Chapter 4

Bella found it difficult to settle down enough to sleep that night. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on her skin, the traces of fire that lingered where his fingers had gently touched her neck. It still burned – sparking hot and bright – just underneath the surface. It was something she hadn't expected, that feeling. The electricity she felt when he'd touched her was both terrifying and soothing. The former was expected, but the latter… Well, she'd done nothing but replay it in her mind since the moment he'd left.

No one had ever touched her like that. Well, no man had ever touched her like that. Unless you counted her father. But Edward's touch had been different from the gentle affection of her father. And not just for all the obvious reasons. The truth was that no man had ever touched Bella, her anxiety always a barrier she could never get past. She'd never had a normal, physical relationship with anyone of the opposite sex. She winced at the thought of the word.

Normal.

Her therapist didn't like when she used that word.

The truth of it remained, though. An ever-present reminder, constantly in the back of her mind, that normal was something she'd never have. How could she when no man had ever gotten close enough to try? Except now that wasn't true because he had.

Edward.

He'd come close – closer than she'd ever allowed anyone – and she let him in. Not just into her apartment, but into her personal space. She allowed it, and beyond that, beyond everything, including her severe panic disorder, she wanted him there.

Bella continued to ponder the evening's events as she watched the time pass on the glow of her alarm clock. She touched her neck in the same place he had, and as the darkness of night enveloped her, she finally surrendered to sleep with a singular thought in her mind.

Would it happen again?

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Edward couldn't stop looking at the elevator, waiting for it to open. The lobby was usually quiet at this time in the morning. In fact, Bella was usually the first person he saw on the days he worked. He looked down at his watch again. He was agitated, he realized, wondering which woman was going to approach him. Would it be the bashful Ms. Swan? The one who was too nervous to meet his eyes, and rushed past him on her way out to work. Or would it be the brave woman from her apartment? The one who stood so close to him he could smell the delicate scent of her perfume. The same one who'd let him touch her for only the briefest moment.

The chime of the elevator left him no time decide.

He'd stopped breathing, he realized, as he watched her step out into the lobby. Her head was down, and her chestnut hair covered her face.

God, he wanted to see her face.

She looked much the same as she always did. Unassuming, professional clothes, and shoes that were far too practical for a woman who made him lose his breath. She paused for just a moment, just long enough to make him wonder if he should approach her. But then she pushed forward, her feet moving so quickly it made her stumble. And Edward wasn't close enough to keep her from falling.

And she did.

Hard.

Without even thinking, he was at her side, offering her his hand to help her up. To his delighted surprise, he heard her utter a filthy word he would have never expected to come from her beautiful mouth. And just as he expected, her face flamed bright red, coloring her cheeks and all along the line of her neck. She finally looked up at him and met his eyes, and his heart dropped. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, as she said, "Excuse me."

"Are you okay?" he asked, wondering why she hadn't taken his hand. He reached out to grab her elbow, wanting nothing more than to help her up, but he felt her whole body tense, and she frantically, almost violently, scrambled back away from him.

"I'm…I'm fine." She stammered, angrily wiping the tears that had fallen on her cheeks with the back of her hands. Only, Edward could tell that she wasn't. He stilled, crouched down by the tile floor, watching, as the woman he'd done nothing but think about for the last twenty-four hours stood up and walked a wide path around him toward the door.

She was gone before he moved.

And he fought the urge to go after her, even though it made him feel like ten thousand kinds of assholes, because something inside him warned that would be the absolute worst thing he could do.

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"Fuck," Bella whispered to herself as she walked the five blocks to work. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." The words punctuated each step she took away from the building where she lived.

The building where he worked.

She should have known something like this would happen. She'd been a nervous wreck all morning, knowing he would be downstairs when she left. She'd decided she was going to speak to him again, the euphoric feeling from the previous night still lingering in her thoughts…and against her skin.

She'd been so stupid to think that what had happened between them wasn't some sadistic anomaly. She laughed bitterly as her thoughts drifted to normalcy, and what it might be like to have a relationship with a man. One where her anxiety wasn't so crippling she could have an actual conversation, or the physical contact she'd finally admitted she was craving. Even if she'd only admitted it to herself in the darkness of her own bedroom.

Of course she would fall.

Of course she would freak out when he reached for her, even though deep down she knew he was only trying to help. She'd just been so embarrassed, so completely mortified that she'd fallen. It wasn't even about his touch. Not completely, anyway. In fact, even through her sweater and shirt, she could still feel the same energy she'd felt when he touched her skin.

But none of it mattered now because she'd freaked out, and now, there was no way he'd ever try to touch her again. Or even talk to her for that matter.

She was in a full-blown panic attack by the time she reached the lab. She opened her messenger bag and took out the little pill case that held the thing she needed most – Ativan. She swallowed it without any water, and sat down at her desk. She would normally go home whenever something like this happened. But he was at her home, so now she would have to stay at the lab all day, and hope that she'd be able to function.

Thankful that she mostly worked alone, Bella laid her head on the desk, took slow, deep breaths, and waited for the medicine to kick in.

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A/N

Please don't kill me, lovelies.

I'm still giddy from the response to this fic. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts and feelings about Bella and Edward.

I love hearing what you think so much.

See you tomorrow!

Reviews are love.

PS: Huge thanks to Dr. Raina for lending her medical knowledge to me for this fic.

It was important to me that I depict Bella's panic disorder and social anxiety accurately.

She helped me do that.