A/N: I'm back... a day late. Sorry about that! Had a hectic day yesterday and I was half way through editing this then the page refreshed and I lost all the finalising I'd done and just decided to leave it until I could focus. That time didn't come until now. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy and I'll see you at the bottom!

I'll Always Find Peace In The Meadow

Chapter Thirty-one : 'off switch' (Bella POV)

Tuesday 20 June 2017

"Finally!" Edward groans, falling back onto his bed as soon as he's let me into his room and locked the door behind me. The curtains are all drawn. I have never realised how dark Edward's room is until just now. The way it's decorated, with the dark brown walls, dark brown bedding, dark brown curtains, all mean that if it weren't for the light hanging from the ceiling, and the bright pops of yellow furniture around the room, we'd be surrounded in darkness right now.

I go to his desk, leaning back against it. He picks himself up a bit, propping his weight onto his elbow while he remains strewn out across the bed. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful - after all, it is a party for me - but can I just say how glad I am to be locked in here right now?"

I laugh, pulling his desk chair out to sit down. "You can. I understand. All the attention can be... exhausting." Edward groans again, flopping back down.

"Too right!" He stares up at the cieling while I stare at him. "We'll only be able to stay in here for a little while. My parents will work out that we've snuck away eventually and come looking for us."

I shrug, though he doesn't see the action. "That's okay. This little reprieve is perfect no matter the length of time."

We are both silent for the next few minutes, just enjoying the almost peaceful silence. There's still the hum of the party acting as background noise for us.

"Oh!" I say loudly when I remember something important, accidently startling Edward. I offer him a sheepish smile before going to my jacket that he'd put away in his wardrobe while we'd hidden out in here. Underneath it is his present from me. I didn't want to put it on the large table of presents that's upstairs, wanting to give this to him in private. Now seems like better a time than any.

I walk back out, going over to the bed. I kneel on the edge as I hold out the wrapped present to him, my hand shaking. "You got me a present?" he asks, shocked, as he quickly sits up. He takes it from me eagerly. "You didn't have to."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's your birthday."

He leans forward to hug me. "Thank you."

"Hey," I say, chuckling nervously as I push him away. "Don't thank me yet. You need to open it first. You may not even like it."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't you be ridiculous," he says before tearing into the present. My palms go clammy, the bandage around my wrist mixed with the sweat causing my hand to itch. What if he doesn't like it? Shit! That was a stupid thing to get him.

I start talking nervously, rapidly, all while Edward stares down at the opened present, an unfathomable look on his face. "If you don't like it, then I'll get you something else. I still have the returns packaging. I just thought it'd be good for you to have. You know, so you don't have all those loose sheets of paper to keep track of. Now, with this, you won't risk losing any of your compositions. And-" I'm cut off by the force of Edward's body hitting mine. I very nearly topple backwards off the bed, but somehow manage to stay upright. His arms, which are tightly wound around my shoulders, are beginning to cut my air supply off. "Edward," I wheeze, "you're... crushing...me..."

He quickly pulls back. "Fuck, sorry, Bella." Now it's his turn to offer me a sheepish smile. "I'm just so... this is the perfect gift. Thank you so much."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're right. I do face the risk of losing my music with how I store it at the moment. It's mostly shoved into my nightstand drawer and I also have a few pieces in my desk drawer and over on a shelf in my closet. There's really no order or organisation. Now, I can keep it all in one place! This... I'm... You couldn't have gotten me a more perfect present if you'd tried."

I literally sag in relief. "Good. That's great. I'm glad you like it. And look at this!" I say, transforming from no longer nervous but relieved, to excited as I take the successfully recieved gift from Edward's hands. I open up the gorgeous brown leatherbound composition book, and flip all the way to the back. "There's also a pocket so you can store some of the loose sheets in here with all of your music. It's really great. I may have to get myself one."

"Why? You don't write music." I freeze at Edward's casually offhand remark, blushing deeply. Shit. I hadn't even realised my slip up. "Do you?" Fuck! I say nothing. "Bella. Do you?" Edward ducks his head to try and meet my eyes.

