.
Disinfectant.
I nod. Of course.
I rummage through the shelves until I find it, pour it over the lacerations, and wrap his hand.
"Now he's got an immobile arm and a cut-up hand," Alice notes. "If Royce shows up…" she trails off.
"Let's not think about that," I say softly. She's right, though. What if Royce does show up? What if he finds us somehow, and Jasper's got a wound on one hand and an immobile arm on the other? Edward isn't here. It would just be Alice and me.
Shaking my head to rid the thoughts, I soothe Alice's back as she tends to Jasper. Alice leads him to a couch on the far wall as I step out of their room.
There's a trail of blood leading from outside all the way to their room, so I gather supplies and scrub.
At first, it's just the trail, and then it's around the couch, and then it's under the kitchen table, and then it's everywhere.
It keeps me busy and my mind from wandering, so I'm more than willing. But after a while, my knees scream, my back aches, and sweat rolls off my skin.
I think about taking a shower, but the floors are soaked, so I decide on something totally different. My feet dip into the pool, and without thinking, I walk myself underwater until it's just my head that's visible.
The pool laps against my skin, the temperature cooling me instantly. It soothes my aching muscles and lulls me gently. Alice taught me how to swim during our time in Court 4. While I'm nowhere near ready to swim laps, I'm comfortable enough to stay afloat.
So that's what I do as I paddle my way slowly to the very edge of the pool that looks like it simply falls off the cliff. But it doesn't. Instead, it gives way to a breathtaking view of the enormously setting sun bordered with thick, dark clouds. It's rained in other Courts, but I've never seen clouds so angry.
I rest my elbows against the edge and look down. Rough boulders stick out all the way to the bottom, where the forceful beat of the ocean smooths the rocks.
I stay here and think about everything and nothing for so long that my skin wrinkles.
…Jasper and his mom, Edward and his past, Jake and his dad, the medicine Edward said he'd send Jake's dad, and if he ever did, the conversation with Aro. These are just a few things that distract me, and I can't help but wonder what happens next.
When I first met Alice, she told me about the story of Edward and Jasper's mom… that the Royals determined no laws had been broken. She obviously didn't know the full extent, and now that she does, it must be upsetting.
Jasper's own mother took advantage of his friend, raped him, and stole more from Edward than either Alice or Jasper could have ever imagined. Where do they go from here?
The first few raindrops scatter against my arms, pulling me from the deep thoughts I'm drowning in. Dried blood and cracked glass catch my attention to my left.
I balance on my back as raindrops fall into the pool, splashing like bullets around me. They're colder than the water surrounding me and send goosebumps over my skin. On my back, I watch for a while as the sky turns from beautiful blue to vengeful black. And when the power of the drops picks up, I make my way to the steps, gather my book, and head inside.
The floors are dry now save for my footprints as I hurry to my room where I shower and dress simply in a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt.
Still no Alice. Still no Jasper. Sill no Edward.
My belly growls, and I decide to busy myself with making dinner.
An hour later, all the ingredients for my mom's favorite soup are boiling away on the stove, and the only sound that settles within this house is the constant and steady beat of heavy rain.
~!~
I eat dinner alone. I clean up dinner alone. I retreat to my room alone.
There's a small lamp on the desk, and I sit down to read but can't concentrate for more than a page or two. When I've reread the same page three times, I close the book and stretch.
I grab a notebook and pencil to write my parents another letter, but nothing comes to mind.
And then, without thinking, it's his name I write.
Edward—
In small, feminine script, delicately written across the white page, I pour myself into words I'd say if he were here.
Telling your story wasn't easy; we both know that, and maybe no one's ever said this to you… but I'm proud of you, Edward. For everything.
For your bravery. For your trust even after it was stolen. For surviving.
You're stronger than you know.
Never let anyone make you feel differently.
You hate compassion, but it isn't always bad, Edward. Let people be there for you.
I once told you that your greatest strength is your weakness—I was wrong. But don't let your strength push others away.
You deserve the same happiness as everyone else. You deserve the happiness of a billion lifetimes full of love. Allow yourself that.
You are worthy, Edward.
You are enough.
I pause at the end, unsure how to sign. Sincerely? Your friend? Just my name? But then, without second-guessing, I scroll the only thing that makes sense.
With Love,
Belle.
I fold it in half, walk to his door, and slip it underneath.
~!~
Hours later, when the sun has finally set behind a swirled gray sky, and the moon crests high above the rainclouds, I find myself asleep atop the covers. The sound of feet down the hall wakes me slowly. His door opens and shuts softly, and then there's nothing. I smile, though, because he's safe.
I lie awake for the next few minutes, peacefully listening to the thunder crashing overhead move closer and closer towards us. I wonder where he's been, who he saw, and what he did, but I end my thoughts thankful that he's returned.
And then something happens to jolt me upright.
A thin, white vein lights up like a flash before disappearing. It makes the crack in the sky sound more harrowing and frightening than before. My heart beats a little faster, my breaths come in a little quicker, and I find myself pulling a pillow up under my chin.
For the first time in a long time, there's a fear that sits on my chest.
Then, a knock rattles against my door.
