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SM owns the Twilight Characters, I just make them homeless
WARNING!
This story contains subject matter which may be offensive to some readers. I will try to post a warning before each chapter if I feel there is a need, but the story in general deals with mature themes.
Now I remember all to well
just how it feels to be all alone
You feel like you'd give anything
for just a little place you can call your own
Thats when you need someone, someone that you can call
and when all your faith is gone
feels like you cant go on
let it be me
let it be me
if its a friend you need
let it be me
-Ray LaMontagne
EPOV
"Alright, later," I say, walking out the door. It's still light out when I leave work. I have the next two days off and want to take Bella somewhere. I've been working my ass off and haven't spent any money, except on basic necessities. I don't know what she likes, but I've heard that Portland has an awesome zoo. I was thinking about surprising her and taking her there. I have no idea what her childhood was like but assume that everyone has good memories of a zoo. Walking out of the condo parking lot, I scan the roads for Jake.
It's been two weeks since Jake's major freak out, and two weeks since we've seen him again. I heard, from asking around, that he landed himself in a cell that night he left our room, assaulting some poor guy who was out walking his dog and crossed Sam's path. I've asked around and tried to find him but have had no luck. People say they've seen him under the bridges or at the Mission, but I can't find him. He usually doesn't remember exactly what Sam did, but waking up in a jail cell lets him know that it was nothing good. He's always been a good friend to me, and I don't want to turn my back on him just because whatever disorder he has has gotten worse. I really want to find a way to get him help.
Bella recovered from what happened with Jake that night fairly well. She was somewhat traumatized, and it took her two days to become her normal self again - well, as normal as she gets. After the incident with Jake, I thought she was getting better, but she's recently retreated back within herself. When I asked her about the change in her behavior, she told me that she was scared. She said that it was just a matter of time before whomever she was running from found her. She was talking nonsense about leaving me and going on her own. She insisted I would get hurt if I was with her when she was found. To say I was pissed off at her declarations, was an understatement.
She still wouldn't give me any details, but I had convinced her by the end of the night that it didn't matter who was after her; I would never let anything happen to her. It took a while to get her to understand that I wasn't in danger and that I would keep her safe. To be honest, I had no idea what kind of danger we were in or what she was running from, but I would do anything to keep her safe.
My job has been going great. Mike's been giving me all the hours I want. I've been working a ton of overtime, and I currently have a bigger savings than I've ever had in my life. I keep encouraging Bella to buy herself something or go do her nails or some other girly shit, but she just keeps saying that she's fine, that she has everything she needs.
It has become near impossible to be around her without almost jumping her. She's so incredibly sexy without even knowing it. After our semi-kiss before, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to do more with her. It goes beyond that though. Bella is the first girl I've ever had emotional feelings for, and because of that, I haven't pushed the physical. It's getting harder each day though. Little brushes of our hands, long days alone together, sharing a bathroom which leads to catching glimpses of her in a towel. When she has nightmares in her sleep and clings to me, her body molds to mine like it was made just for me. It's become a common thing for me to be constantly hiding my hard ons that I get from just being around her.
Thinking about her as I walk home from work is making me anxious to get there; home, well the motel, but I'm happy to call it home. I'm proud that my hard work is keeping us in a dry, warm place with food every night. I walk up the stairs and put my key into the door and walk in. Bella is at the counter mixing something together that looks like a salad.
"Hey, how was work?" she asks.
"Good, thanks," I say, with a smile as I take my shoes off. It's a weird thing to come home to a woman that makes you dinner most nights, goes to bed and wakes up with you, has breakfast with you and then sends you off to work. This girl isn't my wife, hell, she isn't even my girlfriend. It scares me that I want her to be.
We are just two fucked up people trying to make it. While trying to make it, we've found each other, and there has to be a reason for that. I've been alone for so long and then this broken girl comes in and makes me want things I've never wanted before. She makes me want her to be there when I come home, to not want to have dinner alone, to cuddle. I have never wanted to fucking cuddle in my whole life until she came along.
"You hungry?" she asks, just barely turning her head, her attention still on whatever she is mixing up.
"Starving," I say.
"Sit down; this should be ready in just a minute. I got the recipe from Miss Elizabeth."
Red flags go up for me. Miss E has cooked for me a few times and it's usually great, but when she has brought in a new recipe in the past, it's been known to be disastrous. I sit and we talk. As I watch her finish dinner, I realize how much she has changed from when we first met. She wouldn't even speak, and now we sit and have full conversations. I try my hardest to make her laugh and smile every day, and most days she does. As she finishes the dinner she's making, I watch how she moves. She has the most beautiful body I have ever seen, the perfect proportions, and since she has gained a little weight, I can see her curves, and I love them. She walks over with a smile, and I smile back. She sets a plate in front of me; it's some sort of fancy... salad?
"This looks good," I say not sure if I believe the words coming out of my own mouth. I think it's supposed to be a salad, a chicken one of some sorts, but it just doesn't look right.
"She said it's something new; I thought I'd try it," she says, a blush creeping up her cheeks. I make up my mind to take a bite before deciding I don't like it, because I've loved everything else Bella has cooked. She's an awesome cook and has kept me full so far. I take a bite and know instantly there's a first for everything, because this shit is terrible. I hold it in my mouth, not sure what to do. I don't want her to know how horrible I think it is. Finally, I swallow it like a man. When I look up at her, she's trying not to laugh.
"This," I say, waving my hand around the god-awful food, "is great!" I hope that I sound convincing.
