Chapter 7

Bella looked up and stared at Edward with what she was certain was a gobsmacked expression. His eyes seemed sincere, like the words he'd just said were actually true. And for a moment, she wondered if he was mind-reader.

Did he know how those words would affect her?

Could he possibly know it was exactly what she needed to hear?

It wasn't just his words, though. It was the way he was holding her hand – holding it and stroking her palm. And the same feeling was there again. The same soothing hum of electricity that she'd never experienced when someone else touched her. It didn't make her nervous. It didn't trigger panic of any sort. It did, however, trigger other things. Other…unexpected and unfamiliar feelings.

"I didn't mean to frighten you this morning," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "The last thing I wanted was to make you run off like that."

Bella took a deep breath. She supposed she needed to be honest, especially since he was being so honest, too. "You didn't make me run off. That was all me."

"What do you mean?"

She twisted her body around on the couch so she could face him directly. She never really talked about this with anyone other than her parents and therapist. She'd never been close enough to anyone who might want to know these things about her. And the idea that Edward could be someone she should want to share this part of her life with was more than a little terrifying. Because what if he didn't understand?

"I…ran off," she started. Her heart was pounding, and her shallow breathing made her mouth dry. "You see, sometimes I have panic attacks."

"And that was what happened this morning?" he asked. His expression was concerned, but his eyes held no judgment. At least, not that she could tell.

"It might be better if you just let me get this out," she said. "It's…difficult for me to talk about. Especially with someone I don't know."

He nodded, turning his body to match her position on the couch. And that one little action meant more to Bella than she could probably ever articulate. It made her feel like maybe he really did want to be there with her. And maybe, she would be able to tell him the truth.

"You see, whenever I have one, everything is harder for me. Sometimes, I find it difficult to focus. Sometimes, it's hard to breathe. And when it happens, any extra…stimulation…makes everything much more exaggerated and even harder to deal with. And this morning when I fell, you were there, and I was so….just so embarrassed by my own inability to even cope. And you were there, seeing all of it. And then you reached out to touch me and I just couldn't…take it," she said, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "And I just…had to get out of there. Does that make any sense?"

"So, you're saying that I made this worse for you this morning," he said sadly.

"No," she told him quickly. "You don't understand. I mean, yes, you being there was bad, but this isn't…it wasn't about you. It's just me. This is just how I am. I'm nervous all the time except when I'm alone. Being around people is…challenging. I take medication to help, and maybe it does help. I don't know, I can't really tell sometimes. But my point is that none of this was…is about you. This is just who I am. And I don't think it will ever change. I mean, well, it hasn't changed in my whole life. I mean, I can't remember a time when I wasn't like this. And it's been okay up 'til now. It hasn't really mattered because there hasn't been anyone I wanted to…" she stopped before she said too much. Maybe she already had.

She waited for him to pull away, to make some excuse and see himself out. But he didn't move. He just sat on her couch, looking at her and holding her hand. He was still holding her hand, and she didn't know what that meant. And then he asked, "There hasn't been anyone you wanted to what, Bella?"

Of course he would ask that question.

Of course he would.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply the whole time. And when she looked up into his eyes, it was with a sort of wonder that his expression was just the same as before. Like he wasn't about to run out of her apartment because she was too much crazy to deal with. Like he actually might really want to still be there.

And so she told him the truth.

"Anyone I wanted to be close to," she breathed. "Anyone I wanted to really know."

.

.

Edward had never wanted to pull anyone against him just to hold her there. Just to feel her in his arms and offer her comfort.

Until that moment.

Until Bella Swan.

She was like a hummingbird – fragile and frantic and fucking beautiful.

She told him she wanted to be close to him. And based on everything else she'd just said, telling him that was probably really fucking hard, so he told her the truth. "I want to be close to you, too."

As soon as he said the words, he knew they were true. Hell, he'd known them to be true even before. But now, Edward knew more. He didn't know everything, and he assumed she was probably editing some stuff out. But nothing she'd said made him want her any less. In fact, the idea that she was honest enough to tell him now showed that she was strong – stronger than she gave herself credit for.

And that made him want her even more.

"Really?" she asked. "You do? Even after everything I just told you?"

He laughed – he couldn't help it. "It's not like you told me you're a murderer, Bella. You told me you have anxiety."

"Actually," she hedged, taking a deep breath. "I have panic disorder and severe social anxiety."

Edward took in her words. He didn't know what 'panic disorder' was, but social anxiety seemed like something he could probably relate to. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I mean, I guess." She bit down on her bottom lip.

"Are you…panicking right now?"

"No," she said softly. "But I'm nervous."

"I told you, I'm nervous, too," he admitted. Part of him was hoping it would help her find some sort of common ground with him. And another part of him just wanted to be honest. Because he was nervous. Nervous he would say or do the wrong thing. Nervous that he would somehow fuck up this little bubble they seemed to be inside where he was able to sit this close to her, holding her hand, alone in her apartment. "I guess what I'm trying to ask – what I want to know is – are you scared of being alone with me? Does any of this make you uncomfortable?"

She looked at him, all sheepish smiles, with eyes that held secrets he couldn't discern. And fuck, but he wanted to.

"It's strange," she said quietly, though as intensely as he was listening, it could have easily been a shout. "I'm…not. This isn't – you don't…it's hard to explain." She squeezed his hand, her touch tender, but the additional compression made him stupid with wanting. "Do you feel that?" she asked. "That…I don't know. It's like, I have a hard time with just proximity to people. Like my personal space needs personal space. But this…" she paused, picking up his hand, and delicately stroked his thumb between her fingers. His breath caught, and he fought to control his body's reaction to her seemingly innocent touch. Because what Edward was feeling in that moment was anything but innocent. "This is different. It feels different when you touch me. It's…like electric or something. Like, exciting and soothing all at the same time."

Edward didn't say anything at first, mostly because he was shocked she was still being so open with him, and also because her touch was making him feel a thousand different things he couldn't wrap his mind around. And then he realized maybe he did understand what she was talking about. He'd never had trouble with physical contact, but whenever she touched him, especially the way she was currently touching him, it was different. Because she was different.

Bella affected him in a completely different way than any other woman he'd ever known.

"You probably think I sound crazy," she said.

"No," he said quickly, wanting to reassure her, even as he worked all this out in his mind. "Not at all."

He realized it was likely that Bella had never actually touched anyone she was attracted to…physically. And in all honesty, that really fucked with his mind to a great degree. Because, here he was, wanting nothing more than to cross the small space between them and kiss the shit out of her. Wanting to feel her fingers wrapped around something entirely different than his thumb. But that would be stupid as all fuck, and he would end up scaring her even more than she had been before. And he couldn't stomach the thought of doing something that would scare her. Not when she'd just admitted that she liked his touch.

Well, she hadn't said she liked it. She said it was soothing.

But she also said it was exciting.

Hadn't she?

Could she possibly be feeling exactly what he was feeling?

"What are you thinking?" she said, her voice so small it was almost a whisper.

"I was thinking there was something I wanted to try."

.

.

.

A/N

I know the day is almost over, but I'm posting before midnight, so it still counts as a new chapter every day.

Thanks to Marvar, who edited at a bonfire in the desert in the rain. She wins all the best friend awards. She's also pretty, and funny, and mostly just amazing in general.

Y'all, I love how much you love this B and E. Thank you for reading, and for caring enough to take the time to tell me what you think. (smooshes all of you to my boobs)

See you tomorrow!

Reviews are love.