Sunrise
Chapter 22: The Scientist
The Scientist—Coldplay.
At first, I couldn't find one freaking song to fit this chapter. Then I found ten, and I just had to choose one. Ironic, no?
Well, the other songs were: For All Time—Soluna. Andddd…. All Around Me—Flyleaf. But the Scientist fit better because it fit in with New Moon, by Stephenie Meyer, of who I am not. If you listen to it, it also definitely reflects Edward.
Who, by the way, has been cast for a while now. I never asked you of what you thought on that particular subject. Lol. Tell if you wish.
WARNING: I got a tad carried away in this chapter. No sex is described, I assure you, but I did get a tad carried away. Sorry if it offends you. : (
OOO
In moments, I was sobbing. Sobbing so hard that I could barely hear the sharp intake of breath from the man next to me. He pulled me closer, alarmed, and I clung to him desperately. I couldn't stop the shaking, the rips down my body, the tears flowing over the brim of my lids and spilling on his chest and to the sheets.
"What is it?" he asked softly, not daring to move an inch from my quivering body. "Cara, what's wrong?"
I couldn't wrap my mind around the concept.
Matt was holding me to him, in his room, in Volterra.
I was having trouble breathing, actually, through my tears. I shuddered, gasping, and this only upset him more. I remembered he hated it when I cried. He couldn't stand it. He outright loathed me plus crying.
"Cara," he whispered, his lips right by my forehead. "Tell me what's wrong… please."
I burrowed my head deeper into his chest, and he drew me even closer, humming softly in my ear. "Y-You don't ha-have to say p-please a-anymore," I choked out, my body still shaking. The words, somehow, made me sad.
"That doesn't tell me what's making you bawl," he murmured, stroking my hair again. His hand trailed to my shoulder, almost tentatively, and he ran his fingers up and down my arm lovingly, as if I were fragile.
Did he honestly not get it? All this pent-up emotion was escaping from me, emotion I'd kept locked away for nearly a year. It was pouring out of me, and I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to stop it. I'd been careful about letting it get by me, but so much had happened. First running away, and Robbie dying, and getting captured, beating up rapists, and being back with him was just icing on the cake. I was so…
So relieved.
"I'm sorry," I gasped out, still clinging to his still form. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" he asked, and I still hadn't dared to look at his face, but I could just picture the bewildered look there.
"I've been so stupid," I cried, clutching his arms mercilessly, the shivers still running down my spine.
He tensed. "Don't say that."
I glared at his chest. It was the only part of him I could see. "I've been so stupid," I repeated stubbornly.
"Stop it, Cara." His tone wasn't dangerous, exactly, as I expected it to be. It was pleading. Begging me to stop contradicting myself.
"I've been really stupid, though," I persisted, weaker now. I didn't want to hurt him, but my point had to be made. "Really. And we both know it."
"Reckless," he revised. "Careless. Pig-headed. Stubborn. Lovely, yes. But never, ever, stupid."
And then his lips were on mine. I wasn't sure how he managed it, but he did. I was suddenly on my back, my warm burrow abandoned, and he was hovering over me, his lips meeting mine with a passionate fervor. His arm was still tight around my waist, clutching me as close to him as possible, while his free hand was rested on my hip, his thumb rubbing circles on my skin.
I felt a sliver of pain as I reverted back to my vampire form, and my human tears were still present on my face. But he kissed them away, crushing his lips to mine again. The touches were less gentle now, and urgency beneath them that left us breathless. I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to me and we kissed again, and again, and again. His hand was sliding up the pressed shirt, now, and this was all too familiar.
I caught his hand, even though I didn't want to, and leaned my head back to get air. "Matt," I whispered, and the name sounded perfect. That was when he started being Matt, and not "he."; when I started believing this was real. "No." I forced the words out, even though it was pain ripping through me to say them. Matt sat back on his heels, breathing hard.
"Sorry," he apologized faintly. "Well, I'm not sorry, but you get the idea."
"It's not that I don't want to," I whispered, reaching up for him. He pulled me into a gentle embrace, forgetting the burning lust for a moment, even though I was positive it was still rushing through him. "Man, I really want to."
"I know," Matt said. "I can feel it."
