A/N:
Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns the plot and characters of Twilight, not to mention all the money it makes. I make nothing but fanfiction.
This and the version on Tw'd are caught up now, so I'll upload the next chapter here as soon as it gets validated there. Thanks for those of you that have switched over and come out to review, and thanks to the new readers who have said nothing but awesome about this story. You guys are truly delectable.
Chapter 11 – "Christmas"
Whatever we had shared, it was over. Like it was never there at all. She took all of our possibilities with her when she got out of my car and never came to the window to wave good-bye.
I drove in circles for hours, stopped at the gas station and drove around some more. I was frantic. Something had gone wrong. Something horrible had changed everything so that I was back to where I started from. Back to square one, with Bella glaring at me, furious with me. Hating me. Loathing me. Me, helpless to change it. I was under no delusions that it was something I'd done that had changed Bella's attitude towards me. I knew it was all her. So what had changed? She had kissed me. But disaster hadn't struck until I had kissed her back. So was that my mistake? But then why had she kissed me? Was it completely over? Was there nothing I could do to salvage that strange but wonderful brand of kindness that was uniquely Bella? I admit, I became obsessed.
And with that realization, I raced back to her house. I needed to tell her… something. That she meant something more to me than a potential fuck or a round of coital good times. That I needed her. That I wanted her. That she had possessed my mind and my soul.
The cruiser was outside, and I hesitated because her truck was not. Taking a deep breath, I marched to the door and knocked. I told myself I was being brave. This was the right thing to do. I needed to talk to her.
Her father answered, his eyebrows raised. "Edward, what can I do for you son?"
I swallowed. "Is Bella here, Sir?"
He smiled. "'Fraid not. She went down to see Jacob. You can call her if you need to, she tends to forget herself."
My face must have been a Hindenberg of dismay, because his expression faltered.
"I'm sure she'll come back right away if it's important." She'll never come back.
"Thank you, Sir." I barely managed to sound civil, and I wasn't even sure I managed that much. I walked back to the car in a stupor, and the whole manic drive home I was hoping I'd get into an accident.
She was with Jacob. She had run to him. She didn't want me.
And then, the ultimate act of cowardice, I didn't go to school the next day. I lay in bed, replaying my favorite moments spent in her company, and silently and mournfully bidding them good-bye. The night under the stars. Seattle. All those mornings we talked about music. The shivering time spent in the hollow of that tree. That one I cherished most.
That night in my dreams she looked up at me, her eyes wide and beautiful and asked, "Do you love me, Edward?"
"Yes." It was a fervent oath, a solemn vow. I loved her.
She smiled sadly, brushed her fingers against my cheek and walked away. Away down the tunnel, towards the sound of the revving bike engine and the shadowed man waiting for her.
When I wouldn't go to school the next day, Carlisle asked if I was sick. I told him I just wanted to start the holidays early. So I missed school for the rest of the week.
Alice called. Emmett called. Rosalie called. By the third day, even Jasper called. But Bella didn't.
***
I stared at the ceiling, ignoring as best as I could the music filling the house from the west wing. I knew Carlisle would be listening to it all night. He'd pass out drunk on the floor with the record still playing. He always thought of Mom on the holidays, and Christmas this time was going to be particularly hard on him. I knew he felt guilty for hitting it off with Esme. I knew he would want to wallow in her memory. But I was too busy wallowing in my own thoughts. The loss of Bella had struck me hard, harder than it should have. I should have cared less. I should have shrugged it off. I should have been out somewhere being young and insubordinate. But all I could do was the same thing I'd done all week. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, terrified of the reality, the all too painful reality, that Bella still hated me.
It had been agonizing before, the first days I spent in Forks. But now it was torture. I loved her. There was no doubt of that left in my mind. I was hopelessly enamored, completely captivated and ridiculously devoted. That the first girl I'd ever felt that way about could hate me, the kind of intense non-malicious hatred she so clearly was capable of, literally broke my heart.
Edward fucking Cullen, bedridden of a broken heart. I was truly pathetic, but too miserable to care.
All I could think about was that whatever reprieve she'd granted me these past few weeks was over. And she had just spent Christmas with Jacob Black, and maybe she was still at his house doing God only knows what and who was I kidding? I knew exactly what they were doing. The sight of her with him was forever branded into my memories. It was all too easy to fill in the blanks. To know what would have followed naturally. If it had been me instead of him with her, I knew how it would have ended. Only it wasn't me. It was him. Or some other guy. But never me.
Dizzy and mentally exhausted, I was dozing when I heard the steady tapping against my window. I tried covering my head with my pillow, annoyed already, but the sound persisted, and suddenly there was a loud smack against the glass. I looked up, alarmed, and nearly swallowed my tongue.