I know who it is before I open it, and when I do, my mouth hangs open slightly.
He's soaking wet, dripping all over the hardwood floor, creating a puddle between us. The same fancy clothes as before have now become a second skin. His eyes hold a sadness I've never seen, and his frown etches into his face as if it might never go away.
Edward looks like a man who's been hunted, haunted by his past. Unable to escape, yet free from the chains of silence… Alice and Jasper know everything.
"I just wanted to say goodnight," he says, opening then closing his mouth as if he has more but can't form the words. He turns on his heels and walks back to his room.
Acting on instinct, I follow him. He waits for me, too, knowing I wouldn't be far behind. When he shuts his door, it's just the two of us. There's thunder above but also within these walls. Edward takes the form of Death as he sits on his bed.
"Your clothes are soaked," I tell softly, wondering if he'll just snap himself into something dryer.
His only reply is to flip his wrist over and delicately unbuckle the leather strap of the watch he's wearing. I've never heard a louder silence.
"Where are your shirts?" I ask, walking to his dresser and pulling open the first drawer, the second, and the third.
Nothing. Only ties, dress socks, and boxers.
Where are your clothes? Maybe he can't find the energy to speak anymore tonight. Perhaps this is the only way he feels comfortable communicating.
Closet, he says backbefore a slew of other weird thoughts and memories slip through his block and shatter into me.
A dark bar, a blonde girl, her arm around his shoulders as she leans in for a hug. Empty streets, pink sand beaches, the gentle sound of waves as they lap against his body, and rain as it pounds into his slippery wet skin while he walks alone around town.
Misery—that's all here is—misery and guilt.
You were outside alone when you know Royce is out there?
I appreciate your worry.
I pull a white T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants from hangers before walking back into his room where he sits, hunched over, on his bed.
He looks dejected, upset, splintered. He looks as though he's been made to relive moments in life that he had no control over. He looks as though—
"Belle," he whispers painfully, eyes closed. "Please," he begs so quietly I almost don't hear.
Nodding my understanding, I walk over to where he sits on his bed, his eyes level with my stomach and practically begging for comfort. I run my fingers through his hair, something my mom used to do to comfort me as a child. Slowly, they move through the strands, nails scratching his scalp, fingers tugging at the ends.
He immediately pulls back, gripping my wrist roughly in his hand, and stares into me as though he wants to light me on fire. Ferocity stirs within those green eyes.
Immediately, I freeze. It tears me in two. There's malice I've never seen… and then it clicks.
Hatred steams from him, but it's not for me.
These eyes are for someone else.
Holding back tears, I beg him with my eyes to let go, and then with my words.
I tell him, with such purity it brings tears to my eyes, "I am not her."
Goosebumps erupt all over his skin, and I can feel them. His eyes brim, his body shakes, and he listens.
"I'm not her," I tell him again, braver. Nostrils flair at the same time shoulders slump. He hears me, so I continue. "She won't touch you again, Edward."
He lowers his eyes, places my hand back in his hair, and bows his head before me. The tough muscles on the back of his neck release little by little.
He has to know. Someone must tell him… she won't get him again. I'll make sure of that. She'll pay for what she did to him, how she still hurts him.
Strong hands grip my hips and pull my body to his. Thrown off my feet, I stumble closer. His face moves so he can rest his forehead against my stomach, just under my breasts. While he's close to a private area, this is far from sexual. This is complete and utter healing.
He's still, he's silent, and he's breathing, Edward holds me fiercely against him while I mend the broken, frayed, and raw wounds.
Silently, I comb through his hair. It's not long enough to knot, but I massage his scalp and pull at his strands as though it is. With his face hidden in my middle, the expanse of his soaked shirt builds and falls with every breath. I keep track of the number of breaths, noting as they slow and deepen. When this occurs, the grip on my hips also relaxes. But he never lets go completely.
I keep my block up, afraid what I'm thinking will set him off again. He must have his up as well because it's eerily silent in this room.
When his breaths return to normal, and his body begins to shiver, I pull back just a little. My palms slide down to his cup his cheeks, raising his face so I can see him. Soft, pale, agonizing.
"I am so fucking exhausted," he whispers, voice breaking, eyes slowly blinking as he stares up at me. I know he doesn't mean physically.
The chains she shackled him in are broken, but he's never really been free. The thought burns me up, tears me apart, and slices into my heart like a hot knife. He deserves affection, love, and ecstasy. He deserves happiness the same as everyone else… but she took that from him. So much of who he is makes sense now. His distaste for compassion, the lack of physical touching and affection, and his standoffish nature are all ingredients brewed and steeped to create him.
Thunder crashes loudly outside his window. The rain pours angrily against the glass ceiling. Court 3 isn't controlled by a magnet, but maybe by the intense emotions of others. Edward's current state would certainly fit that theory.
"Let's get you changed before you fall asleep. You're shivering."
He doesn't stop me as I kneel in front of him to better reach the buttons of his shirt. He doesn't help, just simply watches my fingers as they struggle to push slippery plastic through a small hole.