Oh, yeah. The feeling thing. "We have to talk about things," I told him.
"Talk?"
Most guys lived in the physical world, and Matt was no exception. He would be willing to listen, I know, but now his hormones were raging, and I hadn't helped that. He leaned into my shoulder and breathed deeply.
"Damn," he murmured quietly. "I missed you."
I kissed his neck, and he tensed, but in the good way. "That's what we need to talk about," I whispered, barely voicing the words. He relaxed slowly, muscle by muscle.
"About how much I missed you?"
"No." I clung tighter to him as I began to slip from his lap, and he readjusted me so I was facing him. "About how insensitive I was."
His eyes—gold now, pure gold—blazed dangerously. It was even, I guessed if it were directed at me, more frightening then the red. "Don't—" he started to say, but I shook my head, burying my face in his neck.
"Matt," I said finally, and his chest rumbled silently in contentedness. "I'm so very sorry."
"For getting captured?" he asked incredulously. "That wasn't your fault at all."
"No. For leaving, you twot," I sighed. "I thought they were in trouble."
I felt his neck muscles strain, and he told me, "It was a test. I didn't know until the night you disappeared. That was where I was… a meeting." Something in his voice sounded strange, but when I looked at his face, all it held was concern. "I didn't know what would happen, Cara. I didn't know Lucas was involved. No one did."
Then I realized what the strange sound was. It was the sound someone made when they tried not to cry. My eyes widened at my realization, and I felt a fury-like scowl make its way onto my face. I grabbed his chin, broken expression and all, and dragged it down to me. I made sure he was looking at my eyes, and I said, "Don't you dare beat yourself up over this."
"If I'd killed him—"
"Killed your brother? Look, I know he was screwed up and all, but that would still be hard on you." I didn't mention it had been equally hard on me, knowing I had killed Matt's only family he had left.
"You need to stop worrying about me," he sighed. "You're the one I'm worried about right now, not myself." As he pulled back to touch my face with his palm, his eyes trained themselves lower than my face. Lower, yes, but not at my breasts. No, he was above them, it looked like, and he blinked a few times.
"Cara?" he asked, his voice odd. He didn't raise his eyes, but reached a hand out. Then he thought better of it and refastened it around my waist. "What is this?"
I frowned. "What is what?"
Then I realized he was staring at my neck, and what he was staring at that was on my neck. I felt my chest clench, and I adverted my eyes. "It's nothing—"
"Cara." The word stopped me, and I raised my eyes to Matt's. He was looking at me with this intensity, this hurt look on his face. "Don't lie to me."
I felt myself reverting back to human form, and I desperately tried to fight it. I felt the tears burn behind my eyes, and I screwed them shut. Matt grasped me tighter, leaning down to kiss the scar tenderly. I shivered with desire, but forced it off. We still needed to talk.
He us back down, draping me over him. I lifted my face to gauge his, but it was still full of concern. He traced the scar mindlessly, his thumb spreading across it coolly. "What happened? I saw it on you when I was watching you sleep, but I thought it would go away when you phased."
"It can't," I stated flatly.
"Why not?"
"It has his venom in it," I continued in my lifeless tone. "It won't go away. Fade? Maybe. But it won't go away."
"I don't… follow."
Of course he didn't. Even though he served as a guard to the most powerful coven in the world, Matt wasn't very educated in Vampirism 101. "Venom leaves a mark on its own kind," I confided gravely. He tensed.
"He bit you?"
I shook my head slowly, exhaustion crashing onto me as I remembered. "No. He had a knife. And I wasn't on my guard when I was fighting him, so he cut me, and then he told me that the blade was coated in venom, and it would stay with me. Forever."
I wasn't looking at him anymore, but I heard him. Matt was cussing lividly, but faintly. I thought I caught the words: "damn knives," but I couldn't be sure.
"I'm sorry."
He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face while the other traced patterns on the small of my back. "Not this again. Why?"
"I feel like I haven't covered everything," I explained, my tone hushed. "I'm sorry about being a bitch to you—"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Bitch, as in, a female dog."
He didn't laugh. "Funny."