Then I nearly broke my neck as I launched myself out of the bed and, tangled in my sheets, stumbled and nearly fell against the window in my haste to open it. I flung it wide and gripped her arms, and she gripped mine back as I pulled her into my room. She was freezing. "You're freezing." Oh Jesus, had I just said that out loud? The girl I'm madly and pathetically in love with comes into my room through the window after the most disastrous yet wonderful kiss of my life, followed by over a week of no contact at all, and the first thing I say to her is that? "Bella-"
But that was all I got out, because suddenly her arms were around my neck, and her lips were on mine and my God, she tasted like oranges and peaches and something magic and she was so soft in my arms as I wrapped them around her waist, pulling her up to me, pressing her flush against my chest and wondering if this was a dream. Did I even care? Every night I dreamt of her, asking me if I loved her, and I did, so much. But every night she walked away and left me alone. If this was a dream it was the best damn dream of my life. I would pay for it later, but right now I just wanted more of this. I ran my tongue across her lips and they parted readily for me, and the inside of her mouth tasted just as perfect as her lips did.
And I knew she was real, because my dreams never could have conjured up this perfection.
She pulled away suddenly, and I released her with a groan. With her standing two feet away from me, my thoughts battled to find their way to the forefront of my brain, but the scent and taste of Bella kept them at bay. She threw off her jacket – my jacket, the one I had given her, the one I loved her in more than I ever dared to admit out loud – and I swallowed. She was gripping the hem of her blouse now, and that too went over her head and was cast aside, and I suddenly realized, in a dull moment of panic and ecstasy and euphoria, that she was stripping, and there was no cliff here.
I couldn't connect any dots. "Bella, what are you doing here?"
The question I should have asked the moment I saw her. The question that should have taken precedence over any observation about her body temperature. She shook her head, walking towards me and throwing her arms around my waist, tucking her face against my chest and I was hit with a violent wave of her smell, her hair literally inches from my nose, her breasts pressed into me and I knew I was lost. She started kissing my chest through the thin cotton of my t-shirt, and my heart rate picked up into unhealthy speeds.
I touched her shoulders, bare and riddled with goose bumps and scar tissue, soft and perfect and still so cold, and I pulled her to me again as I devoured her mouth. The taste. I would never get enough. She gripped my t-shirt in her little fists, tugging at it in frustration, and I reluctantly released her lips long enough to help her pull it over my head while she pulled me backwards and I collapsed on top of her on my bed. Dear God, Bella was in my bed, and she looked so perfect laying there, panting in her simple white bra, her hair a tangled damp mess across my sheets. So perfect. I looked at her until she blushed, then leaned forward and kissed her softly, tenderly, pouring my heart out into the tiny movement of my lips against hers. I love you. I chanted it in my head because I knew I could never say it to her. I love you I love you I love you.
With a strangled whimper she gripped the waistband of my sweatpants and tugged them down, first with her hands, then with her legs. My boxers went with them. I kicked them off and pressed myself into her, and again she whimpered. Her eyes widened when I pulled away to look at her, and I knew she felt it. How much I wanted her. What her presence here did to me. My mind railed against my body that something wasn't right. I still couldn't connect any dots. I still didn't understand. My heart was soaring though, and I knew I couldn't stop. Not if my life depended on it. Not now that she was here, and her body was mine to worship. Because I wanted to worship her. With my fingers and my lips and my tongue and everything else, I wanted to worship her.
I love you.
She lifted her head and threw one arm around my neck, the other hand reaching down to undo the buttons on her jeans. I helped her, then tugged them down while she kicked off her shoes, panties and all so that she was in nothing but her bra. She rolled us over, and straddling me, her hot wet center pressed into my hardness, she reached behind her and unclasped the bra and there she was. Gloriously naked. Perfect in the moonlight. Gorgeous in every way. Her breasts were perfect, her nipples erect, and I wanted so badly to touch her and see if they would fit as perfectly in my hands as I imagined. I couldn't touch her, I couldn't even open my mouth to protest when she reached down and gripped me in her little hand, still freezing. Her touch sent a jolt through my body, and I bit my lip to keep from exploding then and there. She lifted herself, and I felt the tip of my cock come into contact with her. There. So warm and already wet. Ready for me. Oh God, Bella was wet and naked on top of me. When she started to inch down, swallowing me with her pulsing heat, I groaned and bit my lip again. God. So fucking tight. She breathed a moan, soft and content and I knew she felt it, too. Complete. Perfect. Fucking perfect.