Finally, my fingers undo the bottom button, and I peel the shirt from his body. Allowing his skin time to dry, I walk over to the hamper and toss the soaked shirt inside. When I return to him, I kneel, this time taking in the sight before me. My eyes rake over his body—his strong chest, the hair on his pecs, and firm, taut muscles etched into his lower half look as though he's carved from marble. I can't help but swallow roughly.
And then I see it fully.
His tattoo.
Two short, thick lines etched in black across his right pectoral muscle.
Tallies.
A reminder of his bided time.
"One more left," Edward says, looking down to where I'm staring.
Swallowing hard, I shake my head free of any thoughts before he can read them. My hands toss the white cotton T-shirt over his head, and he slips his arms through the sleeves, pulling it down over the permanent reminder.
The Royals did this to him so he could never escape his past.
Edward lays back on his bed, scrubbing his hand over his face. I remind myself over and over and over to be quiet.
Stop. He can hear you. Think of anything else. Flowers. Sunshine. The moon. Reading under my tree in Court 5. The swimming pool. Touching my toes in the ocean.
His voice surprises me as he asks, "you want to swim in the ocean?"
"Eventually," I tell him, moving closer, nervous to help him with his pants.
"When?"
"Maybe when it's safer."
"Never safe around me," Edward manages to say slowly, almost like he's already asleep, but with the way he was just talking… there's no possible way that could be true.
He seems tired, though, so I figure I better get this over with. I'm sure he's soaking through his comforter by now.
After popping the button, I unzip his jeans slowly, and pull him gently toward me on the bed. He's too far up, and I'll never be able to get these off in his current position. His thick thigh muscles and the curve of his backside create barriers to successfully peeling these glued-on pants down his legs. I do what I have to. Grabbing behind his knees, I give a firm tug toward me that jolts his consciousness awake.
He's immediately sitting, his feet dangling off the bed, and pushing my head away forcefully. The hard smack of his palm against my forehead takes me by surprise. It doesn't hurt, but it's jarring.
"No," he says viciously, breathing fiercely through his nose.
But then he recognizes my eyes, my face, my hands as I sit back with my palms up in surrender.
"I'm so sorry." It spews out like vomit. It's the only thing I can think of saying. "I-I wasn't thinking—"
Another crash of thunder echoes as the room lights up with a bright white glow before darkening again.
Different memories of Jasper's mom on her knees in front of him, the top of her head as she takes his innocence away from him, her bare chest as she sits on his lap, his invisibly controlled arms, knuckles white as he tries and tries to pull against the restraints. And then my face in his mind. Long brown hair, doleful eyes, a trembling lip as he sneers down at me.
"Belle," he says, finally recognizing me and not her. "Fuck!" he roars louder than thunder, upset for losing himself in his demons.
"It's okay," I try and soothe, rubbing my hands on his kneecaps and the skin just above. "It's me, Edward. It's me. I'm not going to…" I trail off, blowing a long, pained breath through my lips. "I'm not going to touch you." My chin quivers as my voice cracks. It's hard to spit that out, to know that's what he's terrified of, and it kills me. "Your pants are soaked. We need to change them."
He nods, his body retreating as he leans forward to rest his head in his hands. At this moment, I decide being on my knees is not the best visual considering his past, so I stand and pause, unsure of what to do.
He surprises me, though. Edward grips my shirt and pulls me to him like moments before. His hands grasp both the fabric and skin at my hip in one handful, pulling me closer. It's nearing painful, which he must sense, because he loosens his fingers. And then he snakes his hands around my hips and pulls me in closer.
Edward sits straight up on his bed, pulling me in between his legs, hugging me.
His face finds itself just between my breasts, forehead against my chest bone, and like before, it's the opposite of sexual. He needs care and kindness right now.
He needs a friend.
"Thank you," he whispers into my skin, the palms of his hands sliding from my lower back up to my sides and back down. He grounds himself by caressing me. "Thank you."
After a moment or two, Edward takes a long breath and releases me.
Soft, he whispers to me.
What is?
You.
Are you calling me fat? I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
He shakes his head, glancing up at me, green eyes fill with exhaustion and melancholy. He's too tired to make jokes.
I gesture to his pants, and Edward lifts his hips and slides them off. After his pants are kicked off his ankles, I bend to help his feet into the legs of the pajama pants. Try as I might, I can't ignore the boxers that are practically painted on at this point, and the very prominent way they are filled out. I slam my block closed before I can even finish the thought. If Edward hears, he doesn't acknowledge it.
It's harder to help him into his pajamas from this standing position, but we work together, and finally, the only wet piece of clothing are his boxers… and I can't do anything about that.
Helping Edward into bed, fluffing the pillows around his head, seems to unwind him. My fingers find themselves in his hair again, and I pull back when I notice. He closes his eyes and sighs softly.
"Stay," he whispers. "Please?"
How can I say no to him in such a fragile state.
"For a little bit," I reply.
I sit next to him, propped up by the headboard and pillows, my legs outstretched. He mirrors my pose, but I encourage him to lay down. He looks too tired to stay up, but he ignores my protests.
Thunder crashes overhead as the room lights up in bright white again. And then the only sounds are the sharp drops of rain against the glass.
