Theme #18- Listen to the music at night...for the 30 Nights community on livejournal. I thought I would go ahead and post it here, and just let you all get a peek at it, too! Also, if you have a livejournal account, I encourage you to join twilight(down slash)fics. It's still rather small, but I'm sure that with you all making contributions and such to it, it'll be a great success. I'll continue to add my pieces as they get done. Sadly, I don't know how long they will take, but I do hope to finish my claim as soon as possible and keep you all waiting for as little amount of time as I can manage. Now, on with the show!

Disclaimer: Twilight and all of it's characters are owned by Stephenie Meyer.

Warning: I was listening to Avril's new song when I wrote this so my sappy/romanticness is dried up and shriveling. Sorry... I don't even like Avril, the song is just too addictive and I couldn't think without it. sighs Perhaps I should sue...

Tap Tap

She hated silence almost as I much as I did. In the car, she would strum her fingers lightly against her knee when we neither had the radio playing or were talking. That simple and calm rhythm was just enough to soothe her through the car ride. It was slightly mesmerizing, I noticed. One would think that a simple tap, tap, tap would not be nearly enough to ease you through a distressing silence but for her it did the job just as well as a blaring radio would. Perhaps, even better.

Her gentle strumming helped to ease her worries, I knew. However, I don't think she knew of the effect it had on me. Watching her thin fingers rise and fall to tap away at her bony, clothed knee as her eyes gazed passively out the window to view to flying scenery was like no experience I remember. Do not, at all, assume that I haven't been through my fair share of experiences -both good and bad- and may be considered a little undereducated in the department. I have experienced much and even with said experiences in mind, I still consider it to easily take the award for the most epic scene I'd every taken view of.

Through the whole ride home, she was blissfully unaware of my constant gaze. Her focus seemed to rest solely on the passing blossoms and the setting sun. It's warm rays highlighter her hair creating streaks of gold and copper throughout. It reminded me, dimly, of a glowing fire flickering gracefully from between thin brown twigs and excess underbrush. Even still, it only faintly reminded me. The view of Bella compared directly to that offered no justice to the beauty and delicacy that I saw as I watched the colors shift and blend through her brown locks.

I only stopped watching to turn into her driveway. My hand never left the steering wheel as I watch her climb out of the seat quietly, smiling briefly before shutting the door and walking with long strides up to her door. Her prompt departure and lack of a proper goodbye didn't not leave me unsettled in the slightest. She knew I would be returning and had hated letting such an indecent word like 'goodbye' pass from between her pale pink lips. Even since the incident in Phoenix, she despised that word. When we were forced to separate, she'd press a soft kiss to my frozen lips and whisper a patient but quivering, "I'll see you, soon" before we went our separate ways. Goodbye was too permanent, she claimed, while "I'll see you, soon" spoke of a definite future. And that's what we wanted, wasn't it? A definite future? I pondered all of this during my run back towards her home. After parking my car and stopping in to inform Esme of my location, I departed without any further hesitation.

The kitchen smelled faintly of herbs, like those used when making roasted chicken and I noticed the droplets of water that was sliding slowing down the china plate resting on a faded cobalt dish towel. She'd just eaten and was probably preparing for her shower, as she usually did. With Charlie away for police work, the house was eerily silent and lacking. Though his belongings were still firmly in place, the lack of his presence had left the home feeling...barren, almost; too empty, too quiet.

The latter was broken by the sound of water rushing quickly through the pipes upstairs to the shower where I knew she was probably pulling the curtains aside to step in carefully. She had a nasty habit of slipping, recently, and I had warned her jokingly the night before to watch her step and stay away from the perilous soap bars. They had it in for her, I was sure.

Laughing quietly at the memory of her procacious expression and bright eyes, I stepped onto the first step and then even further on. She wouldn't be out of the shower for a little bit, I knew but being even those few feet closer to her would be enough to sedate me until she deemed herself clean enough to join me. If only she knew that I would still stand beside her even if she hadn't bathed properly in a week. My love and addiction to her was far more powerful then any stench she could even muster up.

Late that night, she rested unmoving next to me in her bed, watching the flapping of her curtain and feeling tense. The silence was back again and I knew that she would never be able to fall asleep with it echoing harshly throughout the hollow house. I wished I could do more; lull her to sleep or steer her mind from the lack of noise that bothered her so but I knew of nothing that I hadn't already tried. I pulled her just a little bit closer to my chest and sighed in defeat when I realized that I knew of nothing because there was nothing I could do for her at that point.

Feeling weak, I let my mind flutter away to that evening at the restaurant when she'd smiled with élan when I'd mentioned a recipe I'd found to be quite disgusting the night before and the drive home when I'd watched her finger tap, tap, ta-

The idea was sudden, flooding my mind and overtaking the memory I had been reflecting on. I tried to reason with myself; tell myself that it wouldn't work, but my more intelligent side said to try. Even a failed attempt would be an attempt. So, I did.

My fingers strummed lightly, at first. The sound was barely caught by my ears and instantly I knew that she couldn't hear it, either. I paused, reconsidering, before strumming lightly again. I kept the rhythm slow, calming and quiet. I tried my best to create the melody for the song I'd written for her but after finding I couldn't get it perfect, choose to just go on with a rhythm straight from my mind. It seemed to do just as well of a job, I noticed, as I felt her body ease slightly and her breath slow to a patient melody to accompany my tapping.

It took only minutes for her to fall asleep with a quiet, "thank you, Edward..."

I smiled, slightly and paused to look down at her with curious eyes. It all seemed so familiar, I noticed. The steady rhythm playing in the back of my mind and the desperate need for music to fall asleep. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and let the memory of a long, sweet song play over in my memory... a memory from long ago...

Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap...