He stretches slowly, opening and closing his fingers and flexing his neck. When the tension leaves, he settles back into his chains, allowing them to take his weight.
It's dark here. So dark that not even his superior eyesight can pierce the room. A room, yes, he knows he's in a room. But where? He hardly has an idea, only that it smells of mildew and rot.
He tenses again, moving his legs so they stretch out in front of him. He's oddly bound, thick iron linked together and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He'd tried, he'd tried so hard. But they proved too strong for him to escape. He'd snarled and howled and shouted, yet no one came for him.
So he's quiet, as silent as the room he's in, breathing shallowly through his nose.
How long has it been? Has it been as long as he was underneath? No, he doubts it. But how long? He doesn't know. He doesn't know…this is truly hell.
A door opens suddenly, the flick of a lock hurting his sensitive hearing. Light floods into the opening, burning his eyes.
He begins to panic when footsteps approach him, closer and closer. He snarls weakly, then adds more power to it as the stranger continues forward, choosing to not heed his warnings.
He jerks against his bindings, baring his teeth wildly.
When the stranger grabs his arm, he lunges. They jump backward and make a chastising noise, and then their hands are back on him. No matter how loud he becomes or how ferociously he snaps at them, they continue to fidget with the chains around him.
And then… and then their iron weight suddenly drops from him, clattering to the ground in a sinister pile.
As he leans down to inspect the links, he suddenly realizes the stranger is no longer here. Where did they go? How could they leave without his noticing?
He swallows his growls and snarls, taming them to a muted rumbling that vibrates his chest.
Wearily, he slinks towards the door still hanging open and peeks outside hesitantly. Nothing but an ordinary house made of immense windows and fine furniture. It makes him nervous to be around such finery. What if he were to break something?
As slowly and gently as he can, he creeps through the house, swallowing against the dryness in his throat and itching at the odd clothes they'd forced onto him.
His captors had neglected him any food- to keep him weak, he's sure. And now he feels that weakness in the very way his steps tax him so and in the faint dimming of his vision. It's unsettling.
Following his nose, he creeps to the door. Beyond, he can smell the forest. Pine trees and sap and growing things, and he takes a moment to appreciate the medley filling his lungs.
With the care he would afford a newborn babe, he gently presses down on the hinge until the door slowly creaks open. Releasing a breath he'd unknowingly been holding, he creeps outside. For a moment, he simply enjoys the soft breeze curling through his untamed hair. The leaves shuddering in the breeze fill his ears, as does the distant sound of deer and birds and foraging bears.
He'd spent so long in the darkness… far too long.
But then the breeze brings with it something foreign and yet familiar. Something at once soothing and exciting, intoxicating and startlingly refreshing. He takes deep gulps of the scent, closing his eyes to appreciate this strange new smell. It makes him shiver and tremble. He's never come across anything quite like it and yet he's known it his entire life… it was… it is…
Home.
Bella pattered across the kitchen, rising to her tiptoes to grab a plate from the cabinet.
A soothing song played from her phone and she gently sang along, not bothering to cringe at her atrocious voice when nobody is around to hear it.
The smell of something burning makes her turn around and let out a rushed curse as she sees the eggs in the pan begin to let off a black smoke.
"Crap, crap, crap," she mutters as she hurries them to the sink and, after a moment of deliberation, douses the mess in water. She sets it into the sink and runs a hand through her hair. So much for dinner…
The song is interrupted by the ringing of her phone.
"Hey, Angela," she rushes to greet her friend, swiping her hair out of her eyes.
"Bella? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just finished burning my dinner is all." She turns back to eye the still sizzling pan in the sink. She doesn't know what is up with her lately, but her mind is everywhere but present.
"Ah, hope I didn't cause that. I can call back?"
"No, no. I just let my mind wander. Eggs were never my forte."
"Bella," she sounds disappointed. "Breakfast for dinner again? What would Charlie think?"
"He doesn't get to think anything unless he wants to get in here and do the cooking himself."
Angela chuckles. "I take it you're on your own tonight?"
Bella tucks the phone between her shoulder and ear and sets to cleaning her mess, wetting a rag and wiping down the spattered counters "Yeah, Charlie's working overtime again. Probably won't be back 'till morning."
"Well, if you want, we can have a sleepover? I just popped some popcorn, got a movie loaded up."
"That… that actually sounds really nice." A chance to get out of her recently stifling house sounded like it would do her wonders. Maybe even restore her cooking skills.
"Awesome! Well, come on over. I'll try not to eat all the popcorn."
Bella shares in the laugh and hangs up, smiling absentmindedly as she gets to work running a soapy sponge across the pan.
Humming, she dances across the kitchen to replace the pots and pans. And as she whirls back around in an awful parody of what she'd been taught in ballet class, she stumbles right into a warm, hard chest.
At first, she thinks its Edward. But then… he isn't warm. Charlie? No, her father wouldn't sneak up on her like this.
Horror-movie slow, she turns and looks over her shoulder.
The scream catches in her throat, coming out more as an awful groan as she stumbles away from the stranger in her kitchen. He's unmoving, unnaturally so, staring down at her from a significant height difference. What. The. Hell.
He's not moving, is he even breathing? How long has she been thinking? Minutes? Sure feels like it.
And then logic picks up its megaphone and screams right into her mind, 'RUN!' And who is she to disobey her logic?
Sparing a moment to feint left and right, appearing quite stupid if she had her mind about her, she sprints towards the door.
But he's there, right in front of her. Ok. A vampire then. Of course it is. That tiny voice of logic goes limp, shakes its head and declares her a dead girl walking. Thanks, logic.
She retreats, shaking her head, then wheels on her heel and heads towards the stairs. Again, he's right in front of her.
Oh, god. She's dead, isn't she? After just learning about the supernatural world and the distant possibility that she might one day join it with Edward at her side, she gets taken out by a strange vampire. Wonderful. Just great.
Ok, panicking won't help. Deep breaths, Bella. Deep breaths. She inhales like her life depends on it then releases it in a great whoosh. There we go, nice and even.
But the moment the man begins to creep towards her, no, more like stalk towards her, those calm breaths turn into hyperventilating pants.
"Ok, ok, hi? Hello?"
He pauses mid-step, wavering.
She sucks down more air and swallows loudly. "Um… m-my name is Bella. A-and you're on Cullen territory, ok? If you hurt me, they'll kill you."
He's silent, merely staring at her, expression unyielding.
"There's a lot of them," she declares as she slowly backs up into the kitchen. "Strong, too. So, if you could just…" without her permission, her voice grows small, "leave." Stumbling as she backs into a chair, she numbly falls into it, distantly realizing that she's shaking.
The stranger seems to waver, uncertain and curious, although how she knows this is beyond her- after all, his expression reveals nothing.
In the silence that follows, she manages to bring her breathing back to a relatively normal rhythm.
And then, as slowly as the sun itself when it sets, he moves into the kitchen, making it feel smaller than it ever has before. He comes closer and closer and she's positive he's about to take a bite out of her when he passes her in favor of the chair beyond. It squeals as it's dragged across the wooden floor and then he's taking a seat, settling himself gently into it. Almost as an after-thought, he crosses his arms across his chest, then thinks better of it and settles them stiffly against the table.
O…k….
She holds his gaze in disbelief before remembering all she'd learned from Edward. Vampires are more animalistic than a human, right? Would this one take it as a challenge if she looked into his eyes? She slowly focuses on the ground right in front of her, only occasionally darting glances up at him.
A stalemate, then…
As she worries her lip and holds herself as rigidly as possible, she takes the time to inspect him.
Long, dirty blonde hair hang in gentle waves, resting against his chin in a careless cascade. And his eyes- they're blacker than black, a near endless void. Like the rest of the Cullen coven, he's alabaster pale, as if carved from granite, and unnaturally handsome. Any girl could fall for him, but she can see it in his eyes, that pacing predator just waiting to strike. A thought occurs to her. This… this is the feral, isn't it? The one Edward mentioned? Oh god…
She shivers and raises her legs onto the chair, wrapping her arms around her knees and hugging them to her chest.
But…
He's not doing anything. Just staring. Why isn't he ripping her limb from limb? 'Draining her', as Edward had mentioned? He certainly doesn't act like she'd expected a feral would. No frothing at the mouth, no incoherent mutterings. No, he's simply sitting across from her.