"Welcome to your first lightning storm," Edward whispers next to me. We're so close, our shoulders and legs touch. His hand finds its way to my bare thigh, fingers splaying naturally. I cover his hand with my palm to keep him there.
Together we share a sensitivity that each of us needs. He shows me gratitude for caring for his home, tending to his sister and Jasper, and holding it together. I show him sympathy for facing his demons, confronting them after so long, and telling his truth.
"Lightning," I whisper, staring up at the glass ceiling. It's dark, but I can still see the white veins in the sky as they crack through clouds and electrify the city. Before, when I didn't know, it was terrifying. Now, after Edward's explanation, it's wonderous. I smile when I catch two happening at the same time; one brighter than the other, but both equally as powerful. And then a rumble of thunder so loud it shakes the walls.
"Beautiful," he whispers.
I glance over at him and smile with a nod. "It is," I say honestly.
"You," he corrects, green eyes lighter now. "You are beautiful, Belle."
A blush spreads so raw and rosy it feels like flowers bloom right out of my skin. My entire body heats. Edward doesn't smirk, or smile, or laugh. He barely even blinks. In the darkness of his room, lit only by cracks of lightning overhead, Edward consumes me so wholly it's as though I belong to him completely—like his name is etched across my skin in a Royal tattoo.
And then he burrows down in his bed, stuffs a pillow under the side of his face, and yawns. A long, heavy arm drapes around my waist and pulls me into his body. He throws me off-center, so I'm more on my side than my back. Our bodies face each other now, but he's slumped further down the bed.
"Will you do that again?" he asks sleepily, tickling his fingers against the bare skin of my back.
"Hm?"
"Your fingers in my hair," he clarifies.
I nod slowly. "Of course."
His head presses under my breasts, against my stomach, shoved up by the pillow he has pressed to his chest. I feel slightly embarrassed by the way his face firmly pushes into my problem area, but I let it go for tonight. He needs this.
I use all my fingers to massage his scalp, comb his hair, and ease him into sleep. Just as I disengage and try to leave, Edward asks, "tell me something?"
"What do you want to hear?"
"Anything."
"Like what?" I ask.
He sounds better, more coherent, but exhausted.
"I want to know everything, Belle."
I giggle. The shaking of my body causes my belly to press into his face even more.
"You know more than I do, Edward. You tell me something."
Edward shakes his head while his hand finds its way to the curve of my hip. It's warm even through my clothes and sends tingles across my skin.
"No. I want to know everything about you," he clarifies. "What's your favorite memory?"
That's easy. I send him a memory of my mom and dad teaching me to ride my bike without training wheels for the first time. After about a million tries and a million crashes, I hopped back on and peddled my heart out. I made it a few yards away before I skidded on the dusty road and skinned my elbow. My mom had to drag me back into the house.
"You're brave," he tells me.
I shrug. "I was a kid then."
"You're brave now." When I don't respond, he asks, "what's your plan?"
"Plan for what?"
"Life."
I scoff. "What's your plan?"
He scoffs right back. His hand trails up my hip to the dip in my waist, and across my back. He pulls me into him tighter.
"This seems pretty nice," he says honestly. "I plan to do this again."
"Yeah?" I laugh. "You better make sure your future wife likes to cuddle."
"I mean with you."
It stings when it shouldn't. His words mean I won't be his future wife. And to be honest, chances are I won't be.
I cover up my hurt with a scoff. "Who says I'll let you?"
"I can be pretty convincing," he counters, but I can tell he's smirking.
His charm gets to me, and I smile. My fingers tug at the roots of his hair.
"I plan to find whichever Court suits me, become a teacher, and await my Soul Bond letter."
He nods. "So, you don't plan to kiss anyone?"
I shrug. "Guess I never thought about it."
"And you'll trust the Royals to match you with someone just as spectacular as you?"
It takes a moment for me to answer, but I eventually whisper a soft, "yes."
His silence fills up the room.
"What about you?" I ask.
"I have no choice," he says. "I'm at their mercy. Unfortunately for my Mate, she'll be tied to me and my mistakes forever."
"What mistakes?"
"You saw the tattoo. I only have one more chance."
"Edward?"
"Yes?"
"If I ask you something, would you promise to answer honestly?"
"No."
Ask me here, Lovely. It's the only way.
A spark of lightning and a rumble of thunder fill the silence.
Okay but just… let me finish before you answer. We both like each other, right? And there's definitely a pull or something happening between us. Why won't you… I trail off, losing my nerve.
Ask me, Belle. I want to hear it.
Why won't you try with me?
He's silent now. His heart beats between us, but mine races faster. Fingers tighten on my hip before loosening and gliding up my shirt to the middle of my back. He's warm and soft leaving goosebumps in his wake.
Finally, he answers. I will only hurt you, Belle… and you are far too precious for that. Seeing you cry… it will kill me.
Can't we even try? Or have fun in the meantime? All this seems wasted…
All what?
I inwardly roll my eyes. Now he's being purposely dense. Tell me you don't feel this, Edward. Tell me this is all in my head, and I'll be gone. Tell me this isn't real to you.
