Come Undone (feat. Kazu Makino) – Trentemøller

biology class slips by like water between my fingers, a milky haze of anxiety and longing. it was all beginning to feel so very hopeless, spinning so very out of control. i long to be away from edward, to return to the predictable familiarity that i was accustomed to before him, and i long to be closer to him than anyone has ever dared. it troubles me as i attempt to focus on the lab mr. banner has handed out, and i manage to distract myself from my pitiful desires only through fretting over seeing my parents this afternoon. while the talk of chromatography hangs dully in the classroom air, i oscillate between pondering what verbal abuse i'll have to endure later and what edward's lips would feel like against mine….

when the dismissal bell rings, i'm struck by more conflicting emotions; relief and terror, anticipation and the desire to grow gills and live at the bottom of the forks high pool. i gather my books and hurry through the door, only to be curtailed by lauren and a dark haired girl i don't recognize. part of me considers sidestepping this ambush, as it's the last thing i need, but i decide against it. if not now, when? if lauren wants to vent her frustration with edward through me, i could certainly vent my frustrations through her and whatever friends she wanted to bring along.

"what?" i bark, waiting expectantly. lauren rolls her eyes.

"i come in peace, isabella. nice skirt." something tells me she's making a snide remark about my sudden change in wardrobe rather than handing me a neatly wrapped compliment.

"let's get this over with. spit it out." i begin walking to my locker, ignoring the cascades of contempt pouring over me from her eyes. she and her friend follow behind me and lean against the adjacent lockers while i put my books away. the crowd around us is buzzing with laughter and conversation but i'm still acutely aware of a few lingering eyes, a few people idling beside us for longer than usual.

"you may think you know what you're getting into, but you don't. that…" she seems to struggle for an adequate adjective before running through her hair. "that man—"

"if you can even call him that." the dark haired girl blurts, her nose wrinkled like she's smelled something rancid.

"—is seriously fucked in the head. what are you doing getting involved with him?" in spite of agreeing with her, i grow defensive. i slam my locker closed and press my back against it.

"since when does who i hang out with have to do with you? this is the most we've spoken all year."

"since, oh i don't know, yesterday? or the day before that? when exactly did you start fucking edward?" she raises her voice loud enough so that a few people stop to stare, dangerously intrigued.

"calm down, i'm not sleeping with him. no one is trying to break your record." i try and remain confident and firm, though my discomfort with the topic is coloring my face. her eyes widen in shock before narrowing in disbelief.

"you're lying." she accuses, hands on her hips.

"why does that matter? aren't you here to warn me? to ward me off?" i'd feel disingenuous telling her that i'm not attracted to edward so instead i say "you can save your breath. you're not telling me anything i don't already know." an honest declaration and one of the very few i possess, given my immensely muddled feelings.

"then let me tell you this," the dark haired girl says, stepping forward with a manicured finger pointing at me. "you're not fucking special. he's going to follow you around like a puppy dog, hanging off your every word and acting like the sun shines out of the crack of your ass. but as soon as he gets what he wants, he'll do worse than ignore you. he'll humiliate you." she draws her finger back and points it at lauren but her eyes stay glued to mine. "you saw the way he treated her." i look at lauren now, really look at her, ignoring the concealment of her makeup and the cold nastiness her ice blue eyes always seem to sustain. she looks tired and just a little more frigid than usual. like her defenses are up. she looks heartbroken.

"bella?" i turn to alice's voice and spot her walking briskly towards us. i hadn't noticed the clearing of the hallways. almost everyone has spilled out of the school and into the parking lot. she reaches me quickly but her expression turns hard when she lays eyes on lauren and her friend. "mallory. veronica."

"alice." the two say in unison, their voices equally acerbic.

"what are you two up to? flying around on broomsticks, frightening all the boys and girls?" she assesses me. "were they bothering you?"

"naturally," i reply, "but i don't see how they can help that." the girl named veronica crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at alice like she's her nemesis.

"why don't you put your brother on a leash? you're not even going to try and stop him from messing around with your friend?" she makes that face again, like she's smelled something. alice, small as she is, gets right up in her face, her head tilted up as she gives her a withering look. it would be almost comical if the atmosphere wasn't so tense.

