A product of quarantine and the Twilight Renaissance.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, plot points, and backgrounds do not belong to me.

"Taking the stairs?" Edward asked, voice dripping with incredulity. "You've barely been able to stand!"

Bella didn't respond. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting, no longer looking into his angry expression. The landing beneath her swirled.

Amongst the whirling woodgrain came two sock clad feet.

"Carlisle left less than half an hour ago," Edward said, now standing directly in front of her and fuming. His socks climbed up into a pair of dark jeans. They were all Bella could see as she had not raised her gaze. "All he asked was that you rest while he was gone, and the first thing you do is exert more energy in that half hour than you have in the entire week you've been here."

Even through the irritation, Bella couldn't help but notice the melodic rhythm of his voice. Like a lovely, pissed off song.

When the floor finally seemed to stop swimming, she slowly raised her head. Considering she was currently seated on one of the steps and he was standing (and he's tall), Bella had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. His eyes, deep gold under his tightly pinched brow, were exuding so much exasperation that Bella felt a surge of guilt.

"I'm sorry," she said, barely more than a whisper.

It wasn't clear if it was the apology itself or the sincerity with which it was given, but that one word made Edward soften his stance. His frown grew deeper, now out of confusion rather than frustration. He released a long breath, closing his eyes. When they opened again, he looked to the ceiling.

There was a window, Bella now noticed, high above them. Gray light streamed through, making the brighter parts of his auburn of his hair shimmer. It's the kind of color that was associated with all things fleeting: autumn leaves destined to fall, the sun burning before dipping beneath the horizon, a flame flaring darkest just before it releases its last plume of smoke. Absently she wondered what his hair would look like in the sun.

"Don't apologize," he said.

Her eyes flashed to his face, but he was still staring at the ceiling.

Bella frowned. "What?"

"Don't apologize," Edward repeated, meeting her eyes. He slowly bent at the knees, crouching to Bella's eye-level before taking a seat on the landing below her. The shock must have shown on her face, because his lips lifted into the smallest of smiles. "I can't exactly blame you. If I were holed up in a room for that long I wouldn't have even waited until they'd closed the door."

"Not patient, then?" Bella asked after a long moment, more earnest than teasing.

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, now looking directly into her eyes. She shifted slightly under his gaze.

"My family would probably say I don't have a patient bone in my body," Edward said. "Which I suppose is true. But then again, patience isn't something I'm used to practicing." His tone sounded almost sardonic then, but about what he was feeling snarky Bella had no clue. All she knew was it sounded more self-derisive than pointed, so she chose not to take it personally.

For a moment they sat in silence, Bella now looking about herself, twisting her upper body to look up the stairs to the third floor. From her angle, she could just see the edge of an open door.

Twisting back around, she peered over Edward's head and down the hall she'd ignored earlier. Down that hall was the office where Bella had woken up a week ago. Vaguely, she remembered that as she'd wobbled out of that room, she'd passed two bedrooms. One with the door flung open so she could see that the room was lavishly decorated, an en suite bathroom visible on one side.

A bathroom, probably equipped with a shower and bathtub. God, she thought. She'd kill for a hot shower. Suddenly the reality of her being cooped up in that room all week, with only a half-bath in sight, made her skin crawl.

"What is it?" Edward asked, startling her. Her face must have made her longing clear.

Bella considered saying nothing, but his expression was intense.

For whatever reason, Edward Cullen seemed to really want to know what she was thinking.

"I would like to take a shower," she said, slowly.

Edward raised his eyebrows. This answer apparently not matching whatever he'd assumed. "You can barely stand."

"I can barely walk," Bella corrected him. "But even so I walked around downstairs a few times and up a flight of stairs before disaster struck."

"Which also probably means you've exhausted yourself."

"But would you look at that," Bella said, gesturing around herself. "I've gotten the opportunity to rest up."

"Is that what you'd call not being able to get up after falling down the stairs?" Edward asked "Resting?"

Bella's eyes narrowed. "I can get up."

"I may not be able to-" Edward stopped suddenly, pursing his lips. "I may not know you," he continued. "But even I could tell you were practically putting your head between your knees a moment ago."

"But now I'm fine."

His eyes flashed. "Prove it."

"Excuse me?"

"Stand up." Edward raised his hand in front of him, indicating toward the empty air above their heads. "If you can honestly stand, and stand up straight – no swaying or wavering, then do it."