He wastes no time. I have never felt anything as real as this, Belle. If what you mean by 'all this' is the pull, the attraction, the flirting, then we can certainly... what did you say?... have fun. His voice lilts at the end, inferring something totally different.
Edward, I didn't mean that. I mean… I don't know! Now you've got me all flustered.
I quite enjoy when you are flustered. I feel the smirk of his lips pull against my clothes.
Promise me something, Edward?
Anything, Belle.
Promise to show me every beauty and magic Court 3 has to offer.
I can absolutely do that. Tell me a secret, Belle.
I want to kiss you.
He doesn't respond, and I say nothing further. It's out there, open and raw, and he can do with it what he pleases. Alice asked me not to kiss him, but the truth is, if he were to place his lips upon mine right this very second, I'd do nothing less than coat his skin with mine. I'd pull him to me, open my lips, and allow him to take anything he'd like. He's so afraid of breaking me that I don't think he realizes he's going to anyway.
Denying me will also hurt. It hurts right now.
How much more can I put myself out there, be rejected, and still try?
~!~
The next morning, I wake with a start. I'm back in my bed, unsure how I returned here, and the blaring alarm from the nightstand makes me flinch.
It takes me longer to get ready this morning than ever before. I'm nervous for field observations in Court 3.
I curl my hair, layer on makeup, and dress in a tight pencil skirt and loose blouse with a silk bow around the collar. I find a mid-height heel and make my way out into the kitchen, where everyone else stands around quietly.
Edward's looking over Jasper's hand. Jasper's looking anywhere but at Edward. Alice's drowning herself in a bowl of cereal.
… Until she sees me.
And then her eyes are twice as big, and her jaw literally drops.
"Royals. Have. Mercy," she gapes.
Alice looks more stunning than I do, but I'd expect nothing less from her. Me, though? It's one of the first few times I've felt like I deserved this—deserved leveling up, deserved being in Court 3, deserved the gifts I've been bestowed.
"Alice," I say, blushing at her tone.
I look over to Edward, who's biting back a smile as he rewraps Jasper's hand in gauze.
"Ride or Split to observations today?" Edward asks, walking over towards me after he finishes.
He's dressed in gray slacks and a black button-up shirt. The black watch from yesterday is back around his wrist. He looks renewed, refreshed, like yesterday never happened.
"Split," I tell him. "We're already running late."
"I can do it," Alice says.
Edward looks directly at me. "Aro ordered that I see to it Belle gets everywhere safely."
I nod my head while Alice rolls her eyes.
"Fine. See you later, Belle," she says, snapping and disappearing.
Edward turns to Jasper. "Take the medication every two hours. I will be back at lunch to check in."
Jasper nods but doesn't look at him.
Edward doesn't grab my wrist or my hand today. Instead, he stands so close, hand on my lower back, and pulls me into his body.
He snaps, and we're outside a tall, cream-colored building.
"I'm nervous," I tell him honestly.
Even with the heels, he still towers over me.
"You are paired with Garrett. He is a friend of a friend. I've instructed that he watch over you. I recommend you not bring up the Royce situation," Edward says, and I simply nod.
It will not come across this way, but Garrett is even less fond of the Royals than I am.
Didn't think that was possible.
You can imagine his intense dislike then. Enjoy yourself, Belle. I'll see you after.
When he's gone, I turn to the building, take a breath, and walk inside.
~!~
It is absolutely magnificent; there are floors and walls made of marble, with extremely tall ceilings and ornate chandeliers. Garrett shows me around, discusses the curriculum, and explains that the entire floor he works on is comprised of instructors given the same pilot course as me. Each teaches a single subject, and each must report their findings after every quarter to the Royals. He explains the smaller class sizes, the ideologies, and the resources that Court 3 is given.
He praises the Royals every so often, talking about how wonderful they are to the students here and what they offer everyone.
I simply nod and smile, giving him nothing at all.
The students are snooty, but they're manageable.
"Are you Bonded?" he asks towards the end of the day.
"I'm not. Are you?"
He nods. "Recently. I turn twenty-one next week, so I'm lucky enough to find someone naturally. Yours will come."
I shrug. "I'm not worried about it. Did you say you're only twenty? That's so young to be considered for supervising field observations, right? The other teachers I've been with were older… well, except Jane. But she—"
"Yes, I know Jane. I, too, had her for my observations. Wonderful teacher, don't you think?"
"Oh, yes," I say honestly. "Jane had some great insight."
"Indeed," Garrett says with a twinkle in his eye.
We finish the rest of the day grading tests and discussing Court 3 education laws before Edward Splits into the classroom.
"Edward, you're early—" I start, but Garrett stands and smiles in excitement.
Edward returns the sentiment. Gone are the etchings of anguish from last night. Today, he's all smiles and charm.
"Are you with Belle?" Garrett asks.
"I am."
"Kate never—"
"Kate does not know."
"Oh, Edward," Garrett starts. "You are playing with fire."
"If you do not tell her, she will not know."
"You're asking I keep a secret from my Mate?" Garrett counters.
"No. I am simply asking you not to bring it up. If the subject matter does not come up, Kate will never ask."
