Chapter 30 - In Her Eyes
BPOV - Continued
The woods are dark. Bella fears no more.
She's hurt. She's devastated.
She left Edward's campsite that morning, but in her room, she sat, and she simmered—skipping every meal Charlie offered.
He'd knock on her bedroom door, and it echoed. Nothing. He gave up. He let her grieve in her room like he's been accustomed to doing himself. With Renee now gone, he needs moments of isolation, too. Bella didn't hear her dad at the door, just her raging heart.
How dare Edward dismiss what she knows they had? Years couldn't drive them apart. She knew. Yet, she was wrong. He marched her right out of there, even after saving her life.
Oh, how Bella cried that morning.
She left, but her heart stayed at his feet.
Now, the light of the moon shines the little bit she needs. She's going back to him. She refuses to let it end like this. What will she say when she's finally there at his tent? What would he say? Would he reject her again?
Let him yell, she thinks. Let him open up, wake up. Let him feel. She wants him to feel something.
Darkness has swallowed up his campsite. The boulders overshadow most of it, but it's so perfect here, even the moon sits just above the trees. Everything caters to him. Moonlight pours over his tent just enough for Bella to find it. Maybe this will be the last time she will.
Silence so saturated, the leaves sing, the wind its chorus. No man-made cacophony could be heard. She thinks how perfect his life is as she stops at the break of the tent.
She looks inside.
It's slow, but his eyelid flickers. The other under the back of his hand where it gently lies over a tired face, his other cradles his head. He doesn't sleep. He wouldn't be. Not after the storm Bella stirred that morning. It whirls in his mind, every word on loop. He can't rest.
Now, this, he thinks; the Lady of the Woods returns and stands at the break of the tent, taunting him again.
His chest is bare as it rises and falls. He closes the only visible eyelid and lets his palm open to shield both. Tired. Shredded. Like he has gone hiking for days, broke into cabins without a stop, and he's catching his breath.
Bella bites her lip. She looks out, then back in. For an instant, she feels like she'll run away.
But her feet are stuck here. She can't move.
They're silent, but they're both saying so much. She says she'll never give up, and he says he already has, long ago.
Her courage makes her take a step. His foggy brain keeps him still. She pulls on the quilt that's over him and makes room for herself, just like in every aspect of their relationship. She must. He won't budge.
The warmth is so dizzying this close, she sighs. This is where she's yearned to be. She gently lays her head on the bend of his arm and stretches out her legs by his.
Maybe she'll sleep, and that's enough. Just a night of having him close. She can move on with her life in the morning, even if it hurts. For now, she basks in this bliss as hours seem to melt away along with tense muscles; his.
What breaks the delicate bubble of silence—the brink of sleep—is a curious owl. The hoot is so sharp and near, her hand finds his. Instantly, he reciprocates. Fingers curling up around hers.
Just her thumb can reach his lips where their hands entwine. And when those two meet with her gentle caress, his lips part. He accepts.
He watches this Lady. She's different. She looks so much like the curious girl he knows. The same one who declared her deep-rooted feelings just hours ago. Every curve of her face is the same, the arch of her brow, the shape of her trembling lips. He presses his to her palm he holds.
Bella can't seem to breathe with his reaction. She barely whimpers when his teeth grazes soft skin.
That's all it takes. She won't hold back. She'll regret if she does.
Digging an elbow into the bed, she closes in. Lips so close, she lets the inevitable spark take its course. He'll reach up and let them touch. She knows he will.
Like the night at the lake, the sight of Bella's soft skin struck him; the dip at the small of her back, the peaks at her breasts, the dark water pebbling over her skin, he remembers, and this feels the same.
He would be lying to himself if he denies ever thinking of Bella that way, right here, in his bed. Hot or blistering cold days could not erase the memory of her body glistening, wet. A burnt exposure when he closes his eyes.
He reaches up. He lets their lips touch.
There's that. The finality. The ending note. A conclusion to all the restraint and fight.
The owl flaps its wings, and even the bird leaves the couple to be as it flies away from the campsite.
Their kiss isn't fast, it's a slow burn. Their exploration is steady and fragile. Bella barely moves but her lips over his. He lets go. He stares at this familiar face. His brows furrowed with focus.
This Lady's lips feel the same as Bella's, but warm now.
Bella lets his eyes wander as she braves to tell him how grateful she is that he saved her life. That's what she meant to say earlier. That and so many other things. Her undying love with it.
She doesn't get to say anything. He simply kisses her once more.
His fingers braid through her hair, and he's feeling that atom of curiosity. It always grows until it completely takes over, despite the rules of his kingdom. Just like the nerve it takes to find a new place to break into, he takes this very moment as such—a rule-bending decision.
Bella is so eager. Her heart could burst. She hugs him as he leans over to her.
She knew it. She knew he wanted her. Tears blur the little bit of light she can see him in. She just lets herself feel when his hands begin to find those curves he remembers. She takes back her embrace, lays her hands and head on his pillow, and allows this to progress—the impending spark between two individuals who've waited for too long, wanted for too long.
She doesn't have to budge; Edward finds his place. It's instant, no thinking. He balls his fists around her shirt and holds on like she'll disappear once again.
She won't.
She lets him lead wherever he wants this to go. She's done her part. She's lead them both here. She watches him move willfully, dipping below to press his lips where his hands go. He budges now; her legs. She burrows beneath him. He alludes, she breathlessly follows suit.
The quiet campsite finds the pair skin to skin, all the layers pulled off with frantic hands. Like time turned back and they're bare, floating once again in the lake. Edward sees it the same, just as it played behind his eyelids for two whole years, twenty-four full moons. What he wanted to do in that dark, cool water, he does now to this woman. Every bit of himself wrapped around her, inside her. He burrows in, sighs by each other's ears.
The stars he's accustomed to seeing, are not above, but clear in her eyes.
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