The feral suddenly moves, repositioning his legs in front of him and wrapping his arms around them. A near perfect mirror of her own position.
Eternal minutes pass and she can't help but feel like a fawn in the claws of a lion. She'd watched videos online, where the predator seemed to become confused, somehow taking the fawn as its own. But then, inexorably, the fawn always died, either at the lion's careless hands or by stress and malnourishment.
Is that what this is? A confused predator?
The feral moves again, resting his chin against his upraised knees as if he were exhausted.
Can vampires even get tired?
As she breathes slowly, purposefully, she realizes there's an echo. He's mimicking her, evidenced by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. On a whim, she holds her breath. The soft puffs of air cease as quickly as her own.
Unable to help it, a brief spark of strained amusement makes her giggle.
He tilts his head subtly, hair falling into his eyes, but doesn't move beyond that.
"I'm sorry," she says, waving her hand dismissively. "This is just…" Insane? Unbelievable? Surreal? She can't quite place the thought.
Why is she so calm? Perhaps because she's been staring into the maws of death for a seeming eternity and they've yet to close on her. She spares a quick glance around the kitchen, spotting her phone just feet from her. She'll have to lean across the table to get it but she'll simply have to do it. She can't simply sit here and wait for him to get hungry… or hungrier.
She slowly unwinds her arms and, as if reaching for a wild animal, leans forward. Pausing, she glances towards him. He's unmoving, though his black eyes seem more lucid, present. Focusing back on the phone, she slowly curls her fingers around it and, once it is safely in her grip, drags it to her chest.
Trembling, she looks between him and the screen hastily as she enters Edward's number. Her thumb is just about to press down on the dial button when she inexplicably pauses.
He's… staring intensely at the microwave and its blinking, neon green timer. If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she would have missed the way his arms tightened further around himself. As if waking from a stupor, he looks around the kitchen in a growing franticness, from the fridge to the sink and the air-conditioning vent sputtering from the ceiling.
It's a surprise from the previous, inanimate creature to this suddenly sporadic, twitching man. With a start, she realizes his eyes have lightened considerably, though are still a dark black.
He suddenly leaps to his feet, the chair smashing across the room, and then he's leaving the kitchen in quick strides like a man on a mission.
Bella is dumb-struck, left at the table with her mouth agape. A crash sounds from the living room and she spares one last glance at the number on her phone before closing it and shoving it into her pocket.
Slowly, she creeps to the kitchen doorway and hesitantly looks into the living room.
Like the kitchen, he's looking every which way, from the t.v. to the sofa to the lamp with the most confounded expression she's ever seen a vampire make.
She whispers, for anything above a hush sounds wrong in the quiet house. "Are you… alright?"
Yes, Bella, ask the feral vampire if he's ok. Good idea. Remind me again, why we're not calling Edward and every other damn vampire we know right now?
He'd whipped around at her words as if he'd forgotten she was there.
His head begins to shake as if unbelieving of his circumstances. And then his hands are rising and gripping his tangled locks and pulling on them fiercely. As he hunches into himself, a sound escapes him, one almost too quiet for her ears. But she had heard it. A stifled, barely there sob.
It pulls on her heart strings like nothing else ever has. If she didn't know his true nature, if he weren't a stranger, she'd have already enveloped him into a hug. But he's yet to make a threatening move…
He seems only… scared. Confused. Lost.
"Hey," she whispers, taking a step forward and pausing. "I can see you're afraid- it's ok. It's alright… Hey."
He continues to tremble, his entire body shivering and rattling.
It breaks her heart to see. She'd only ever seen one thing similar, and it was those damned ASPCA commercials with the trembling dogs and cats and their sad, sad eyes. The very same commercials that had her bawling like a baby whenever they aired. At once it feels both wrong and completely right to compare him to an abused animal.
Swallowing her fear and, admittedly her logic, she approaches ever closer to the hungry, scared apex predator.
"I, um… when I was younger and I became afraid, I used to hug my mom or dad. And they'd let me, for as long as I wanted. And it always made me feel better." She chews on her lip. "I could…" she feels foolish even thinking it, so she swallows down the words before they leave her mouth. Of course the vampire doesn't want a hug from you, stupid! And why would you want to hug him in the first place? Darwinism is certainly in play, huh Bella?
Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't have time to notice as he crosses the distance between them in a flash.
He hesitates just inches from her. His eyes flit between her own uncertainly, his distrust plain to see.
She gasps softly, flinching with a soft, 'oh' at the utter speed he'd displayed.
He's just… standing there. Waiting for her?
"Is this ok?" she asks, slowly reaching out her hand between them. His gaze drops to her hand, zeroing in on it with such intensity that she swallows loudly.
It feels like she's reaching into the mouth of a crocodile.
No. No, she's helping a scared and confused man in the only way she knows how.
The moment her fingers touch his chest, they both inhale softly. As if that one touch opened the floodgates, he's suddenly moving even closer. His chest presses into her own and his chin drops onto her shoulder. Reorienting herself, she raises her arms and ever so slowly lets the come to rest across his broad shoulders.
As she allows his shaking to envelop them both, she realizes he's warm. Comfortable. She shushes him again and slowly begins running her hands up and down his back.
Through the thin, long sleeved Henley he wears, she can feel his ribs, one by one. What happened to him? Was he being fed? Could vampires starve to death?
Bella freezes when his nose suddenly finds the dip of her shoulder, burying into the crevasse and staying there stubbornly. His chest expands against her own as he inhales her scent and she unconsciously tenses, preparing for the bite.
But it never comes. What comes instead are his arms, raising to wrap around her, pulling her even closer- something she hadn't thought possible.
Unwarranted, a blush rises to her cheeks as his scent fills her nose- a pleasing yet gentle combination of fresh rainwater and mesquite. This is… intimate. Far more intimate than she and Edward had ever reached. She'd only ever held hands with him, and the spare few kisses against her cheeks. But this… felt a thousand times different. Deeper, almost. Far closer.
One of her hands raises and, after a brief hesitation, wraps around the back of his neck and kneads softly.
The reaction is immediate. He melts against her like a cat, seemingly forgetting his considerable weight as he pushes her to her knees, collapsing right along with her.
He nuzzles her again, holds her tighter, his knees outlining her own.
"There," she whispers. "Everything's alright…"
He's so warm, yet still he shivers.
She reaches out to the couch and grabs the blanket thrown around the back of it.
Dragging it towards them, she settles it around them both like a fussing mother, tucking it into every crease and worrying over it until it's just right.
She takes the stranger into her arms once more, contemplating that she doesn't even know his name.
What an odd turn her night has taken…
Damn, she forgot about Angela. Taking out her phone, she quickly texts a brief explanation then returns it to her pocket.
As she resumes kneading the back of his neck, she chances a conversation. As softly as she can, she asks, "What is your name?"
He doesn't move against her, doesn't give any sign at all that he heard her.
"Do you know where you are? ... Do you know who you are?"
Nothing.
Although it is clear he isn't as feral as the meaning of the word would suggest, he certainly isn't normal. No, there's something not quite right about him. This ping-ponging between emotions, the clear confusion… it all spoke to a mental chaos that made her shudder to consider. What would it take to break a vampire's mind? Something horrendous, surely.
She hugs him tighter at the thought. Bella had always considered herself a rather loner, non-touchy-feely type individual. But this man is quickly proving her wrong. She wants nothing more than to wrap him up in a hundred blankets and to fix his fractured mind with the snap of a finger.
But it doesn't work like that, she knows. Nothing could ever be so easy.
No, she can't fix him. But she can certainly hold onto him, and she'll do so for as long as he'll allow, and hopefully, hopefully, he'll feel better for it.
So strange that she's so devoted to this man, a stranger who wandered into her house. But there's something that lures her closer to him, makes her want to protect him, to be close. And for now, she won't fight it.
Bella tightens her hold on him. "I'm right here."
AN:
Y'all... I don't even know. I guess I was feeling sappy tonight. But I love me the mental cases (who isn't one?) and felt like our boy needed some lovin' after these past few chapters, even if it is from a stranger.
How will Edward react to the missing feral snuggling up to his girl? Who let Jasper out of his chains? Why is Bella so drawn to him (besides the fact that he's fucking gorgeous?)?
Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows- keeps me going!