I'm lost in their secret conversation, but it seems like everything pans out when Garrett claps Edward on the back,.
"Are you ready, Belle? I would like to show you some of Court 3's beauty," Edward says, stepping closer to take me in. He smiles and offers me his hand.
"Should I change?" I ask, looking down at my extremely formal attire.
"When we arrive," Edward says with a nod.
"See you tomorrow," Garrett says with a smile. He appears to have warmed up much more after realizing I know Edward.
Edward snaps his fingers, and we're at the bottom of a mountain. Green moss, dirt, and dampness spread around us. Before I can say anything, he snaps again, and I'm dressed in much more relaxed clothing. A tight t-shirt, a pair of knee-length workout pants, and some sneakers. It takes a moment to notice the one-piece swimsuit underneath the clothes He's dressed in athletic shorts and a loose T-shirt.
"This is Agway," he says. "One of three mountains with a spectacular surprise. Not many can reach the destination, so it is almost always barren. There is a two-mile hike uphill, but it is worth it, I promise."
Edward leads the way. He holds back branches and warns me to step over large rocks jutting out of the mountain. He breaks when I need to catch my breath. He holds my hand and helps me over muddy pits of dirt.
Eventually, we make it to our destination. A break in the trees leads to a magnificent body of water surrounded by tall trees and is private to almost anyone hiking nearby. The lake is so clear that every piece of life underneath its surface can be seen. It's like looking through glass.
"There are three of these on the island. Each one is named after a sister," he says, peeling off his shirt and kicking off his shoes. He motions for me to do the same. "Court 3 contains a mountain with three tall peaks. The story goes that long before citizens of the Royal Court roamed these lands, the Lark sisters controlled all. They watched out for others, saw to it that justice was served appropriately, but let the citizens of the land be free. There was a war between the sisters and a very powerful man who placed a spell on the sisters."
"Why did he put a spell on them?" I ask, pulling the shirt from my body and slipping my pants off quickly before he can see.
"The Lark's cursed him by making him infertile. Their magic was actual magic. They were witches, and the powerful man was a warlock," he explains, walking slowly into the water. I follow him in, noting how glorious it feels against my skin. "History says the warlock's son set fire to the Lark's house. In doing so, the son killed the youngest sister, Agatha, who was pregnant at the time. The warlock was furious, so he borrowed power from every single other warlock, banishing the remaining two sisters to these mountains. Each year, Court 3 celebrates the warlock for ridding the land of the three witches."
"Well, that's kind of sad," I say, walking with him into the water far enough that I can barely keep my feet on the soft ground. The water glistens like oil and coats my skin softly. I rub it between my fingers. The further we step, the warmer the water becomes.
"Not everyone attends the celebration at The Plaza. Those who favor and side with the witches… they celebrate up on the mountains."
"What happens there?" I ask.
He grins wickedly before asking, "would you like to find out?"
I return his smile, but I'm too afraid to answer.
"Your last field observation is Friday. Aro has approved another seven days after that. The celebrations occur next Wednesday. Please consider it, Belle. I'd love for you to accompany me."
"Accompany… like… like a date?"
He looks at me, green eyes open and willing to try. "Is that what you wish?" he asks, voice dipping low as he moves his body closer to mine as we float in the water.
"Is that what you wish?" I ask him, returning his words.
"I wish to make you happy," he says honestly.
I return his smile and turn in the water, looking away. "Hm," I tease. "I'll have to check my schedule and let you know."
The height of my smile burns my cheeks but pulls higher as he laughs beautifully at my side.
~!~
Edward and I stay until the sun dips in the sky. He helps me out of the water and snaps us into dry clothes before I even have time to ogle him.
On the way back down the mountain, he explains the health benefits of the water, the vitamins within, and the reason why it leaves the skin so soft. I won't lie; I tune him out after he starts using big words to explain the benefits of specific vitamins.
"I have ordered the four of us dinner. When we arrive, you should shower. Prolonged exposure to the water from the lake could potentially reverse the effects of the Woodrose," Edward explains before splitting us back to his home, where Alice and Jasper sit around the table.
I run quickly to my shower, scrub vigorously, and dress in a pair of silk pajamas. When I return to the table for dinner, Alice and Jasper are already eating.
"I couldn't wait," Alice says with a mouthful of food. "I haven't eaten all day, and this food smelled so good."
I smile in acknowledgement, letting her know it's no big deal.
Edward hands me a plate and passes me the takeout containers.
"Don't you ever cook?" I ask, taking note that while his plate is full, he hasn't touched his food.
"Sometimes," he says with a shrug.
When I pick up the fork to eat, Edward does the same thing.
Were you waiting for me?
He doesn't outwardly acknowledge me, but inwardly he says, any respectable person waits for all guests to arrive before eating.
How very gentlemanly, Edward.
He smiles across the table from me and bows his head, inviting me to eat. I pierce a piece of chicken with my fork and glance over at him. He's done the same. My smile matches his, and I can't help the small giggle that escapes my lips as he waits for me to take my first bite.
"Royals, you two are so annoying with your mind talks," Alice teases with a roll of her eyes.
