Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
"It's after five. I have to go." Bella pulls at Edward's sleeve, but he rarely starts a piece of music without finishing; through force of habit he coaxes the keys, near oblivious to Bella's comment. He plays through Bella standing and carefully traversing the maze of instruments and equipment. But he abruptly stops upon hearing her soft grunt of exertion. When he lays eyes on her, he's already worried about her falling as she struggles with the prodigious sliding glass door.
Edward can't help but laugh at her efforts; she has her feet planted by the handle, which she's grasping with gnarled knuckles, and her arms are fully extended as she leans back against them. Silently sweeping into action, Edward catches Bella just as her fingers slip off the handle and she topples like a domino. He acknowledges the fact that he would do depraved and dark deeds in order to hold this fragile child in his arms, but she doesn't seem pleased at his attentions. "Thanks, now let go," Bella huffs and averts her eyes from his confused countenance. After Edward returns her to an upright position, he realizes the threat of her enigmatic mind. The first true mystery of his life.
He's been daydreaming off and on about her arrival for centuries. In all that time, he'd never considered that he be ravenous for her thoughts- quite the opposite, actually. At this moment, though, he'd give almost anything for a few glimpses. "Please tell me what you are thinking." Edward has no hope of keeping the desperation out of his voice.
"I don't think we should see each other again." He goes absolutely still. "At least until I turn eighteen."
"I could care less about the legal ramifications of pursuing you."
"But I do! If we get caught..."
"We won't," Edward interrupts.
"If we get caught while I'm still seventeen it gets really bad. You could go to jail for two years because you're my teacher!"
Edward is grinning now that he knows that her hesitation is out of fear for him. If he wasn't so amused he would realize how good she's made him feel, how relevant. "Well there's definitely some legal grey area there, exacerbated by the fact that I'm your teacher. But the statute that your referring to doesn't actually apply: 'Communicating with a Minor for Immoral Purposes,' I believe. Relax, Bella." After a prophylactic inhalation, he leans close, letting his breath wash over her neck and face. "Those laws only apply if we're having sex."
Edward braces himself for her blush but doesn't see it immediately; he's taken with the moderate whooshing of her lungs and the heady scent of her blood, accented so sweetly by her strawberry shampoo. And she looks thoroughly out of sorts, almost as if she hasn't heard him. Then her blush blooms slowly, dark and enticing. He sees it blossom, rhythmically surging with the hummingbird thrum of her heart. Feeling the fire scald his skin, he cups her face with a hand while tracing her cheek with his thumb and says with certainty, "I've never seen anything so beautiful." Her reaction, however typical, delights him nonetheless. He's even more pleased when he sees her pinch her own thigh, surreptitiously seeing if she's dreaming. Extricating himself is difficult, but she's been adamant about leaving.
She looks at hims suspiciously when he pulls the door open, and he wonders how many inconsistencies and oddities she's noticed about him. Now that they've had some time together he can hardly stop wondering what she's thinking. And though he'd never expected to experience this kind of curiosity, he finds it refreshing, challenging, wonderfully frustrating. He wants to know her mind, but he wouldn't change a thing about her.
His brain ceases all function when he sees Bella jog up the stairs ahead of him. The hitch in her gait is gone as she smoothly and gracefully ascends and all Edward can do is watch the indistinct flex of muscle under her jeans. He's mesmerized by the movement of her hips and it's her turn to offer a smug smile when she reaches the landing and catches his jaw unhinged, practically against his chest.
Edward is disarmed by this brave and lovely young woman. But despite her brilliance and beauty and his growing adoration, Edward feels afraid. Bella has the power to level him with a word, cut him with a glance, destroy him with a gesture. Anxiety, altogether unfamiliar and unwelcome, sits bomb-like on his chest, weighting his world with new and uncomfortable fears.
He's holding the door to her truck while she fumbles for her keys, awkwardness tangible between them, when they make eye contact. Her eyes are his shoreline after centuries adrift, the only lifeline he'll ever need. "See you tomorrow?" Bella asks hopefully.
"Yes, you will," and it's a promise Edward would destroy the world to keep.
Alice and Esme are waiting patiently inside the Cullen's home to interrogate him. Both are ravenous for information, desperate for news of Edward's human. But he's too distracted to enter into that kind of dialogue with those two, a pair that makes the Spanish Inquisition look mild and meek. He ventures into the woods at a leisurely pace only to detect a direct comment in Alice's thoughts: You still haven't decided what you want from her. Make up your mind.
He knows she's right, that he's wandered into this situation with little forethought. But as atypical as that is for him, he's discovering that his former thoughts and patterns of behavior mean little around Bella. Her presence in his life has rendered him reckless, left him lacking, stopped him short in the most excellent and frightening way. Her influence is thorough but benign, and he wonders if she could be fey.Surely she must have something of the supernatural within her to bewitch me so, he thinks.
And there is the other aspect to consider. The rampant desire she incites is something wholly unfamiliar. He appreciates the female form as much as any man, but his interest has always been detached, almost academic. Bella ignites him entirely, and he wants her so poignantly it is almost painful.
He's breezing through the forest with these thoughts in his head, these longings in his heart and body, when he realizes he already knows what he wants from Bella. He'd told her that very afternoon: "Anything. Everything," he'd said. In regards to Bella, his desires will not be satisfied until they know each other in every way, love each other without reservation.
His mind reels with the implications, the journey already fraught with peril for them both. After a moment of racing thoughts and sheer panic, he gives in. Surrender never felt so sublime. His military mind, suffused with the essence of love and hope, could never lead him astray. I am already hers, he thinks, now I must make her mine.
A/N: Another short one, I know, but it seemed complete to me. Hopefully I'll get another update out before then, but I wanted to warn you guys that I will be out of town, sans computer/internet, for some well deserved R&R. Thanks for being awesome. -rhi