A/N: Exciting to read your reactions. Thanks for reading! xoxo. This man truly is unapologetic about what he is, and he marches to the beat of his own drum. Maybe Bella is the weird one lol.
Chapter 17 - Fireflies
The Fourth of July comes quickly. All month, Bella visited Edward, but she's also given him time to himself. When she is there, she asks all the questions that come to mind. Some he never answered, but the few he did, she wrote them down furiously in her room. She's eager. With all the information she's gleaned, she'll begin a search, the breadcrumbs of his past life. It's all she wants to do during the winter.
Just the thought that he's seen her purple room surprised her with wondrous feelings, nowhere near odd ones. It's a shared knowledge now; his space and hers. She makes sure to hide the notes of mysteries well, just in case.
For now, Bella and the crew find the thrill of each other's company. The night of Independence Day, they gather around the fire pit to drink beers they had snuck in coolers or inside soft drink bottles and make their fingers sticky with marshmallows by the fire.
Ben strums the guitar and the twins from the north cabin giggle. He loves the attention, especially when one of them slaps the other's hand off his arm to replace it with hers.
Jen is her brooding, angry self as she tilts her head back toward the starlit sky to chug on a bottle. Bella pulls it out of her hand to keep it a good yard away. Jen's eyes derail from staring at Lauren and her stupid Riley ... it's more than she can stomach. That couple can't keep from whispering to themselves and cozying up just a little bit closer.
Bella rolls her eyes. If she had the choice, she would be with Edward now.
Yeah, Edward. That fits him.
Every moment she's curious to know what he's doing. She's surprised she finds herself missing him when she's far. She laughs to herself because that's the last thing he'd ever feel when she's not around. She doesn't care. She's hooked and headlong. Her secret is just too overwhelmingly thrilling.
She looks around, everyone having and living life, all while a stranger isolates himself in a space he's kept for so many years. It makes the world feel big to her. The thought that so many oddities occur in their midst and they have no idea what they are or what they mean.
She holds this secret with her, and at times feels like she might burst. She could yell at the top of her lungs for the world to stop and know that there is more, so much more out there than these silly arguments about boyfriends, girlfriends, applications, and prom.
She wants to go and search the ends of the earth and find people like Edward to know how their insides work and why. She wants to do for him, not for herself. She wants more than this group of silly kids who think this is what life is all about.
The town continues to talk. Every day there are new signs, new clues to find this mysterious person who takes. And all the while, Bella keeps her entire being silent. She warns him of plans, and he keeps away.
She looks over at Jameson. He's gentle. Kind. He doesn't deserve this. He glances at her and smiles at Ben's antics. He's oblivious. He doesn't know he sits by a girl who has plans. Who's dying inside to be with someone else. He doesn't know he's losing her just incrementally.
But their shoulders meet anyway. Smiles come softly, as does his embrace when he tucks her in closely. She watches him now and feels this guilt. She says nothing. He doesn't seem to notice enough to ask. Their coupling isn't the latest news in school anymore; marriage status equals boring.
But they eye one another. He's thinking how he'll be so far away at college and still keep up with her. Should he? He doesn't know. He loves her. That's all he knows. House. Kids. Family. He'd offer it all. Medical school is what keeps his stomach in butterflies. He wonders when the feeling she put there was replaced with a focused career choice. It has to mean something.
She's thinking of nothing but Edward.
They don't know they'll soon grow up quickly, make hard decisions they never thought they'd need to make at their age. And everything that is perfect at this moment will change.
Simultaneously they look away and take a sip of their drink. Their thoughts lost in what ifs.
Fireworks blaze the sky. Everyone is animated and loud. Partly because of the colors, but mostly because handling and buying fireworks is legal in this state. The guys have a field day setting up runs and shopping for the perfect ones to show off. Some hardcore fans hand make them.
Bella shuffles to her mother's side not really interested. Like magnets, they lean into one another, heads tilted inward, and they watch the colorful fire as they sit on beach chairs.
Renee hasn't been feeling her regular self these days. Maybe that's why she hasn't been on Bella's ass about her odd behavior. Never has she encountered Bella waking up early on summer days. Her schedule is sleep until noon and saunter out to plop herself at the kitchen table and hold her head for an hour. Definitely hungover. Renee speaks especially loud those days and loves it.
Now she notices Bella prepping food in Tupperware and waking up before her own mother decides to roll out of bed. Bella's room is tidy and neat, bed made and clothes put away.
Renee suspects it isn't for Jameson. His mother cooks him anything he wants. It just doesn't fit.
But Bella is calm, different. Renee watches her and hopes her partying days are over. She's worried for her daughter. The girl is too alive, too curious in ways that could get her in trouble. But, she's calm, different now. So she hopes. She hopes.