"the day i buy a collar for edward is the day your mother gives you the rabies vaccine. stop acting like you give a shit. you were up next on the totem pole and you're just pissed off because you missed your turn. i'm not his keeper and she's completely capable of taking care of herself." alice takes my hand and starts walking down the hall, pulling me along. "they're waiting outside."

i find out that by "they" she not only means carlisle and edward, but rosalie as well. the silver volvo is blocked into its parking space by the cherry red convertible i'd only glimpsed on my way down the driveway this morning. she's sitting in the driver's seat fiddling with strands of her hair in the rear view mirror. "she picked up dad from work this afternoon." alice explains as we approach them. carlisle and edward are leaning against the volvo, engaged in what appears to be an intense conversation. they grow quiet with the decrease in distance between us, making me highly suspicious. i give edward a meaningful look, though he and carlisle only smile at me in return.

"are you ready to go bella?" carlisle asks. his tone is light and his eyes hold mine like he's trying to lift my mood.

"is my dismay that obvious?" i reply, frowning. he chuckles but doesn't answer, choosing instead to open the backdoor of edward's car. i toss my backpack inside and get in before rolling down the window.

"alice," says edward. "you're going to go home with rosalie."

"what? but why can't i go with you and dad?" she asks, pouting. carlisle shakes his head with a firm expression on his impressive face. i can see alice is attempting to fight a lost battle.

"we'll see you at home." he replies gently, but his eyes tell her not to challenge him. with a huge huff she climbs into the passenger's seat of rosalie's red car. rosalie drives off without a word.

i expect carlisle to drive the volvo but edward does, and perhaps he doesn't like anyone else to handle his vehicle. he turns on the radio as we go down the winding road and carlisle fiddles with an ugly black pager before turning to look at me in the backseat. "edward mentioned you feeling a little anxious about seeing your parents again."

"did he now?" i scoff, and i catch him grinning in the rearview mirror. "well, edward is very perceptive mr. cullen."

"please bella, carlisle. i'm sure we're past the pleasantries now." i blush, looking at my hands. "i do have a question for you, however. would you like to take your truck with us after we collect your things?"

"unless you're talking about driving it to the dump so it can be put out of its misery, i think we should leave it in the driveway." i scowl at him through the mirror though i choose to say nothing. at least, not in carlisle's presence. but he has posed a good question. did i want to bring my truck with me back to the cullen home? would charlie even allow it?

"if my father permits it and if it isn't too much trouble, then yes." i decide. i didn't want to have to rely on edward for rides, and i certainly didn't want to leave anything up to rosalie in the event of edward's absence. "i wouldn't expect him to be okay with it though." i add. carlisle nods in understanding, watching me.

"does your father have any firearms within the home?" he says the question deliberately and cautiously, as though the words themselves are lethal. i rack my brains.

"he keeps a small pistol in the drawer nearby his dresser, but that thing is probably collecting dust. he keeps it in case of intruders."

"do you think we'd be considered intruders right now?" edward asks dryly. i want to tell him to shut the fuck up because i'm quietly unhinging at the implications of that question but thankfully carlisle gives him a frosty glare. he then turns to me and, surprisingly, places his hand on top of mine. it's warm and dry and very large. instead of making me feel uncomfortable, i feel pacified, if only a little. i look at him gratefully and he gives me a reassuring smile but i know my hands are clammy and my eyes are watery. the air from the window washes across my face like a cool salve but i feel like i'm drowning where i sit. i didn't know i was this afraid. carlisle turns away from me to look at his pager but his hand is sturdy around mine. i look studiously at edward's headrest for the remainder of the drive, ignoring the periodic peeks from the volvo's driver.

the police cruiser is parked behind my truck when we arrive, so edward parks on the street and jumps out of the car to open the door for me. he whispers a quick apology and i brush my fingers against his to let him know he's forgiven. we wait while we watch carlisle survey the home. seemingly satisfied with his quick inspection, he begins to walk across the lawn and up the stairs. we follow behind him like baby ducks. the house is eerily quiet; no yelling or plate smashing. i look at the sky, at the thick, grey clouds ballooning across the milky expanse above and remember the lonely rainstorms of my youth. carlisle raps his knuckles against the door. a breeze blows by. a soft cascade of thunder rolls over us like a grumbling stomach.

the front door opens.

it's my mother, in all her disheveled glory, wrapping herself up in a wool cardigan. she first looks at carlisle with thinly veiled surprise, but that quickly transforms into contempt.

"what do you want dr. cullen?" she seethes. "i've had to listen to him complain all night and day about bella running off and he's just fallen asleep."