"I'm just saying I'm sorry I wasn't more sympathetic when I was here. You were really good to me, and I'm sorry that I didn't appreciate that. I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye." I took a deep, shuddering breath before I continued. "I'm sorry that you came to look for me and I wasn't there. I'm sorry that I worried you. I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner. But mostly, I'm sorry I didn't tell you something very important, something I didn't realize until after I was already gone."
Matt stroked my hair, and if I hadn't known better, I'd say his fingers were shaking. But it wasn't him. It was me.
"Matt…" Another deep breath. "I love you."
The fingers stopped. Froze. As in, defying laws of gravity kind of froze. He didn't move for a solid minute. He didn't even breathe. I felt like I was lying against a rock as the second slowly ticked by. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I pressed closer to him, afraid he'd let me go. And then his chest descended as he let out a huge gust of air.
"Say it again," he demanded in a whisper, sounding almost breathless.
The heat in my face disappeared. He hadn't been mad or scared. Maybe a little shocked, even surprised, but he hadn't been still and silent because he was angry. The words had sent countless pleasure through him, and he couldn't move because of it.
I pulled myself up to his face and kissed him full on the mouth. "I love you," I murmured, kissing him again. Softly, dotingly. His lips parted under mine, and his hands moved up to my hips, pressing them to his. He was conveying a very specific message, and I gasped into his mouth, knowing just how much I missed the skin-on-skin contact between us.
I pressed myself tighter to him, ripping my lips away from his for a few precious seconds. He growled futilely, but when I whispered, "I love you," again, he was content. His hands trailed up, brushing my breasts, and I hissed into his mouth. He chuckled, the vibrations sending sparks through my body, and rolled until he was atop of me.
I felt every line of him against me, every muscle pushing me deeper into the fluffy mattress. I ran my hands up to his neck and massaged the muscles, and he groaned, kissing me harder. I squirmed beneath him, gasping for air I didn't need.
"I love you more," he murmured, nearly incoherently, but it was there all the same. And it filled me to the brim with satisfaction. It was nice to hear it aloud.
But defiance flickered in me, and Matt saw it. His expression melted into confusion, and I whispered, as to not ruin the mood we'd set up, "Prove it."
He laughed gently, and snaked his hand across my collarbone. I shivered helplessly, and he grinned. He knew all he had to do was kiss me again, and I'd be won over. But he didn't intend on stopping there. He intended to drag this out to emphasize his point.
He trailed his hand lower, and I growled fierily into his shoulder. I felt like my entire being was about to snap. He kissed my neck, nipping delicately, and I shuddered again. When my whole being ached I cried out, "Alright, already. I get it. You love me more. Stop!"
He laughed again, his hands finally still, and I let my head fall back onto the mattress, breathing heavily. "You scared me for a moment there."
"I what?" he asked, fixing me with a penetrating stare. There was something wrong with the way he said the words.
"You scared me," I repeated, still gasping. "When I said I loved you, and you didn't even move."
He blinked. Once, twice, three times. "You thought I would reject you." It wasn't a question.
"You didn't move," I maintained, weaker now, still not looking at him. "Like, at all."
"I was shocked." He didn't sound amused at all. More worried—I didn't get it. "You really think I would turn you away for telling me what I've been wanting to hear for nearly two years?"
Oh. That's why he was worried. He thought I had no faith in him. "No. I didn't know you wanted to hear it."
He was silent, and I wondered if I should have not brought it up. "You thought I didn't love you." Also not a question.
"Not exactly—" I tried to say, but suddenly his face was above mine, the lightheartedness gone, and intensity in its place.
"You thought I hated you for leaving."
It was all I could do to stare up into his liquid gold eyes and mumble an unmistakable "Yes."
Instead of walking away, or slamming doors, as he might have done in the past, he leaned his head down to mine in a slow, warm, adoring kiss. His hands moved to caress my face, and suddenly it was his turn to declare, "I love you," over and over again. Twelve times he murmured it into my waiting ear, and my chest, while feeling as whole as it had in ages, began to shake in relieved sobs.
He quieted them, distracting me by whispering my name dotingly again and again, followed by an occasional "I love you." He kissed the scar again and again, and tugged on the hem of his shirt, which was on me.