"I want you in early, you hear me?" she says to Bella. "Some rumors of this Sheriff sending armed watchmen to camp out in the woods."
Bella knits her brows. "Why?"
"That thief. The hermit. They figure he'll rampage tonight, so they're staking out."
Bella's stomach flips. Renee looks at her quizzically.
"And Bella," she adds at the last second. "Please be careful. I know you're up to something. It's … different. That's okay, but, you have to protect yourself, and you have to think of the feelings of others."
"What does that mean?" Bella is put off. Why does truth set a heart afire so quickly?
"You're my kid, I know you well. You hanker down on what you want and push everything in your way to get there."
Bella thinks. "Is that bad?"
Renee quirks her lips. "No. But It's a skill. A skill you do very well above all things. So you … forget about the big picture."
And what's the big picture? Bella asks herself when she walks away. She rolls her eyes. Why do moms have the power to deflate all of your excitement?
She passes by a cabin and sees Riley and Jen having a heated altercation. Jen walks away, he goes after and spins her toward him to kiss her. Jen and Riley are passionate in the shadows. The big picture is this; Bella isn't in tune to people's deep feelings. Jen was dying inside, and she wasn't there for her friend. Maybe she's not really seeing Edward for what he truly is either. He is what he is, and that perspective isn't going to change even over all her skepticism.
When she finds him, she sees the utmost happiness painted on his usually blank face. He's lounging on his back, looking up at the night sky. His fingers moving gently before him, like the sky is a canvas and he's creating.
She dares to lie back beside him. She sees what he sees.
"Wow," she breathes.
Fireflies float above them. They're like Christmas lights that were strung up over the clearing around trees. So many of them. It's a celebration here.
He catches one on a knuckle. It flies away just as quickly. "My fireworks. Every year, it doesn't fail," he says. He falls into conversation now without her prying.
She turns her head to stare at his profile.
He's beautiful.
His eyes roam around under his frames, and they light up with a soft glow the fireflies give off. He looks over at her. He softly grins as he tries not to blush.
"I'm sorry," she says.
He stares for a moment. His brows scrunch.
"I can be overbearing. I push," she explains.
He watches her cower into herself.
"It's all right," he answers back. They stare up at the fireworks. She traces the sky the same hoping to catch one on a knuckle, too.
Her hand bumps against his. She catches it before there are any bashful apologies. She presses her palm to his. His is larger; fingers bend over her fingertips.
He holds his breath. He's trying to think of a time when he was touched like this.
"I just … can't help it. I'm overwhelmed. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me or will ever happen to me. Finding you."
"Your experiment," he suggests with a smirk. He's looking away. At their hands. Interlaced.
Bella is mortified. She props herself on an elbow. "No. Never. Please. That's not what I meant. You're—"
He looks over at her. His eyes stopping her from fumbling further. "I understood what you meant," he says. She relaxes. They watch one another. His eyes never drop down to her lips like Jameson's would; a subtle sign of permission.
She hopes.
She settles back in place, this time she's tucked close against him.
"Well, you've gotten better. You can look at me now."
"Better? I guess it's an achievement."
"Well, you know. You'd shy away. You're intellectual. The way you speak. Thousands of books in that brain of yours. Yet, you simply didn't … look."
"The face. It's too much. It's loaded with information. Eyes say a lot," he explains.
She looks up at him from his shoulder. She wonders if he knows what her eyes are saying now.
"Aren't you all gathered loudly tonight to … slaughter a cow for burgers and burn your fingers off with fireworks? You always do," he says.
"You're asking why I'm here?" she laughs.
"No. Well, technically, yes."
"Well, Mom cooked and Dad barbequed. That's about it," she says.
"Is that where the food comes from? The containers you bring?" He wonders idly.
She smiles. "I mean, I don't cook. That's all Mom's."
He humphs. No wonder he enjoys the meals. The delicious source comes from the lady in that cabin with the swing who he's always been partial to. He keeps that to himself.
Bella gets to the point. "They're looking for you tonight, armed and hiding. They figured you'd go all out."
He's quiet for a moment. "That's exactly why I wouldn't do such things on a night like this. Besides, how could I miss all of this?" He gestures toward the fireflies.
Yes, how could she miss all of this?
"But now you're here and in potential danger walking around the woods alone. That was … unnecessary and irresponsible," he reprimands. His hand slips off hers to rest on his chest.
She suddenly feels ridiculous. Why is she here?
"Oh," she says. "I was planning to leave quickly. I just wanted to warn you." She stands and straightens her skirt.
He can't help but glance at how soft it looks around her legs as it sways. He sighs and looks away.