"i'm sorry to disturb you, mrs. swan, but can we come in?" she rolls her eyes and gestures for us to enter, holding the door open. i'm almost afraid to pass by her, the way she looks at me with such disgust. i shut the door behind me before entering the living room, where my father is asleep on the couch.

"wake up." renée says abruptly, nudging charlie in the side. edward and carlisle stand side by side in the doorway, obviously waiting to be invited to sit down. i observe them, so out of place in my mannerless home, with a sort of appreciation for life's irony. the cullens, wealthy and polite and currently at the mercy of my brutish parents. then i motion for them to occupy the two armchairs, which they do silently. renée leans against the wall, watching me. "so where were you?" she asks while charlie sits up, creaking like an old clock.

"with the cullens." i reply quietly, looking to carlisle.

"bella spent the night at our house, in our guest room. my children were quite distressed by what they described to be plates breaking?" charlie sits up and ruffles his thinning hair, grimacing.

"why can't i get any peace around this place…" he growls to himself. he picks his head up from his hands and registers carlisle's presence by pointing a stubby, calloused finger at him. "what right do you have to take my daughter away from her home without parental permission? answer me that, dr. cullen."

"no right, chief swan." carlisle replies, his voice even, his hands resting on his thighs. "but i did no such thing. my children asked bella to return home with them and she agreed, which i'm told you were present for." more incomprehensible grumbling. i squirm as charlie shifts his angry glare to me, hard eyes and a wiry mustache cloaking a mouth pressed into a thin line.

"i bust my ass at the station and you repay me by running away?"

"i was gone for one night. and i'm sure you're aware it isn't illegal to run away."

"well," renée interjects, "thank you for returning bella to us. we'd like to deal with this matter privately, so if you wouldn't mind…"

"ah," carlisle sighs, folding his hands. "but i do mind. it has come to my attention that the events of yesterday afternoon are not rare in occurrence." his blue eyes harden into precious gems and he releases the full force of his enigmatic gaze onto charlie. "your daughter is no longer comfortable with returning here."

"what part of 'private matter' was difficult for you to understand, cullen?" charlie is speaking through his teeth now, losing his patience and the stupor of his sleep.

"and because she's no longer comfortable with living here sir," edward continues for his father, his demeanor equally as tranquil, "we've come to gather some of her belongings for an extended stay."

"a what?" charlie barks and i flinch, because on an ordinary day i would've been upstairs by now, running the hot water for my bath, drowning him out with water rushing from the faucet.

"i'm not coming back for a while." i declare, looking at my mother. she's in a state of shock, i can tell. her arms are folded over her chest and her face reddens as she processes my words. i feel sorry for her.

"you are only seventeen years old." she says quietly, more to herself than to me.

"i think now would be the best time to extend an olive branch, mrs. swan. i'm willing—"

"to hell with your olive branch, carlisle! my daughter is going up to her bedroom!" charlie rises to his feet and edward quickly matches him.

"no i'm not." i say, but my voice is thick and everything is threatening to foam over now, it's all dangerously close to leaking through my eyes. "i'm going with carlisle." a brief glance at the window shows me the thick waves of rain sliding down the pane. thunder claps off in the distance like a confirmation.

"you'll do as i fucking say!"

"don't talk to her like that!" renée shrieks, "maybe if you were home more often she wouldn't be getting these fucking ideas in her head!" edward and carlisle exchange looks but carlisle remains seated, his expression unreadable.

"right, because this is my fault right? all your years of undermining me in front of her have finally paid off! she's just fucking like you!" abruptly, charlie slams his fist against the nearby wall. i flinch and recoil away from the sound, away from the bits of drywall and plaster falling onto the carpet.

"this is what you want for her renée?" carlisle asks, his tone almost accusatory. she looks at him and appears to get captured by his gaze, her brown eyes wide. "you'd really prefer for her to be here, listening to this, day in and out?"

"let me tell you something," my father says. "this morning we received a phone call from school. she missed two periods of class today and a whole school day earlier this week. things may not be peachy keen in my household, but ever since she's started hanging around your kids, she's been going missing from class." both carlisle and charlie glare at edward now, whose expression turns sheepish.

"it isn't as though you don't know where i live," carlisle asserts. "you're welcome to come to our home and see where she'll be sleeping. and, if she's willing, you'd be able to call or visit." my mother moves to sit on the couch, her eyes unfocused. her hands grab the hem of charlie's shirt and pull him down beside her. "you can't really want her to continue to endure this." he says, mostly to renée.