"Pfft. No," I scoff, handing the book back to him. "Of course I don't." My reply is hasty as I turn and jump off the bed. Edward is quick to follow me.

"Why would you say that you want one then?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"How else could you mean it?"

"I don't know. But what I do know is I have no need for one of those books."

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying.

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not. It's the truth. I don't write music."

"Then why would you need a composition book?"

"I don't."

"But you said-"

"My God, Edward! Where's your off switch? How you could tell your uncle that I'm stubborn is beyond me! You're like a dog with a bone. You never stop." My hands are clenched at my sides, which is excruciating for my bad arm. My breathing is heavy and I know my face is bright red - not from embarrassment as usual, but from anger this time.

Edward freezes, stunned for only a beat of a second before he erupts into laughter. "Oh, Bella. You're too much sometimes, you really are," he laughs, wiping a single hysterical tear from the corner of his eye. His amusement breaks through my anger and I have to battle immensely with myself to not break out into smiles. "My off switch?" he repeats through his laughter. His laughter is infectious and I lose the battle, smiling toothily. Soon I'm laughing too, even if it is at my expense.

It takes us all of the rest of our time hiding away in his bedroom to calm down. Once we have control of ourselves, he says we should head back outside. I have another battle with myself, this time to not sulk, as we walk toward the exterior door of his bedroom.

We seem to mutually agree on the count to five, both of us obviously needing to prepare, before he unlocks and opens the glass paned door, which has been covered by a floor to cieling curtain while we've been in here. I'm glad we did, because it gave me the chance to plaster a smile on my face... something that would have been very hard to do naturally had we opened the door without the mini preparation and walked right into the firing line - the ammunition being sharp stares from many of the other guests that have already moved back outside. I sigh under my breath and glance at Edward, who's smile is also fake, I can tell. I hate that he can't relax at his own birthday party.

At least he's forgotten about my stupid slip of the tongue.

"So... do you compose your own songs?" he asks me quietly as we reenter the circle of lights.

Or not.

~I*A*F*P*I*T*M~

I'm one of the last few guests still remaining. Many have gone now. Edward's Uncle, Aunt and cousins have just left - all of whom said goodbye to me, too, unlike the rest of the guests. I've noticed Jessica and Lauren have stayed, both girls actually leaving me be all night. So did Rosalie and the rest of the teens attending the party. It's been both shocking and unnerving.

Bev and Al are also still here. Those two appear to have stayed simply to help clean up a bit.

I found out this evening, during the little while I spoke with the lovely older couple, that Al also worked for the Cullens for quite some time in Chicago. He was hired before his wife, as their gardener. With his passion for all things green, he really was the perfect man for the job of maintaining the lustrous Cullen's gardens. He only decided to step back from the responsibility when the Cullens announced they were moving. He and Bev, having worked for this family for so long, jumped at the chance to move across the country with them. Especially when they heard it was a small town. Alan has now managed to fulfil his life long dream of owning his own florist, which apparently the Cullens helped fund as a thank you for all the years he and his wife had devoted to them. I was shocked to find out the Cullens could be so generous.

Even though Bev still very much works for the Cullens, and Al will return every now and then to spruce up the maintainable plants surrounding the house, he and Bev have a life away from the Cullens for the first time in many years. They live in the apartment above his florist in the town center.

I begin to help tidy up to, picking up a trash bag as I begin discarding the napkins and paper on the kids table. It was partially my mess, so it's technically my responsibility. Edward, however, doesn't agree. He taps on my shoulder, shaking his head as he takes the bag from me once I've turned to him. He gives it to a passing member of the catering staff that are still here, also helping, before he takes my hand and pulls me in the direction of his bedroom door. Mr Cullen is stood by the buffet table, sipping a glass of something golden as he talks with one of the few remaining guests - this one works at the hospital with him, I think. He glances toward his son and I as we pass him, his eyes following us all the way to Edward's room.

Edward locks the door once we're inside. "Guests don't do the cleaning, Bella."

"Bev and Al are guests yet they were helping," I say.