Edward had just admitted he didn't know Bella. But the underlying smugness showed that he overestimated the little he did know about her. Because if there was one thing Bella was, it was stubborn.

Clenching her jaw, Bella braced her hands firmly on the step above her and used all the strength she had to launch herself up in one fluid, if wobbly, movement.

The suddenness of her movement startled Edward into standing as well. Because he was a couple steps below her, while standing Bella now had about a half inch of height on the vampire.

Bella had to focus to stand up completely straight on both legs, but was pleasantly surprised. It was difficult, but not any more difficult than it had been before she'd fallen.

Something like adrenaline was going straight to her head, causing her to jut her chin upwards, looking down into Edward's shocked eyes. "As you were saying?"

Half an hour later, Bella stood in Edward's bathroom under a hot spray of water, clutching one of the chairs from the Cullen's dining room table.

Edward had insisted that the chair accompany her in the shower so she had something to hold on to. Unsurprisingly, a house full of vampires didn't include a bathroom with accessibility bars or a seat in the shower stall.

More surprisingly, only Edward's bathroom had a working shower. Bella had gotten to witness the absurdly amusing experience that was Edward explaining that Alice and Jasper's shower was broken from "overactive use".

Bella stared at him for a moment. "Overactive use?"

Edward, immortal vampire, squirmed. "Yes."

They were still on the stairs, trying to figure out the best way to go about getting Bella to a shower. There were three in the house, one on each floor. The most ideal one would be the one on the floor they were currently on, as going to Esme and Carlisle's would require a trip down the stairs and Edward's a trip up. Esme was in the middle of remodeling hers and Carlisle's, and Edward basically said she couldn't use Alice and Jasper's (the shower on the second floor) with no explanation. So she'd been prodding.

To be fair, his demeanor was so uncomfortable that Bella couldn't help pushing. "Were they jiggling the faucet too hard or something?"

He sighed, turning his head so he wasn't looking at her. "Not exactly."

She waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. "I'm just going to keep asking."

Edward's eyes flashed to hers for a split second before darting away again. Whatever this was genuinely difficult for him to talk about. Which made Bella just want to know even more. It's about a shower, for Christ's sakes.

"The wall is broken," he said, finally.

"Okay . . ." Bella said, drawing out the word. "How does one break a wall?"

"There was-" Edward stops, seemingly trying to find the words.

"There was what?" She asked when he didn't continue. "Look, if I'm going to have to go up another flight of stairs to use the shower you might as well give me a good reason-"

"They broke it having sex," Edward snapped.

Bella's eyebrows shot up. "They broke it having sex? A whole wall?"

Edward looked like he wanted to evaporate into the air around them. "Apparently they were being particularly . . . enthusiastic."

His face pulled into comical disgust as he said the word, and it made Bella erupt into laughter. Edward looked at her, surprised, but his body language relaxing somewhat.

"I don't know what's funnier," she said, clutching the railing of the stairs. "Your face, or how difficult that was for you to say."

So they'd gone up the stairs to Edward's room. At first Bella refused Edward's help, at which point he argued that she wouldn't have enough energy to actually take the shower. In the end, he kept a steadying hand on her back as she carefully made her way up the stairs. She felt the coolness of his hand at her waist, applying the slightest of pressure to push her forward.

Edward's room was beautiful. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked directly out into the woods, giving the illusion that the dark green of the trees were the walls itself. Despite that the room was bright, thanks to the soft white walls and light hardwood floors. The only furniture in the room was a long leather couch, a chair, and two stuffed book cases, all white. The back wall of the room was made of shelves, holding hundreds and hundreds of records, CDs, and what looked to be an incredibly expensive stereo system.

Bella was pleasantly surprised to see how lived-in the room felt. A blanket tossed over the couch, a few records out of their sleeves on the floor, a few well-worn books stacked next to the chair.

There was no bed, of course, which struck her as sort of funny but also practical.

While she'd stood just inside the doorway, Edward had been darting about her. First to the bathroom, to make sure anything she'd need would be within arm's distance, then to fetch the chair that he'd deemed "necessary".

She'd quietly agreed. While she thought she'd easily be able to hold herself up, the idea of falling and Edward coming to find her sprawled out on the floor while naked – she'd been vulnerable enough the past few days.