"ultimately, this isn't any of your business." charlie says flippantly.

"it's either my business or that of child welfare services." carlisle stands, his demeanor triumphant. he lazily pulls his pager from his pocket and presses a few buttons. my father looks thoroughly scolded. his ears are red as beets. "please, i need to know now whether or not that kind of phone call will be necessary."

"bella," renée says, looking up at me. i'm startled by the gentleness in her voice. "go upstairs and gather your things. there are some old tote bags in the cupboard beneath the stairs."

"renée—" charlie starts but she doesn't give him a chance.

"so help me, if you don't be quiet i'll be packing my shit too." edward meets my eyes and i jerk my head in the direction of the stairs. we make a break for it, glad to be away from the theatrics even if only for a moment.

in attempting to recall every important thing i've ever owned, i forget to be self conscious about my dull-as-dishwater bedroom. we pack quickly and silently, with edward pausing occasionally to examine or observe something. he mocks none of my possessions, asking only if they're vital enough to be placed in one of the tote bags. we finish quickly; i don't have many mementos. he carries the bags down the stairs and through the front door but i stay for a while and watch the rain through the window, comparing my childhood memories to this one now.

when i return to the front door, carlisle is standing next to renée, ill at ease but cordial. there are tears streaming down her face. a part of me wants to comfort her, to promise that everything will be fine, but i don't know anything. nothing at all. everything ahead of us is murky, fog and ink and all of the things that blur our vision of the future. the other part of me is too angry to mollify her in any capacity. i say a quick goodbye and look to carlisle to procure our hasty exit.

"bella." my father steps out of the living room with an abashed expression.

"don't try and stop me." i warn, steeling myself for his booming voice.

"no, i—" he won't look me in the eye. "i want you to know that your mother and i will find a way to make this right." i'm stunned into an awkward silence, reeling from the idea that he would even admit anything is wrong. it's a huge leap forward, and so quickly.

"o-okay," i stammer, shaky on my feet. i walk through the door and into the volvo in a daze of my own. i think of my mother and father as two people separate from their identities as my parents, and hold onto that concept the entire drive home.

i'm grateful that carlisle and edward opt not to speak to me until we pull into the long driveway of their beautiful property. it is when edward pulls the keys from the ignition that carlisle turns around to survey me. i wonder what expression is sitting on my face but he doesn't seem alarmed.

"how are you holding up?" he asks quietly. "i know things must have gotten overwhelming for you at some point."

"i'm tougher than i look, carlisle." i reply, offering him a small smile. he looks visibly relieved.

"i'm sorry i couldn't get your truck but i was afraid that if i mentioned it he'd torch it out of spite." the slight twinkle in his eyes lets me know he's made a joke and that i'm free to laugh. and i do. "let's get you inside, the rain is coming down pretty heavy."

the cullen women are lounging in the living room when we enter and though esme welcomes me with a hug and a kiss and a "you must be hungry", she doesn't ask about what transpired at my old residence. neither does alice (though i suspect that she might again come knocking late at night for information). rosalie makes no attempt at conversation, but she doesn't withdraw from my presence either, which i interpret as significant progress. i hover for a brief moment before retiring to my room to put away my belongings.

while organizing my things i think about many things. i think about what might have made my parents brusque, immalleable people and whether or not it's possible for them to become soft again. i think about the hardness in all of our hearts and the events that place them there; alice, edward, rosalie, even lauren. i think about the sensitivities we all possess, how in some way or another we all walk this earth with our hands over our weak spots, begging not to be hurt. i wonder what callouses esme and carlisle hide away… from everyone, even their children and i wonder whether or not they show them to each other during their more intimate moments, when we're all asleep and all the pretenses have fallen away. and then i think about edward. again. and again. i think about him until my thoughts become circular and maddening and i find myself knocking on his bedroom door late at night, after everyone else has gone to bed, certain he's awake.

"yeah." he answers, but he clears his throat when he looks up to see me standing in the doorway. "come in." i shut the door behind me and sit beside him. his auburn hair is dark with water, dangling in front of his forehead and sticking out in all directions. he smells clean and like the forest and i wonder for a moment how that can be. then i watch him close that tiny black leather notebook and set it on the table. "do you want to talk about what happened today?"

"in a way. i spoke to lauren today."

"ah. alice mentioned it while you were in your room. there's no need to feel threatened by her, she'll get over herself soon enough."