"They..." he sighs. "That's different!"

"How?" I ask, crossing my arms. The twinge my defying action causes in my wrist is sudden, and I can't keep the pain it causes off of my face. Edward strides over to me, taking my arm without permission. He holds it delicately, and begins unwinding the bandage. I quickly pull it away from his grasp, wincing again at the pain. Edward sighs and gently pulls my hand back toward himself, using enough force to take my choice away. "Edward, it's fine. It doesn't even hurt," I lie.

"Tell your face that," he mumbles, distracted by his task of unwrapping the bandaging. I just close my eyes, no longer fighting what is so obviously the inevitable. As soon as the air touches my skin I want to both sigh in relief and itch at it like a madwoman. Edward's sharp gasp has my eyes snapping open to look down at my freshly revealed skin. My eyes widen at the sight.

It's discoloured, a mixture of purple and red. And it's also swollen. Very swollen. I have the wrist version of cankles. Is there a technical name for that? There are indents from where my bandage has been digging in, running deep into my swollen skin. "Did someone push the door shut?" Edward asks, still in a state of shock.

My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I search for an answer. "I told you. It was windy."

Edward doesn't question my reasoning. He's still staring at my injury. "I-I'm going to get my dad," he announces, gently letting my hand go to step away. I reach out with my other hand to fist his shirt. My plan is to beg him not to, but one look at the concern on his face and my hand falls away.

I sit down on the edge of Edward's bed, defeated as he leaves the room. He's gone barely a minute before he returns, with a genuinely concerned looking Mr Cullen hot on his heels. Edward stands off to the side while his dad picks up my hand to inspect it. He hums thoughtfully. He asks me to tell him when I feel any pain before he tries testing my limits, rotating my wrist this way and that, pressing on different areas. Most of what he does causes me pain, some more than others. Rotating is the worst.

"What happened? Edward told me briefly but he was in too much of a panic to make any sense." We both glance over to Edward who blushes lightly, even as he shrugs like it doesn't matter.

"It happened yesterday. A-after work. I was leaving and the wind slammed the d-door shut onto my wrist."

He hums again. "Have you been to the hospital?" I shake my head. I very rarely need to go to the hospital because of one of the injuries my mother causes. There have been a few occasions where it's been unavoidable. Like the first time: I'd made Renee some soup and bread, per her request, and was carrying it through to the front room when I'd tripped on a shoe I hadn't seen that was lying in the middle of the entrance hall. One of her shoes. The soup had gone everywhere, and I'd tried to clean it all up, but during the fall I'd twisted my ankle and struggled to weight bare afterward. Surprisingly, at first, Renee had acted the perfectly concerned and caring mother, helping me up and taking me to the hospital. She told them I'd tripped on a shoe that I had left lying around ("you know how careless kids can be", she'd told the doctor), and they sent me away with a bandaged up sprained ankle, and a crutch to use for a few days. As soon as we got home, my mother's attitude changed. It darkened. She went from worried to angry, showing me what she really thought about my "fucking clumsiness" as she snatched the crutch from underneath my arm and began hitting me with it. I was left with bruises covering a majority of my body, and was so glad it was winter so I didn't have to swelter in jeans and long tops at school while those bruises faded.

"Have you told your mother?" is Mr Cullen's next question. Again, I shake my head. At his disapproving look, I quickly try to explain in a way that won't raise any red flags in his mind.

Basically, I come up with an excuse.

"I didn't want to tell anyone. Edward only found out because he's so insistent." A hint of anger touches my tone, but I quickly try to back pedal when I remember who I'm talking to. "I mean... I... sorry, I didn't mean to insult y-your son." I ignore Edward's chuckle. "It's just that it's embarrassing, you know?" I look down at my lap.

"What is?" Carlisle asks, pulling his grey suit pants up a bit at the knee so he can crouch down comfortably beside my legs.

"Not many people manage to close a door on their own arm! I was embarrassed, so I didn't tell anyone."