She quickly makes it out of the clearing. Her heart all stirred. Then, she feels him behind her. Without fail, he comes close to escort her just like every time she leaves. The difference now is his hand catches her arm and guides her back.
"Not tonight," he says beside her. "You came here, you'll leave when it's light out, or you'll get lost." A bite to his words. She sings inside. She hides a smile so hard and basks in the warm feeling and nervous flutters.
Renee's warning rings in her ears about being in early, but it's not like Bella never broke her rules. Bella hasn't visited at night since she found Edward. Paths look different. She almost lost her way coming here. But she came. She needed to be here.
He shuffles around, doing this or that. Maybe he's a little nervous himself, but mostly mad. He saw her go and almost let her. It's not his problem. She's not his problem. She came. He didn't ask her to, but maybe he's overwhelmed, too, just like she described. She made him feel with that touch alone. He didn't like it.
He grunted to himself. He jumped up and ran after her. He couldn't live with himself if something were to happen to this insidious girl.
Now what? He'll sleep on the ground tonight. She can have the bed. He never once had to be a gentleman around a female. Maybe back then, in school. But now … now what?
"Come," he orders her. It's dark, and he's tired.
She hears his sharp tone. Once she sees where he's leading her, she doesn't let it intimidate her, because finally, finally, she'll see what's inside the tent. Her steps are swift and light.
It's clean. She didn't expect it. Maybe she did. She doesn't know. The tarps hang on branches covering a large enough tent that houses his neatly made bed. Crates are stacked to hold so many books, just like bricks stacked to hold up the bed at each leg. A lantern sits by it on one side. It's so … impressive for an invented space made out of found things.
"If you get cold, pull this over you," he says gesturing to a neatly rolled up sleeping bag at the foot of the bed. But the thick quilt would suffice if he asked her.
"Well, where will you sleep?" she asks.
"Just settle in," he points. He pulls on a pillow and a sleeping bag to take it outside the tent. Bella does the same. He watches her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not taking your bed."
"You will," he spits. He takes the items from her hands and places them back inside.
"Absolutely not. Not unless you sleep inside. There's room," she says, pointing with a thumb. He stares at her. "I won't take up your space and let you sleep outside."
He leans towards her, open arms. "You already have," he seethes.
She rolls her eyes. She grabs his things and dumps them by the bed on the tent floor. She hops into the bed and covers herself up to her chin with the quilt.
"Like you said, I'm here now. Get over it, Edward Anthony Cullen—not a stranger."
She stares at the tent ceiling while he stares daggers at her. She tries so very hard not to turn her head over his pillow and breathe in deeply. His wooded scent saturates the expensive linens. This is comical, she thinks; a hermit with expensive looking sheets.
"Where did you get all this shit anyway? Living large." She teases. He silently fumes. He settles on the floor, and his legs stretch out. She leans over to watch him from above. An arm rests behind his head. His legs cross at the ankles, and he scratches at his speckled jaw with eyes sealed shut to avoid her stare.
He ignores her.
That's how he remains the rest of the night. He doesn't even crack an eyelid when she's shuffling around under the quilt, or when there are sounds he's accustomed to out in these woods. Coyotes belt out their calls. They're far. He knows they are. He only needs sharp ears to measure the distances. But the girl doesn't know. She's terrified. Shuffling eventually quiets down, a pregnant silence settles over her, and only her breathing staggers when they call again from a distance.
He doesn't even react when he feels her touch, he won't. She jostles him to wake up, hesitant at first, then desperately. She whispers his name once, twice, three times ... each one his mother gave him. Her fingers crawl over his pecs, to his neck, maybe to check if he's dead. Yet he never stirs to give her the assurance.
He refuses.
She came here. He didn't ask her to. He figures she won't come back after this night. He hopes, and he hopes. But hopes run dry.
As hours melt away so does her peace. He didn't anticipate fear making a girl do irrational things.
When dawn breaks and he finally opens his eyes, he blinks up at the ceiling of the tent through a fan of dark locks. He's buried under a girl's warm body. She's not small. She's tall, just shy of his chin. He's noticed before. She takes up room in this narrow space, spilling over him to tangle her legs around his.
He huffs sending strands billowing away from his nose. He thinks of the wasted, perfectly good bed left vacant all night. Neither of them rested their bones on softness, but the sharp, flat piles of books he stacked over time.
She crawled over him, and he felt everything. The pound of her heart raging until it settled. The quilt poured over them, until she found her place ... like she's fit there all her life. Instantly, the coyotes didn't seem as frightening when her cheek pressed to his chest.
Bella slept peacefully.
Edward slept not a wink.
...