Now, she was especially grateful for the chair. She used one hand to steady herself as she used the other to slowly work shampoo through her hair. Edward must have raided Alice or Esme's bathroom, because his bathroom had two sets of soap and shampoo, one distinctly more feminine. Running her fingers through her hair, pulling out tangles and snarls that had accumulated over the week, she idly wondered which of them preferred the scent of strawberry.

After a blissful 20 minutes, Bella found herself staring into a mirror, both hands flat on the counter for balance.

Another thing Edward had thought to do: get her a fresh set of clothes. Folded neatly next to the bathroom sink was a pair of sweatpants, women's underwear, and what looked to be a men's t-shirt.

(An interlude: Bella put the fabric of the shirt to her mouth to keep from crying, overwhelmed by such a tiny, thoughtful, unbearably humanizing gesture. She recovered quickly.)

After Bella had successfully, if chaotically, dressed herself, she cracked open the bathroom door.

Edward had put on a record. It was actually quite loud. Bella guessed that it was to help give her a semblance of privacy while she'd bathed, and she was grateful.

He stood in front of the complicated stereo, flipping nobs and switches. Bella eased the door open further, clearing her throat. Edward's head turned toward her, gold eyes flitting over her from head to toe.

"Do you feel better?" He asked.

While at this point she should have come to expect it, Bella was still surprised at the sincerity of his question. For whatever reason, Edward really wanted to know the answer.

"Yes," she said. "So much."

It was the truth. More than just feeling completely clean for the first time in a week, getting to do something so mundane all on her own gave Bella a grounding she hadn't realized she needed.

Her body felt loose, her head a tiny bit clearer. Did her leg still radiate pain? Sure. But now at least she felt more like a person.

Edward was considering her, expression hard to read. "Good."

The music he'd put on seemed to reach her ears suddenly. A week without music now seemed like an eternity to Bella. It was classical music, something familiar and tinkling. Her grandmother had been an avid listener of classical music, hardly playing anything with lyrics throughout Bella's childhood. While she didn't recognize whatever Edward was playing, it gave her some comfort.

He took a few careful steps toward her. "Would you like to go back downstairs now?"

She grimaced involuntarily. The idea of going back to the guest room and laying on that bed was deeply unappealing. Besides, while she'd been able to (impressively, in her opinion) hold herself up for the entirety of her shower, Bella could now feel her body giving way to another bout exhaustion. She knew she couldn't make it down the stairs by herself at this point. But she also hated how helpless just the the idea of Edward helping her, or god forbid, carrying her, made her feel.

She glanced out one of the windows as she considered how to word what she wanted. This room felt so much less oppressive than the one she'd been sequestered to. The trees and the light and the music, god the music. If she could just stay here for a bit until she could confidently take the stairs by herself . . .

She looked at Edward. He was either concentrating hard or just frowning. Bella couldn't tell.

"Would it be okay if I stayed up here?" She asked. When his eyes widened in surprise, she added in a rush, "Just until I feel rested enough to go back downstairs." She shifted a bit on her good foot, opting again for sincerity. "The music is nice, too."

Edward didn't respond, gaping at her openly. Then, almost mechanically, he lifted his arm, gesturing toward the white couch.

Bella's breath whooshed out of her body, the relief of his acceptance taking the last of her body's energy. She limped toward the couch, practically jumping feet at a time till she reached it.

Bella made herself at home on the coach, gently positioning her leg in the most comfortable way before laying back against the cushions. The music still floated through the air, the moment reminding her of one of the apartments of her childhood. Then she'd been only a young teen, and the light coming through the window had been yellow with the sun. But she felt the same ease take over her body that comes when your body finally gives in to its tiredness. And God, was she tired.

Now, Bella allowed her eyes to slide shut, just for a moment. Part of her mind wondered why she didn't feel unsafe, exposing herself like this. Aside from Rosalie, he was one who'd been the most distant, the most obviously displeased with her presence.

But he'd also granted her a true moment of independence, allowing her to potentially injure herself further in favor of letting her feel in control.

Her limbs felt liquid in that strange way they do when one is completely relaxed. Bella opened her eyes, now heavy. Edward was still across the room, watching her curiously. She knows she should have thanked him, but all she could bear at that moment was a tiny, grateful smile.

Bella couldn't tell if she imagined the soft, sweet smile he gave her in return. She chose to believe it was real.

She didn't realize she was falling asleep until sleep was already upon her.