I gripped her waist as she started to move, begging her with my eyes to please wait, give me a moment. Because it was all too much, the sensation of her, the ethereal vision that she was in the dark, the impossible fact that it was her, it wasBella, and I wanted to soak in the moment. But her body adjusting to me, her walls clenching and unclenching in all the right places was torturous. Growling, I flipped us over, and she let out a small squeak of surprise. Resting my weight on my elbows, I pulled back slowly, looking into her eyes. She panted, watching me. Her big brown eyes were full of lust, of want, fear and sadness. I wanted to kiss it all away. So I did. As I thrust back into her, I took her lips in mine, cradling her head with one hand so I could tilt it at the right angle, so I could taste every corner and crevice of her heavenly mouth. She moaned. I moaned. I moved again.
Her hands gripped my waist, travelled up my back and explored my chest, leaving a trail of burning flesh in their wake though her fingers were still cold. I kissed down her jaw, showered her neck with love and attention, and rested my head in the crook of her shoulder. It was getting harder to breathe. My world contracted, shrunk and became the hot wet center where we were connected. My eyes blurred, then I was seeing nothing at all, and she moaned and lifted her hips to meet my every thrust. I lowered my head and kissed her chest, found her breasts and kissed her nipples, took her flesh into my mouth and tightened my grip on her. I wanted to absorb her into myself. I wanted to melt into her and become a part of her. Her. Bella. In my arms. Bella in my bed. Bella, Bella, Bella. "Bella, Bella, Bella…"
I don't know when my mental anthem became vocal, but I realized suddenly that it was. I could hear myself repeating her name like a prayer, and I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't fight the words back. I gripped her tighter and she moaned again, and as her arms clenched around me and her legs began to shake, I knew she was close. I wanted nothing in my life more than I wanted her to come for me then. But as her walls tightened, as her muscles fluttered around me, I knew my own release wasn't far off. Somewhere I found enough brain cells to move my hand down to her clit, and I brushed my fingers over it once, twice…
She cried out, a sudden hoarse sound that echoed in my room and filled my head, a sound I would never in my entire life forget. I felt her clamp down on my length, felt her grip me with a force that wouldn't be ignored and pushing into her one last time, I groaned into her shoulder, biting the soft scarred flesh there and pushing myself as far into her as I could, deep, deep into the wonderland that was her. Bella. "Bella…"
I was spent, and so was she, and I didn't want to pull out. I wanted to stay inside her forever. My entire body shook with exertion, my head was clouded and fogged, and I never wanted to leave the warm embrace of her arms. I could smell her, and I inhaled deeply. Citrusy. Flowery. Sweaty. Bella. My Bella.
Mine.
The clouds disappeared. The fog dissipated. I blinked and my vision returned as well. Slowly, carefully, I lifted my head and looked at her face. An angel. The flush of her skin was visible even in the moonlight, unlike anything I'd ever seen. Her head was thrown back, her chest rising and falling with the effort of easing her breath, and her eyes were closed. Reluctantly, I pulled out of her, and she bit her lip and turned her head to the side. Her eyes remained closed.
"Bella?" My body finally silenced, my mind raged. What had happened? Why had she come? What did it mean?
She shook her head, her eyes shut tight, rolling over onto her side and curling up into a small ball. My heart ached. She was unhappy. I wanted to kiss it away. I showered her shoulder and neck with kisses, I nipped and touched every inch of skin I could reach. She didn't speak a word.
Eventually I lay down behind her, folding her into my arms, holding her to my chest, playing with the hair that fell onto my shoulder. I couldn't see her face like this, but I told myself I'd do whatever it took to make her smile again. To make the sadness and fear in her eyes go away. Her breathing slowed down, and I knew she was sleeping when she began to mumble incoherently. I smiled to myself. She talked in her sleep, and I never thought I'd find that adorable but I did. God, I did. She was so perfect this one little thing just made her more so. As the sky brightened, I began to notice strange shapes of discoloration on her hips and arms. I brushed her hair off her shoulders and found more of them. Bruises. And there on her neck, angry red spots. Fuck. What the fuck happened? I gripped her more tightly in my arms, kissed her shoulder or the top of her head. I inhaled her. I linked my fingers with hers. When she woke up we'd have to talk about it, and she'd have to tell me why she was hurt. And then I would take care of it. I would take care of her, because she was worth it. So perfect. I love you.
Leaning forward, I found the shell of her ear. "I love you," I whispered, and she shifted in her sleep. There would be time to talk in the morning. For now, I wanted to watch her sleep. I could have watched her sleep forever if eventually I hadn't been too exhausted to keep my eyes open.
I wish I had stayed awake.
Because in the morning, she was gone.
AN/
We're about 4-5 chapters from the end now. Hang in there, children...