"You wearing this isn't helping," he whispered, hesitant, voice like velvet.
I let him pull it over my head.
OOO
We stopped at ten.
Actually, I hadn't been content with stopping, but for some reason, he'd rolled over on the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. And boxers, of course. I frowned, squinting at him in the moonlight. I growled at his back, and he turned, appraising me with a ghostly smile.
"No words, my beloved," he whispered, placing a kiss on my lips, retaining the hushed atmosphere. "Get dressed."
"Dressed? Why—" Another kiss, slow and long, swallowing my words. I pulled away with a pout, and he grinned softly at me.
"Let's say… it's a surprise."
I pouted again as he lifted himself off the bed for a second time, pulling on his boxers and jeans. My warmth—or what little there had been—was gone along with him. He turned again as he shrugged on his shirt, and took in my appearance with a growing smile. "God," he said, "you look like you've been through one of those hurricanes." The statement seemed to make him proud.
"Well, gee, that's such a seductive thing to say to your lover after she's been gone for a year."
"But I love it. And I love you. So it's a beautiful combination."
I raised my brows. "Right."
"Are you going to put some clothes on?"
"Can't I just take yours off?"
"No." The corners of his mouth twitched. "I'm afraid not. We have to be somewhere soon."
I fell back onto the bed, not willing to leave my haven. "Where could you possibly have to be? You had no idea I was coming this morning."
"True," he allowed. "Does that matter?"
I pulled a pillow over my head. "You thought of this while you were making love to me." Not a question.
"You expect me to help myself?" he murmured, drawing the pillow down from my face. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips and added, "I'm serious. Get dressed. If you don't, I'll do it for you."
I groaned. "Fine."
"Damn. I was looking forward to that."
I glared at him as I got out of bed. His eyes followed me until I was at the closet. "Perv," I teased with a smile. He grinned, pretending to peek behind shielded eyes.
"I still want to know where we're going," I told Matt minutes later as he led me down the hall. He glanced back at me, grabbed my wrist, and opened a door.
And then we were outside, racing side by side, hand in hand. Our laughter was carried away by the wind in wisps, filling our beings. Two helpless souls (yes, souls) in love was what we were, and neither of us had any problem with it. He lifted me onto his shoulder, spinning us around until the trees, the wall, the lake, and the castle all became a blur.
I wooed into the wind, as loud as spiritual as a wolf, and Matt, laughing, followed suit. I found it ironic, later, that we were vampires making the calls of our enemies. But, then again, I couldn't have a care in the world just then.
I didn't care that we were in Italy, and I was probably going to fall back into slavery. I didn't care that we were probably being watched right at that moment. And I didn't care about the fact that we were probably going to face tomorrow with grim faces.
I just cared about tonight.
"Run with me," I whispered into Matt's ears as the spin came to and end, and he lifted his head.
"Already done."
And we were flying again, me placed precisely on his shoulders. I lifted my arms to the wind, and everything came into focus, sharp in the rushing air.
"Can you see the sky?" Matt asked as we stopped. I looked up, into the black blanket of shimmering stars. I nodded against his hair. "Watch closely."
The stars continued to twinkle, as if congratulating me on my choice. I smiled, and blinked quickly. As I opened my eyes, fire ripped through the sky, blackening out the stars, showing my lover and myself in a red-gold light. And then a white inferno erupted after it, followed by a sparkling green. The colors of Italia.
My eyes grew wide as they continued, and I gasped. "Fireworks."
"You like?"
"I love."
I could see his grin as another wave of fireworks lit the sky. "Good."
"I haven't seen this many fireworks since I was a child," I recalled two hours later, at midnight, laying down in the clearing and watching the sky dance. Matt leaned closer to me, grabbing my chin with his free hand.
Another shower of light cascaded over us, and his golden eyes shined as he declared, "Then Happy New Year, Cara."
And we kissed.
THE END
OOO
I really, really, really enjoyed writing this.
I'd thought I would continue, but I have waaaayyyyy too much going on.. I'm sorry, because there used to be an assurance up here to say I was writing one. I'm not. I'm trying to get started myself.
Thank you for all who reviewed, added to alerts, and favorited this story. It means a lot to me.
Always,
Jamie.