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Edward went to his studio about midday, after he'd dealt with one of his agent's daily phone calls.
Bella hadn't spent the night, which was a rarity these days, but she had wanted to get a lot of work done and was planning to go to the British Library for some research in the afternoon.
Edward knew that he needed to finish two paintings he had started. The exhibition wasn't even four weeks away, and he still hadn't decided which pictures he was going to hang.
Bella brought him the inspiration he had been wanting for a long time. The drawing of her he'd brought from Wales had flourished into a painting. It showed her, not on a bed and in her robe, but in a meadow, sleeping on the grass.
He hadn't yet asked her whether it would be okay to include it in the show. The original sketch had shown a bit of nipple, which the finished work did not. Naked Bella belonged to himself alone.
Edward tried to work all afternoon, but found it hard to concentrate. His thoughts kept flitting here and there. Bella was always on his mind, and he imagined what she was doing and remembered their little holiday.
His mother had phoned the other day, and although she never voiced her thoughts, Edward knew that she was eager to meet his girlfriend. He wanted them to meet, too. After all, Bella had introduced him to her family, and they had been nothing but kind and respectful. He had no doubt his parents would show Bella the same friendliness, as would Rosalie and Emmett.
Maybe it was that he wanted to keep her to himself a little longer. Things had become so intense between them in such a short period of time.
He'd never experienced anything like this.
He and Irina had known each other for months before they even realized they were falling in love. He had no precedent he could follow. Everything was new.
Edward had never been an overtly jealous person, but with Bella, he found himself quite a bit possessive. He didn't like this new streak in himself very much.
Edward groaned when he realized that he'd been staring out of the window for thirty minutes. He returned to easel, but nothing he did sat right with him.
By four-thirty, he wandered down into the kitchen to get a cup of tea. Waiting for the water to boil, he pondered his creative block, which led to his old solution to most problems.
A drop of brandy might do the trick. He just needed to stop thinking. About the past, the present…
Edward fetched the bottle from the pantry and poured himself a small shot of Glenlivet, downing it swiftly. He poured another one and took it upstairs.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was that his system needed the familiarity of the procedure. He felt free to let go of his thoughts and just listen to his instinct.
He painted for an hour, only pausing once to take a sip of his second drink. His paintbrush seemed to move of its own volition. Things were getting into shape.
When the doorbell rang, it startled Edward and he felt almost as if wakened from a trance. He put another two strokes down before he went to get it.
Bella looked enchanting, her pale face a mirror to his own joy. She smiled as she took off her coat and boots before she kissed him.
"Hey," he mumbled against her mouth. "You're so cold." He pulled her close.
"Edward?"
"Hmm?" he nuzzled her nose with his.
"Did you… Did you drink, Edward?"
"Oh, that." He scratched his ear. "It was just a kick-start to get going."
He kissed her cheek and they walked to the living room. He couldn't interpret her face as they sat down.
"I haven't ordered the soup yet," he said. "If you want, we can have something else."
"No, no," she said. A smile was on her lips, but her eyes were far away. "Let's order soup. I've been looking forward to that all day."
oOo
Hello, my darling readers, I'm back. RL is somewhat difficult right now, which resulted in me having a severe case of writer's block. I will try to keep up with the daily updates, but there are no guarantees.
Love to you all!
Your
harperpitt