"i don't." i say, rolling my eyes. as if i'd honestly stand in the hallway and bare my insecurities to fight over a man. "she wasn't even threatening me. she was trying to warn me."

"warn you?" his emerald eyes glitter with amusement. he leans forward, grinning impishly. "are you in danger?" i inhale.

"she told me to stay away from you. i should be taking her advice."

"and yet, here you are." he laces his cool fingers with mine but i slip my hand away from him and set it on my lap.

"i'm here because i've realized that you've never admitted to any wrongdoing." he draws back a little, his eyebrows raised.

"wrongdoing?"

"this trail of broken hearts that i've been following edward. the evidence is pretty damning." he sighs and looks away from me, looks through the curtainless window, out into the forest. "do you think you've done something wrong? or do you think those girls had it coming and should've better guarded their hearts… and underwear." edward doesn't say anything for a very long time. i search his face, map every inch of his chiseled jaw, watching it clench and unclench with the passing time. then the both of us end up looking through the window; the rustling trees and the sound of their swaying fills our heads and our ears. did i expect him to say anything? i suppose not. but sitting in my bedroom and imagining what he might say was proving to be fruitless and aggravating.

"what would you like for me to say, bella?"

"nothing that you wouldn't ordinarily say. you see, i'm trying to understand you."

"i've never lied to you." it's my turn to lean in and make him uncomfortable, to place my hand over his and get very close to his face. the shock in his expression is evident, but he doesn't shrink away from my challenge.

"yes you have. your whole appearance, the way you behave is a carefully constructed ruse." he blanches at my accusation but offers no counter. "the edward i would really love to know is hiding somewhere in that black book. and i'd like for you to let me read it."

he pulls his hand away like he's been stung.

"no." my eyebrows raise of their own accord. his entire disposition changes in what seems to be an instant; he's self conscious and awkward but stubborn in his resolve. we stare each other down but with each passing second, i feel his vulnerability slipping away.

"please." i whisper, reaching out and taking his hand again. he looks down at our intertwined fingers, his eyebrows furrowed like deep ridges in his face. he looks up at me through his lashes and i feel him searching my face. i hold his eyes for as long as i can, though i can't understand what's going on behind them. he gets up and walks over to the shelves on the large white wall. i watch the water drip from his hair, my heart fluttering in my chest. it's not difficult to see how so many girls could have fallen for the same man. he's achingly beautiful, even in what i perceive now to be his misery. from the shelf he removes a small black book identical to the one he'd set on the table. he returns to me slowly, like an animal unsure of my kindness. i smile in a way that i hope reassures him. he sits directly in front of me but his eyes are on the book. our eyes. the binding looks soft and worn.

"i started this journal while my mother was in treatment." he says in a voice so low i have to lean even closer to him. he hands it to me. i move to open it but he quickly places his hand on the cover. "please don't pity me."

"you? never, you're the scum of the earth." i wink at him and he laughs, but it's weak and shaky. his draws in a jagged breath and then removes his hand, allowing me to open the book. it falls open where the binding is worn severely and the edges of the pages are frayed and bent. the date is at the top of the page: five years ago in july. edward's twelve year old handwriting is elegant, despite the odd loops and the occasional oversized letter. i feel him holding his breath as i read the words on the sheet:

here

here she is

this mother that somehow isn't mine

her body ruined like a turkey burned on thanksgiving

her kisses like ashes spread across my cheeks

here is my sadness, my loneliness, my worry

here is my crippling terror

here are my sleepless nights

here is the isolation, the way no one can bear to look at the son of a living corpse

here is the hiding in plain sight, here is my painted on smile

here is the sun, which always feels like teeth nowadays

and the stars, which make me ache

here

here it is

here it is all is, laid at your feet

here is me begging you, the god i'm starting not to believe in

to save her, or take care of her

i do not know what i'm asking for anymore

but here

take it all

a fat drop of water falls onto the notebook and i shut it quickly, my breathing harsh. "i'm sorry edward," i breathe, "i'm fine really, i just need a moment—" i don't wait for his response. i get up and leave the room in what i hope seems like a collected manner, clutching the book to my chest as though it's covering a wound. a gaping hole. my feet rush ahead of the rest of my body as i try to reach my bedroom as quickly as i can. the dam has broken. everything is gushing over, bursting out of me like a geyser. i shut the door just in time for the sobs to consume my body.