Jasper's eyes volley between Edward and me. He wants to say something, I can see it on his lips, but he stops. Alice doesn't say much else to us; instead, talking about her time during field observations. Her day sounds similar to mine, except her teacher is not as kind. She and Jasper excuse themselves a few moments later. I nod a goodnight, but Edward doesn't take his eyes off me. It's unnerving in the best way possible.
I'm electric under his stare. Every fiber of my being pulls in his direction.
"Do you have a lot to work on tonight, Belle?" Edward asks easily.
I shrug. "Not tonight, no. Garrett said not to overwhelm myself with studying, but we both know I will."
Edward nods in agreement. "When you are finished, please meet me outside on the private patio. I would enjoy another conversation with you."
He stands and smiles, clearing our plates as we've finished.
"O-okay," I stutter, taken aback.
He wants to spend more time with me? I mean, I guess it's not a total shock… I am a guest in his home for the next little while, after all. Did I think there wouldn't be conversations?
Edward comes closer, towering over me. My neck strains as it bends to stare up at him. Soft fingers cup my face, his thumb caressing my cheekbone. My face curls in closer, yearning for his touch. And then, daringly, fingers drift lower. His thumb glides down my face until it drags across my lips. My bottom lip catches his thumb, and it pulls my lips apart.
He stops.
I stop.
He looks at me.
I look at him.
And then he pulls it down further so that he can feel my breath against the pad of his thumb. My fingers circle his wrist, keeping him there, before traveling up his arm. With his free hand, Edward takes my hand in his and places it over his heart, holding it there with his palm. Hand to heart, he makes me feel the beat of life under his bones.
The intensity continues as green eyes sparkle passionately. The tenderness shared between us lights my ankle on fire.
There is an intimacy in being understood, Edward says, still staring. His thumb still pressed against my plump bottom lip. The other four fingers sort of curl around my neck gently.
We understand each other, I tell him dumbly, unsure what to say.
He smiles genuinely. We absolutely do, Belle.
After this intense moment, he backs away and lets me stand before him. I want to hug him, but I don't. That might be too much too soon… I'm not sure how he feels about the intimacy of hugging, especially after what I learned last night. He didn't mind touching in any other way, but when I got on my knees and—
"Take your time, Belle, but I will be waiting," he says as we walk the short distance back to our doors.
Inside my room, I slump against the door and close my eyes.
Although it is no longer pressed against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart still beats against my hand.
~!~
For the next hour, I bury myself in my notes, rereading what Garrett taught me countless times. It's futile, so I close my notebook and get my stuff ready for tomorrow. After placing my books in my bag and cleaning up my study area, I find a piece of paper sitting under my books.
My name is scrawled beautifully on a thick piece of paper.
Lovely Belle—
In my life, no other human has shown me such a kindness as you. It is currently lunchtime, and upon my arrival home, I found your note on my floor.
I am not sure when you wrote it last night, but I must confess I will keep it forever. Your wisdom, your heart, your compassion… those are my favorite things about you, Belle.
There is a gentleness in you that I will never understand but I will always admire. You see the world in shades and dimensions that no one else comprehends. You are truly and extraordinarily unique.
You have undoubtedly put the color back into my world. All of those things you called me in your letter—brave, strong, worthy… I am those things because of you.
I do not know how to thank you, but I will try, for whatever time I have you, to show my appreciation for all the wonderful things you have bestowed upon me.
Yours always,
Edward
It brings tears to my eyes. His kind words, the kind he can only write on paper, warms down my arms, my legs, into my nailbeds, up through my veins, spreading like wildfire across my nerves.
The connection strengthens as I stand and go to him. He's already on the patio, his back to me as he stands on the black and white tile ground, staring up into the inky sky surrounded by colored gas, galaxies full of life, and a moon as bright as the sun.
"Midnight sun," he says without turning around. "That is what it is called here. When the moon is so bright, like a spotlight, it is called a midnight sun."
I notice a gentle melody playing in the background over speakers in the corner. It's light, soft, and slow. It's a piano and another instrument I can't recall the name of.
"Remember when you told me you weren't the sun, you were the moon?" I ask, walking up next to him, staring at him as he gazes above.
"I do."
"If that's true, then that is the kind of moon you are," I say quietly, slipping my hand into his, studying his profile.
There's been a shift between us. It's more than friends but I can't quite put my finger on it. Perhaps we're undefinable. I do know one thing for certain— this is more than anything we were anticipating.
Edward finally pulls his gaze from the sky to look down at me. His fingers curl around mine, and his smile sends butterflies fluttering around my belly.
"I wanted to thank you for last night," he says with a soft, even tone. "I appreciate your politeness regarding my… situation."
"It wasn't a big deal—"
"It was," he says, cutting me off. "It was a big deal… to me."
I get it now.
Smiling, I nod. "Of course, Edward," I say softer than ever, bowing my head.
His eyes look panicked for a moment, like he's transported back to last night where his memories and feelings and thoughts bound him to a place so deep and dark it scared me. But then the familiar green sparkles back at me, and he smiles before squeezing my fingers in his.
He doesn't let go.
For quite some time, we stand together, staring up at the twinkling, mysterious sky, sharing thoughts and memories, asking questions, and getting to know each other in the privacy of our own thoughts.
When we quiet down, and the conversation ebbs, I ask, "is this you playing?"
The music slows to a delicate melody full of highs and lows, a loving beat, a beautiful tune.
He nods. "A friend of mine plays the violin, which is the other instrument in the background. He combined his song with mine and created what you hear now."
"It's beautiful," I tell him.
"Indeed."
And then I stare up at him and daringly ask, "would you like to dance?"
Edward turns toward me, his fingers still entwined with mine. "I do not dance, Belle."
He smiles sadly down at me, disappointed in himself for denying such a wish, but I simply shrug it off.
"It's okay." Quickly, I look away, not wanting him to see the regret in my eyes. "I understand if you're too scared," I tease, trying to recover my pride.
He chuckles low, shaking his head.
A quietness falls over us before Edward does something that surprises me. He drops my hand before placing both arms around my neck. Rich cologne and heat fill my nostrils as my cheek brushes against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. My ear rests above where his heart beats, and I follow the steady rhythm.
He pulls back, glances down at me, and presses the softness of his lips against my forehead. When he pulls away, I feel the wanton lust for more. If he senses it, he ignores it. We stand together, under the midnight sun, pressed against each other in an intimacy I've been craving.
"Thank you for your letter," he tells me after a while, his lips at my ear.
I've had my eyes closed this whole time, and it's now that I realize we're still standing still, listening to the music, enjoying the closeness of our bodies.
"I meant every word," I whisper.
"As did I."
I don't know how long we stand here breathing into each other. It could be minutes; it could be hours… it could be a lifetime.
When we break apart, his eyes beg for more, but I can almost hear the war between his mind and heart.
He's still figuring this out, and as much as I know what I want, I can't force Edward into anything. We walk closely back to our doors. There, Edward follows me into my room.
He sits on my bed, and he does the most surprising thing of all. He opens up.
"I was seventeen when it first happened," he says, pained.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," he says somberly. When I nod my understanding, he continues. "I was not a virgin, and she knew this. Witches cannot control virgins; it is against their inherit rules. She drugged me at first, slipping concoctions into my drinks or food. Those memories are hazy. But then she found a new spell to keep me awake but restrained, and she used that for the better part of a year. Some memories are hazy still; some come back as though I live them every day. The nightmares only happen when I visit Court 4, the closer I am to her, but they do not bother me too much anymore. The thing that—" he stops abruptly, tugging at the ends of his hair.
I decide to sit next to him, to place my hand on his back in a friendly manner, to encourage his admissions. He leans into the touch.
"The thing that absolutely enrages me the most is that my body—" his voice cracks through the emotion. "My body betrayed me. As much as I tried, I could not control it. She took that power from me."
My palm glides up and down his back slowly, steadily, as he divulges. Seething anger and disgust spit from his mouth as he curses her in colorful language. He continues to describe what she did, how she did it, and his body's reactions.
"I would just sit there, unable to do anything, as she would—" he stops short, huffing a breath. "She would take me into her body-," he stops and breathes before beginning again. "She would ride me, and my body felt pleasure, Belle. How disgusting is that?"
I shake my head. "It's a natural response," I try to explain. Honestly, I don't know what to say, but his pause indicates he's looking for something. "Your … you know … your body didn't know what was going on the way your mind did … it just … reacted."
"The thing that nauseates me the most is that my body was able to climax. How fucked up is that?"
I shake my head. "Edward, it's not. You're the one who told me sex is natural. Your body was doing what it's supposed to, right?" It absolutely kills me to say the word—sex— but this is about him right now, not about my inability to talk about intercourse.
He shakes his head. "I am vile, and repulsive, and filthy, Belle. You should not want me."
"Is that why you're telling me all this—to push me away so I won't want you, Edward?" His silence is answer enough. "Listen to me. You are not the vile, repulsive, filthy person, she is. What she did to you was not your choice. Your body reacted naturally; there is no blame or disgust in that. I see you no differently after what you've just shared with me. You cannot blame yourself for what she did to you."
"I do."
"How can I help?"
He glances up at me and smiles sadly. "You cannot."
The conversation fizzles out, but he stays.
All night.
And when I wake the following day, he's on top of the covers facing me. Soft, warm breaths through his nose spread across my face. There's a vulnerability in sleeping with someone without sleeping with them. Fully clothed, I'm under my covers curled around his sleeping form.
For just a few moments, I take him in. The sharpness of his jaw, the stubble on his chin, the long lashes that flutter as his eyes open. And his morning smile with tired eyes.
…Then comes the realization that for the second night in a row, we've slept in the same bed.
a/n: Thank you to Fran for beta-ing. All mistakes are my own post-beta!
Surprised this happened already? How do you think Jasper will react? Is he ever going to accept what happened to Edward? What do you think about the relationship between Edward and Belle? What was your favorite part? Any predictions?!
Thank you so much for the love on this story. The overwhelming support surprises me every single time I post.
AND TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I WANT THEM TO KISS JUST AS BADLY AS YOU... some many times I've had to stop writing because one of them took over and nearly spoiled the plot!
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