I wrote this one shot last week, but I waited to post it until today because tomorrow is father's day in England (I don't know about anywhere else). It doesn't have anything to do with father's day, really, but I thought it'd be an appropriate date to upload it :)
Of course, I do not own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does.
In Edwards Point of View:
As the ivory keys of the piano brushed against my hovering fingers, I let my mind conjure the perfected image of my beloved wife as I played. Music was such a personal thing, so completely a part of that person; it was only natural that my music always brought the image of my darling Bella to my mind when I played because she was such a huge part of me.
The other part was made up of my beautiful daughter, six years old and already experiencing the horrors and torments of adolescence that I'd only experienced myself during the time when I first met Bella, the feelings of love and lust being felt for the first time.
Hitting a big crescendo, I closed my eyes and listened to the music piece, thinking of Bella who was spending the night in a hotel with Alice after accompanying her to a clothing function. She'd replaced Rosalie at the last minute who had pulled out to go gallivanting off with Emmett to Mexico.
Every note I hit, I made sure (after much practice and perfection) I had the precise amount of pressure on the keys to give it that flawless flowing melody.
But my concentration, on both Bella and my music, was suddenly cut short.
My mind was filled with deafening curses towards a certain Jacob Black; usually, I would not complain and let them to pass with a smug smile. But under the circumstances – the circumstances that meant my precious daughter was standing with her wet clothing clinging to her skin with tears running down her face – meant that I was certainly not okay with passing this by.
"Honey, what's the matter?" I asked immediately, standing off the piano bench but contemplating between moving towards her and offering a comforting touch or to remain where I was. My precious Renesmee was a teenager now, in terms of her physical and emotional age, and I felt the rejection every time she shrugged off my attempts of kiss her goodnight.
Her bottom lip trembled. It was such a small movement in contrast to her overall still body, but my eyes never left that gentle shaking. That small quiver made me ache with a desire to put it right. I could not have my daughter so distraught.
"H-he doesn't w-w-want me anymore, Daddy."
Daddy – I hadn't been daddy for a long time now. Dad, occasionally, when she needed something, but I often got shunned away with an embarrassed glare. In some ways, it was comforting because Bella was treated with the same hurtful treatment, as was Alice and Rosalie. Emmett, however, seemed to have developed an unexplainable bond with Renesmee, confusing me beyond belief as Emmett was the joker, the one who always brought the biggest blush to her cream cheeks. I'd seen in her mind that it was because there wasn't any tension, no awkwardness. I wanted to give her that so desperately, but it wasn't natural. As it turns out, forcing something to be only adds to the tension.
I watched, helpless, as another steaming tear trickle down her cold cheek that was rosy from the cold.
"Now, now, honey; you know that's not true."
Protesting didn't work, however, as Renesmee shook her head viciously. Her bronze curls fell out of their confinement, and the blue bobble fell to the floor with a faint, almost silent thud that my vampirism picked up. It also picked up on every shaking of her fragile body, every sudden intake of breath, and every splash of tear that trickled to the floor.
"Come on, sit down. Calm down," I encouraged, moving over to the couch where she followed me.
Smiling warmly, I patted the space beside me, hoping Renesmee would sit there and let me help her. She was so obviously upset, and it broke me inside to have my precious baby girl feeling like this. With each silent tear, there was a spasm of pain tweaking me inside, but I managed to keep all hints of distress out of my facial expression.
But Renesmee surprised me as she knelt on the couch, and shuffled towards me noisily, with heaving sniffs, before placing herself on my lap.
If I thought "Daddy" had gone out the window a long time ago, sitting on my lap had disappeared long before that. It had been 'weird, inappropriate and embarrassing' I'd been told. But as a father, what could I do? I put on my best smile, and assured her I was okay when she sighed with guilt, despite that inside I was slowly eroding away at my little girl growing up so fast.
"How did you get home, honey?"
"Don't g-get mad, Daddy, please." She sniffed loudly, hiccupping once and then burying her face into my chest that was slowly growing damp from Renesmee's priceless tears. Although she couldn't see, I shook my head. As if I could get mad at my bright, brilliant daughter who brought me so much happiness. "I ran."
I sighed, knowing this was the answer. It took every ounce of willpower to keep myself out of Renesmee's mind.
That had been another heartbreaking conversation; the time when Bella and Renesmee had approached me, without warning, and Renesmee requested that I stayed out of her head as much as I could. It was 'weird, inappropriate and embarrassing' to have her mind reading father listening to every thought that crossed through her not-so-innocent mind. And I accepted, for my sake as much as Renesmee's; the thought she sometimes conjured were not for a father to acknowledge.
"I h-had to get a-away from him, Daddy. He wanted m-me to stay, or bring me h-home, but I c-c-couldn't!"
Renesmee's chest rose and fell against mine quickly as she sobbed. Very gently, I moved my hand from being wrapped around her shoulders up to her head where I could carefully run my fingers through her beautiful bronze curls. How proud it made me that she shared my hair, that my parenthood was so prominent and obvious because of the similarity.
"It's okay, honey. I'm not mad," I tried to soothe, although I felt myself getting increasingly annoyed with Jacob Black. As much as I tried to reason with myself, all he ever seemed to do was cause trouble for me and my family – but more importantly, my treasured girls.
Slowly, I waited patiently for Renesmee's head to rise so she could look up at me. And without fail, she did after several moments of silence that was only broken by the ticking of the mantel clock, and the heaving shaking breaths that escaped Renesmee's tiny mouth.
