Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer still owns Twilight. After seeing New Moon Edward Cullen owns us even more.

Massive thanks to Bri for still rocking the beta-world!

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Chapter 6 – Offering A Warm Embrace

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

(Bob Dylan – Make You Feel My Love)

Bella Swan

I invited him into my home, I helped him, I comforted him and he had the nerve to obviously lie to me. How could a grown man and CEO of a big firm state to have unwillingly saved a picture on his computer? This was getting ridiculous.

I had been too busy with creating my perfect little image of Edward Cullen to notice that the real one couldn't live up to the fictional one at all. It felt like the image was crumbling into dust right in front of me.

Even though I didn't know the real-life-version at all, I had instinctively trusted him. Yet, I was proven all wrong. That was exactly the reason why I was usually reluctant towards people. And now, I had to correct my mistake; I turned towards the door, planning to open it as an unmistakable sign.

But then Edward suddenly rattled out a laughable "I'm sorry" and I lost control. What was he even sorry for? Coming here? Using me? Being nice and adorable sometimes? Or, really, most of all, being stupid? I didn't know, what he was sorry for, but I knew exactly, what I regretted. That there was this part inside of me, that needed to help him, to trust him and to look out for him. Now, tell me, was this his fault now or mine? Confusion got the best of me, and I couldn't just keep quiet anymore. I turned to face him, my fingers pressing into my palms, desperate for some stabilisation.

Emotions took me over. I even cried. Any doubt I had inside of me wanted out, wanted to be removed. Edward admitted that he was stupid, but didn't give any more explanations. That made me just cry even more. He began to walk over, and I quickly stepped back. He shouldn't get closer, I was already muzzy enough. But then, something changed.

He said how my smile had made him happy. Well, that and that he thought that it was stupid. I had to admit that besides totally creepy his picture-saving was actually a little sweet too. He promised to never lie to me again and took another step in my direction. Somehow Edward had managed to ease my doubts almost completely. I wiped my tears away, but still felt the salt on my skin. I felt like that on the inside too: the anger gone, the lie excused, but all of this not forgotten.

I looked up, only to find a caring Edward looking at me.

Ironically he gave me what I had wanted to give him all night – a hug that probably could have calmed the shit out of a fairly serious riot.

I stopped thinking. No more head, just heart. I leant into him and with that he embraced me even tighter. And it felt … strangely right. My head nestled naturally onto a perfect spot on his chest and his heartbeat was flowing through me like a melody, filling a gap I did not realise I had inside of me. Murder, prison, lies, reputation, façade, money - it all didn't matter as there was no distance left between us. We connected.

Moments pass eventually, and so did the hug of a lifetime.

His phone woke me up from my emotional coma; I needed to break the contact. Get some air. Breathe. Think.

I didn't get to that point though, as I heard some Esme crying through Edward's mobile. He hesitantly told Esme that he was with a 'friend'. Why was he hesitating? As the conversation got further, I realised one thing: Edward and Esme were living together. And the bastard was soothing her, while he was in my living room, hugging me like that. His voice was all caring and sweet, telling Esme he loved her too.

It didn't take much to figure out I was an idiot. Of course Edward Cullen would have a nice supermodel girlfriend waiting for him at home. He didn't want to put her at risk, so he came by my place. Protect Esme, nevermind putting Bella in danger. What was it with this guy? Everytime I thought I had him figured out, I was simply proven wrong.

There was a connection between the two of us, but I mustn't be so stupid to think that would mean something furthermore. Edward seemed to be connected to half the female population of Newcastle. Not that this was worth anything - none of those relationships could possibly live up to the ones described in Live Forever for example. Edward seemed truly more like Wonderwall: overrated and surprisingly plain.

Even if all of this was no concern of mine, it bothered me that he didn't tell his girlfriend the truth. As much as I, she deserved to know the facts. Didn't he just promise me no more lies? I was part of this and it was wrong. I might even have to reconsider that he had a thing for Claire – he seemed to twist reality till it fit him best. Wasn't there still some salt on my skin from the tears that I had shed because of him?

Edward said something to me then, but I didn't really care. I was too lost in my own thoughts.

I wondered how serious Edward's relation with Esme was. With them living together, it seemed pretty sincere. I couldn't remember a Mrs. Cullen from my researches on him, so they weren't married; maybe engaged though. Poor future Mrs. Cullen was now probably sitting at home, wallowing over her fiancé's absence. Did she even know he had been arrested? You can't keep that from people so close to you, can you? She had to know about Claire's murder and everything that happened afterwards. A picture of Miss Esme formed in my mind: blonde, tall, big blue eyes full of tears, hugging Edward after he came home from the police questioning. He hugged her back and put a hand on her head, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead. My heart twitched with their intimacy and I tried to shoo those vivid thoughts away. With no luck, of course.

Engaged -- the more I thought about it the more it would fit Edward's lifestyle to be engaged to a wealthy, well-respected and of course super gorgeous and intelligent member of the circles he belonged to. To cut a long story short: everything I was not. I got sick to my stomach. Why was I even thinking about stuff like that?

Claire was dead. Compared to death, everything else looked quite superficial. Claire, was a middle-class woman like me, who I assumed, did not have to care about approval for her fiancé by the society. Without really thinking, I asked Edward if he knew how the poor guy had taken Claire's death.

Edward assured me that Claire wasn't engaged, but could I trust him? Well, he was rumoured to be obsessed with her, maybe he suppressed reality a bit. In fact he had handled the truth quite flexible during the last hours. The possibility of him lying to me again made me really angry. That, and the chance that he might actually have been involved with Claire while being with his Esme. I told him to get over it already.

What a fucking arse are you anyway. Settle for one woman at a time, bastard.

I was too polite to say that last bit out loud, but I mumbled it nonetheless.

I turned red from my harsh words, but nonetheless I thought he deserved it. My coffee had already gotten cold, so I put the mug down. Even more blood rushed to my face, indicating that Edward was looking intensely at me. His gaze flustered me and in any other situation, with anybody else, I would have stayed with my eyes glued to the table. But I was with Edward. Therefore, my body didn't really pay any attention to reasonable orders from my brain. Just because he stared at me, I was drawn to his eyes - I had to look up. We stared at each other for a couple of moments, and emotions flickered in his face: from disbelief to hurt and frustration, finally settling for surrender.

Was this my fault? Was he hurt because of me? I felt a pang of conscience.

He spoke with a calm voice, his eyes drawn to the floor.

"Listen, Bella. Claire was my assistant. I did not have any feelings or some weird kind of desire for her. I don't know why you would believe such a thing after all that happened tonight. I know now is so not the time, but before my mother interrupted us, I thought we were kind of --," he paused and looked up at me again, "-- connecting."

I am sure I forgot to breathe. The last remaining oxygen in my body kept rushing the blood through my veins. The look he gave me was something else, like he'd let me see straight into his soul:

Esme was his mother.

He was not in love with Claire.

The connection was there.

Though my brain found it hard to keep up, the heart was already a few steps ahead. If Esme was his mother, than there was no logical reason to judge him for being unfaithful. Maybe this was all a big misunderstanding. Only two people at Gateshead were insisting on Edward's relation to Claire. And really, if he had wanted her, he probably would have gotten his way with her. Just take a look at him.

"I should leave." Edward got up and took his coat.

I finally inhaled some fresh air.

I couldn't let him go like this. I just realised all those things and felt guilty for being brusque towards him. He still needed help.

"You never got your cup of tea." I tried to smile at him reassuringly, standing up myself and blocking his way.

"Please, Edward. You still have to figure out what to do, don't go all headless." I wasn't really sure what I was doing. There was only one thing I knew: I didn't want Edward to leave.

He sighed.

"I guess one cup would be fine."

I smiled; he was staying. Finally we would have a conversation without misconceptions. I went to the kitchen, hoping he would follow me and not silently disappear. I set some water up and got two new cups out. Edward stood in the door frame, seeming absent in his thoughts. Following my instincts - what was really all that was left due to my not cooperating brain around Edward Cullen - I turned the radio on. If there was a god, the guy definitely had a wicked sense of humour.

'Live forever' was playing.

I glanced towards Edward nervously, searching for any sign that he remembered our first meeting too. As I saw him grinning a little crookedly, I gladly smirked and pointed towards the small kitchen table.

"Have a seat and finally take a look at my notes in the folder right there on the table. Tea will be ready in a sec."

We both stayed silent, enjoying the soothingly gentle sound from the radio.

As I put our mugs on the table and sat down myself, I noticed Edward was staring intensely at the open folder in front of him. I leant back, took a sip and waited for him to say something. He didn't, but took a photo from the folder and held it in front of me.

Edward being pushed into the police cruiser.

"Oh!" I had totally forgotten about those. Edward looked at me accusingly. I could not stand it.

"What?" I blurted. "What do you expect? It's my job, alright?"

He shrugged, still not saying a word, still driving me crazy.

I tensed and leaned over the table.

"Just spill it, okay, anything you have to say!"

"Just because you have pictures of me, doesn't mean you're going to kill me, right?"

I was at a loss for words. He was mocking me. Hello to Edward Cullen, the unpredictable.

I rolled my eyes at his last comment and changed the subject.

"When you're finished admiring your own good looks, do you have any thoughts on my notes?"

"I didn't expect you to be this chaotic."

I glared at him.

"Seriously, you shouldn't take notes on all these different pages, how are you ever going to find anything again? Heck, I think there's even something written on a napkin in there."

"Whatever Edward."

"Just saying. Anyway, you wrote down that you didn't see Claire glowing in anticipation of a prospective wedding when you met her?"

I nodded because it was true. I hadn't sense anything like that. But I wasn't so sure anymore what was right and what was wrong.

"Maybe I simply missed it."

"Do you usually miss things while working?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Nope," I stated. Not because I was full of myself, but Ben always told me that I had a sixth sense for these things. Mostly I nodded, for the simple reason that Edward was trying to tell me something and I wanted to know what that was.

"See. And what about Mr. Barth, as you refer to him. Your notes say you got the feeling his statement was almost too carefully worded." He emphasised 'Mr. Barth' there a lot and confused me a little with that. By what else would I refer to him?

"Uh, yeah? I guess that was my impression on the guy. Can't tell you why though, as I've only met him twice. It's just a feeling, you know." That reminded me of something else.

"So, let's assume that Claire wasn't really engaged, why would he tell that to the police?"

"I have no idea," Edward said, closing the folder, shoving it aside.

"Maybe it's different than we think it is. Maybe Claire was part of this and not only a victim? I really have no idea. What else did the police tell you on the phone earlier?"

"Nothing much. Jacob basically wanted to warn me. He told me to stay away from you and asked me to tell him, if anything unusual happens. Oh yeah, and they're going to arrest you as soon as they find you." He had a right to know, hadn't he?

"Shit. But I figured that much. They harassed my mother this morning as well."

His constant worry about his mother was rather cute, now that I knew she wasn't his fiancée.

"I'm sorry Edward. Maybe I freaked a little over the picture earlier. I feel like this is all my fault. Jacob takes this case kind of personal. He's friends with my Dad and wants to make everything super-right. I guess I should call him and tell him that we're fine. That I talked to you and you didn't kill me and have no intention to do so."

"No, please Bella. What if he won't believe you? I don't want to be arrested. Have you ever heard of those stories, where they keep people in prison and after years they find out the person is innocent? I really don't want this. I'm sorry you had to lie for me there, but please, at least give me a head start. I need to find out what's going on." He pleaded with me and who was I to deny him anything when he asked me with those green eyes staring at me?

"I wasn't going to tell anyone that you're here."

He nodded relieved and took another sip of his tea.

All too soon he put his empty cup down.

"Thanks, Bella. But I have to go now." He didn't wait for any response and walked back to the living room, picking up his jacket. I trailed behind him and stood in the hallway. I was out of arguments to keep him in my apartment any longer.

He joined me in the corridor and before I noticed, he pressed something from his hand into mine. Though he was barely grazing my fingers, my hand instantly tingled.

"One last thing. Track five. You'll beg me to forget that you ever said it's plain and boring."

I looked down at my hand. His iPod.

He was giving me his iPod? When I looked back up, his hand was already on the door handle.

"Hey, what --," I grabbed him by his arm, "Wait! Keep it."

Basically I clung to his arm, as he let go of the handle and turned towards me again. I put my free hand up to get the small white thing back to him. He didn't make any effort to get it though. I couldn't think of anything else than to shove the damn thing against his chest, pushing, hoping he would react.

And he did, just not as I expected him to.

Chapter End Notes:

Sorry for the short chapter, but it was just too tempting to end it there.

Thanks a lot for reading.