"Okay," is all Carlisle says on the matter. "I would like to get an x-ray of your wrist, to be doubly sure, but I'm confident that it's just a minor fracture." Just? "Though painful, it should heal up on it's own in about six to eight weeks," - How long?! - "given the right amount of rest. Try not to overuse this arm for the next few weeks. Don't stop moving it completely, but avoid heavy lifting and things like that. I have a splint you can use, I don't think you'll require a cast. I won't give you a sling, but do try to keep it elevated for the next week or so as much as possible. If you'd like, I can prescribe you some pain medication?" he asks. I'm frozen for a moment, taking in all of the information, before I nod slowly. I could do with something for this excruciating pain.

"Okay. I'll sort the prescription out for you tomorrow. If the pain or swelling gets worse or you feel faint, nauseous, or you find your fingers or hand going numb at any time, please go to the hospital. I'll make sure to put this on your record." All I can do is nod silently, swept up in the whirlwind of information thrown at me in the last thirty seconds and the efficient, no-nonsense manner in which Mr Cullen relayed that information to me. You can so tell he's a good doctor. "Right," he says, slapping his thighs as he stands fully. "I'll be back in a minute with that splint."

As promised, he's back soon after he leaves, holding a splint which he helps me put on. He says to leave it a little loose for the next few days, until the swelling goes down, and then I can tighten it. I thank him, thinking that he's going to leave, but he doesn't. He stands by the door, looking at the two of us. He seems kind of nervous, unsure, which is highly strange for someone like Mr Cullen. It's such a drastic difference from how he was just moments ago.

"Is there something you needed, Dad?" Edward asks, also sensing the change in his father's dimina, as he walks over to the end of the bed and sits down beside me. Mr Cullen opens his mouth, thinks, hesitates, allows a lone syllable of "I-" to come out before he closes his mouth, shaking his head. He looks down at his watch, before raising his eyes to us again. I can instantly detect that the nervous few moment he just had, the little lapse in confidence, has passed. "How did you get here, Isabella?"

"I drove her here. Why?" Edward answers for me.

"It's pretty late..." He stops to think for a second. "Would you like me to drive you home, Isabella?"

Again, Edward answers for me. "No, it's fine, Dad. I can drive her home."

"Bella?" Mr Cullen prompts, ignoring Edward. I look between the two, at the two faces that are so similar, only differentiated by age.

"I-I'll be fine walking."

My response is met with a stunned silence, before both father and son break out in a chorus of, "Absolutely not!"

Carlisle is the one to continue, while Edward glares at me from my left. "It's pitch black out there. Not safe for you to be walking all the way home alone. If you don't mind, Edward or I will drive you."

I don't know why he said 'if you don't mind', because it's obvious neither Cullen will allow me to walk home. I just didn't know what else to say. They were both looking at me with the same expecting look, one slightly more desperate than the other, and I caved in on the little voice that was telling me to not burden them both with the task of dropping me off at home. I've walked - or cycled - the route thousands of times before. I wouldn't have gotten lost... though I know that's not what's stopping them from saying yes.

"I'll drive her home, Dad," Edward insists again, while I sit in silent thought. I didn't realise that I hadn't answered Mr Cullen yet. I blush and look back over to him. He tilts his head.

"Is that alright with you?" he asks me. I still can't understand the level of authenticity this man suddenly has toward me. Though I can sense he'd much rather not have to take me home, he's still making sure I'm okay with whatever is arranged. To be honest, this seems to be a big fuss over something so trivial.

I nod silently, offering him my first real smile. His lips pull up at the corners into something that resembles a smile, though it's restrained. "Okay. Well, I hope you enjoyed your evening." I nod and tell him that I did, thank you. Then he turns to Edward. "I want you back home immediately, Edward. No hanging around out there. You have school tomorrow and it's already late enough." I barely catch Edward's responsive nod as I get my phone out of the pocket of my dress to see just how late it is. Mr Cullen repeated that a couple times while in here. I gasp just as the door closes, the man stood in front of it now vacant from the room.

"We better go. It's really late," I say, a little panicked, as I stand from the bed. I let myself into the walk-in wardrobe Edward has, to fetch my cardigan.