Her eyes red, her lips a little puffy, and her cheeks tear stained – all I wanted to do was wipe away her hurt. What amazed me most was that Jacob had caused it all, when he was as devoted to making her happy as I was. It was that knowledge and understanding, and only that, which prevented me from ripping his doggy throat out.
"He…" Renesmee hiccupped again. "He s-sat me down. And he said he h-had something t-to tell me. I felt sick, Daddy. And then he started explaining im-im-imprinting." She paused for a moment, to wipe her eyes and sniff loudly. "So I asked him straight out if he'd imprinted on s-someone."
Her chocolate brown eyes widened as her eyes met mine, shimmering under the thin screen of tears. But then her face suddenly scrunched up, as if she were in agony, and I felt her fists clench my thin grey t-shirt that I'd placed on after my shower earlier.
"He said… he… he said y-yes, Daddy!"
Renesmee wailed, and those heartbreaking sobs broke out from her chest again. I let them come, knowing that stopping them short of their course would only cause pent up anger that really wouldn't benefit anyone; we all knew Renesmee's tempers weren't something that we liked to be on the receiving end of.
It'd happened once, when I'd been so brutally attacked in the worst form of father/daughter confrontation. When I'd sternly asked Renesmee to explain why she'd returned two hours over her curfew, it'd been 'weird and inappropriate' to me to keep prying. Her thoughts let nothing up so I tried harder, asking if she'd been with a boy. "Why are you such an embarrassing dad?' she'd screamed. "I hate you." Three short words that added to the pain and torment of being a father. But what could I do? I gulped back the excruciating pain that was coursing through me, nodded my head once and left Renesmee to deal with her frustration herself. I'd received an apology afterwards, but that could never completely take the sting away.
"Honey, you should just listen to Jacob. Did you wait for him to explain?"
"No!" She exclaimed, aghast. "Why would I want to sit there and l-listen to him talk about this g-girl he's in l-love with?" She spat disgustedly, and I sighed.
Would I be scolded for intervening? Would I have my hand slapped away for relieving my daughter of her inner torment, or would it be appreciated? I never knew what was right anymore, how to behave, and what to say. Anything and everything could trigger that little bomb inside of her that could cause destruction. Esme and Carlisle both told me it was normal, and Bella briefly remembered her rebellious stage, although she'd laughed when she said she remembered it lasting about an hour before she finally collapsed under the overwhelming guilt and exhaustion of defying Renée, who was pretty much oblivious anyway. I only hoped that with age, my grown up daughter would, in some ways, become my little girl again.
Tonight, it seemed, I got some of my wish.
But before I could react, before I could make a final decision, the door flung open and the taste of wolf formed at the back of my throat as Jacob's scent stung my nostrils.
Jacob looked much like Renesmee, if not worse. His hair was glistening with the small rain drops settling in it's next of black. His brown eyes radiated regret and anger, although they seemed relieved at the sight of Renesmee in my arms, knowing she was safe. His heaving breathing and noisy pants echoed around the room.
"Nessie, it's you!" He breathed in defeat, coming over as far as he dared as my narrow eyes shot him down with arrows. "I imprinted on you."
Renesmee's head lifted, a large circle of damp on my grey t-shirt, but she didn't notice as she spun her beautiful head around to face Jacob who stood there, stripped bare of everything he could – the bare bones remaining, showing his truth and honesty for all to see.
"You're serious?"
"I wouldn't lie to you, Nessie. I couldn't. It's you, always has been." Jacob breathed, opening his arms to Renesmee as she flung herself off of me and into his spread arms, hanging onto him tightly as she clamped her arms around his neck. "Come back to my house? We can talk about it."
Only then did they both acknowledge me since Jacob had arrived; Jacob obviously realising he'd said something out of line, and Renesmee's eyes pleading with me for permission.
But what could I do? Refuse, and prepare myself for another emotional beating? I was the parent, and responsibility should be exercised. But Jacob's thoughts were clean, and Renesmee's eyes were so desperate, as she kept herself attached to Jacob's side.
One day, I'd have to let go. Of course I would. But after a minimal of six years to become accustomed to having a daughter, loving her so unconditionally, and watching her grow. I couldn't hold her back forever, nor did I want to be accused of being 'unfair' like I had when Renesmee had wanted to visit England with Jacob to see his sister who'd moved there recently. But England was so far away…
And so I did the one thing a father could do; I nodded my head, feeling weak with emotion, as I watched Renesmee throw me an off-hand smile as Jacob pulled her away, whispering the words 'only you' over and over.
I would have to wait for my Renesmee to come back to me. I'd have to wait patiently so she could outgrow this phase in her life, praying and hoping that she'd come straight back to me like a boomerang. Because there was truly nothing as important to me, besides my wife.
Helpless, I'd wait, because it was out of my hands now. It had been for a long time.
I moved back to my piano, hoping to transfer these fatherly emotions into my music, portray my impatience and devoted love through every note I made.
But as my first finger pressed delicately against the ivory, I felt a presence behind me. I didn't have to turn to realise who it was; I knew that scent better than anything, the innocence and tropical fruits all mingling into one, slightly tinted by the musky smell of a wolf.
"Thank you, Daddy." Renesmee breathed, pressing a quick kiss against my cheek before she ran off again.
My patience had paid off after all.
Just a quick note to tell you that I am a part of Fandom Gives Back this year. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to auction, but I'll let you know as soon as I do. Maybe you'd like to check out the auction soon? It's for such a good cause! The auction begins on the 26th June and ends on the 2nd July :)
Anyways, I'd love to hear what you think! So please review!