"It's not too late. Do you really have to go already?" he whines as I exit the wardrobe, carefully sliding my left arm into the sleeve. The sight of the splint has me second guessing whether I thanked Mr Cullen or not. Shit. Did I?

"Edward, it's quarter to twelve. And as much as I'd rather stay longer, I can't."

"But you said your mom took away your curfew for tonight." He's still whining.

"I know. But that doesn't mean I can take advantage of it. Please, can you take me home?" My words come across desperate now, but to be quite honest, I don't care. I am desperate. He doesn't understand how important it is that I get home right now.

Edward simply stares at me for several seconds, before a slow smirk makes it's way onto his face and he sinks down to the edge of the bed. Oh, how I want to wipe that smirk off his face right now. "And what if I don't want to take you home yet?" he asks, crossing his arms. He looks so proud, which only makes me want to wipe that damn smirk off his face even more.

I set my shoulders back and stride toward him purposefully. Leaning down, I kiss his cheek like I did this morning, and say, "Happy birthday, Edward," before I turn on my heel and march for his inner bedroom door.

"Hold up," he says, rushing toward me. He spins me around with my right hand. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to walk home."

He shakes his head, looking a little panicked. "No you're not."

"Fine, then I'll go find your father and ask him to take me home," I tell him, having absolutely no intentions to do as I say. The proud smirk he had is gone. HA!

Edward sighs. "No, don't do that either. I'll take you."

I smile victoriously. "Thank you," I sing as I turn and open his door.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles from behind me, swiping his keys before following me out.

After thanking Mrs Cullen and Mr Cullen together, Edward and I enter the garage and get into his car. He starts the engine, opens the garage door with that awesome little remote he has, and then he backs out into the startlingly empty drive way. Startlingly - compared to how it was when we arrived.

He turns us round, having enough room to do so now nearly everyone has left. My eyes are drawn to where I know the gap in the trail to what I still consider my meadow is. It's too dark to actually see it, but I know it's there, and that's enough to ignite the longing that's forever a dull ache in my chest.

"What are you looking at?" Edward asks, and I look back to him, only just noticing that he has us idling in front of his house. I look back in the direction of my meadow for a minute, contemplating my options here. No one knows about my meadow. No one. But for some reason, there's a strong part of me that wants Edward to know about it. I've come to trust him very much. It wouldn't hurt to tell someone about my place.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. It's no use.

"Do you remember the day we met?" I ask, keeping my face turned away from him. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, anxiously, as I await his reply.

"In the school corridor? Or do you mean the very first day we met?" The curiosity is already heavily influencing his voice.

"The very first," I clarify, turning my focus back to Edward. I expand no more than that. I watch as his eyes dart to the blackness behind my head, and that's when I know for sure that he understands what day I'm referring to. He nods silently, looking back at me. I take another deep breath, turning away again. "I've been coming to this part of town for years."

Silence.

"Why?" he eventually asks, his voice soft in the quiet of the car.

"There's a place hidden in those trees," I say in a much calmer tone of voice than I'd expected, as I raise my hand to point at where I mean.

"What kind of place?" he asks, his curiousity somehow intensified. I look back to his face, back into his emerald eyes that remind me so much of the greeness at my meadow. I search for the kindness and the friendship Edward has so willingly given to me since his arrival in Forks over two months ago. The warmth I see in them solidifies in my mind the decision I think I made sometime before tonight, I just hadn't realised it until now.

"You want me to show you this weekend?"

He looks a little confused, probably at how cryptic and secretive I'm being about this hidden place. How ever confused he may be, it doesn't stop him from nodding eagerly.

"You promise you won't go looking for it before then?" I ask, slightly joking but mostly serious.

"Of course. No. I'll wait," he rushes to reassure me. I silently nod and face forward, waiting for Edward to take me home.

A/N: Drop me a review to let me know your opinions! Getting to the next development in their friendship soon ;) that's all I'll say on the matter.

Though this update is a day late, I won't change my usual schedule. I'll still post tomorrow as planned. Bye for now!