"Liar!" She shouts, laughing and throwing a napkin at me. I break out laughing with her because really, the shit is awful. She tries a bit of her own, only to spit it out on the plate. We both start laughing so hard at the ridiculousness of the situation. She picks up a piece of lettuce from the salad and throws it at me. It hits me in right in the forehead and sticks there, causing her to laugh even louder.
Playfully, I spring across the table, she jumps up and runs from me. I freeze, scolding myself for how stupid it was to chase her like that. I should have known it would scare her badly. I turn to apologize and before I can open my mouth, I get another piece of lettuce right in the face. I pause, shocked; she has never been this playful before and I love this side of her. She stares at me, biting her lip, trying to hold back a laugh.
"Proud of yourself?" I ask in mock seriousness, the lettuce still sticking to my chin. She can't hold it back as wild giggle burst from her. She bends over clutching her stomach. I've never seen her so carefree and happy, and I would do anything to keep her this way.
"I'm... so... so sorr-" She can't get the words out, she's laughing too hard. I stand there with an amused look on my face, waiting for her to finish. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head a little. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and she looks so fucking cute.
"OK. I'm ok now," she says, still giggling. Taking another deep breath, she continues in a mock serious tone.
"Edward, I'm sorry for hitting you in the face with that rancid salad that I made." We stand and stare at each other for a second, and then I lunge at her and start to tickle her.
"You're gonna be!" I shout as continue my tickle torture on her. She's screaming playfully and thrashing around. I listen close for her sounds of playfulness to turn to fear; I want to stop before it gets close to that point. I love that she trusts me enough to let go and have some fun.
"Oh God!" she shouts, I don't let up and her face is turning bright red.
"Nope, not God," I say.
"Uncle!" she tries. We are rolling on the floor and even though she is the one being tickled, I am laughing just as hard.
"I'm not your Uncle."
"Aunt, dog, pony!" I stop.
"Did you just shout, 'Aunt, dog, pony'?" I ask.
"I was just going to keep trying to see what would make you stop," she laughs and tries to catch her breath. Because of our play and rolling around on the ground she has ended up on my lap; we both stiffen at this realization. I'm not sure what to do in this uncharted territory; we're both frozen. Feeling her warm body resting right on my dick is about to make me go crazy. Just when I am about to move her, I feel her warm lips pressed against mine. I jump back in shock.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," she says, scrambling off my lap.
"No, no. It's ok, I was just surprised is all," I say softly, grabbing her hand and bringing her back to me. Slowly I bring my lips to hers and ever so gently kiss her, wanting her to lead. After a while of our lips just basically pressed together, she does. She slowly moves her lips, and I follow her lead. I feel her hands go into my hair and it feels so fucking good.
I know that I should stop us before it gets too far; I know that she isn't ready for this, but I can't stop. Her lips on mine, her hands on me, it's making me lose all sense of control. I bring my hands up and wrap them in her long hair; she moans in my mouth, and I about fucking lose it. I pick her up and walk her to the bed. I want to get off the floor. I know that it isn't a good idea to take her to the bed, but I can't help it. I do it anyway. My brain can't stop my body, and I lay her on her back and continue to kiss her.
Her hands continue to roam in my hair and her lips move against mine. She is squirming underneath me. I take it as a sign of pleasure and continue to explore her mouth. In an instant, her mouth freezes, and I hear her whimper. I fly back so fast it's as if there is a cable attached to my back me pulling me off of her.
She's lying on her back, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She's whimpering and saying "no, no, no" repeatedly. Slowly, she curls herself into a fetal position and starts crying for her mom. My heart breaks as the realization hits me, I did this to her. I grab a fist full of my hair, a frustrated groan escapes my lips. My chest is constricting from the panic that I'm feeling; I don't know what to do.
I pace in front of the bed. I'm sure the worst possible thing at this point would be to touch her, but it's taking every fiber of my being not to. I just want to hold her, love her and promise that I would never hurt her. I want to take her pain and carry it for her.
I bend down by her head on the bed and look at her, softly repeating her name. It's obvious that she's miles away, her eyes darting around, unfocused. She's reliving something very bad that happened to her, that much is obvious. She's going back and forth between Italian and English. I can't really make out much; she just pleads for someone to help her, and she calls for her mom. She begs her mom not to leave her. I sit by her head, pulling out my hair, having no idea what to do.
She's still crying and pleading, then out of nowhere, I hear her call for "fuggiasco." She pleads for "her fuggiasco."
My heart swells, in our last and only conversation about her past, she called me that, fuggiasco. She had said that it meant a runaway, a fugitive. I guess she's right; after what I told her about my past, she would think that. I didn't even tell her everything. If she really knew about my past, she would definitely think of me as a runaway.
She cries out for her fuggiasco again, and then she actually says my name.
"Edward, help!" In no time I leap forward, bringing her into my arms, pleading for forgiveness for how stupid I am. I never should've encouraged anything physical with her; I knew better. She wraps her body around me and clings to my neck. I feel her hot tears soak my shoulder. I sit on the bed and rock her back and forth until she calms. I tell her over and over again that I'm here and won't let anyone hurt her.
She gasps for air and is still whimpering a little but has calmed down a lot. I'm still whispering apologies into her ear, hoping that she will be able to forgive me and not run. What the fuck was I thinking? I let my dick make the decisions, and this is where it got us.
I have no idea for how long, but I sit and hold her, shocked that she even wants me to. The only thing I can think of is she got lost in what we were doing and didn't see me on top of her anymore. She saw the motherfucker that hurt her and still is hurting her. My grip tightens on her protectively. No one will ever hurt her again. If it's my only mission in life that's fine, but she will be happy and safe. In order for me to keep her safe, I decide I need to know what happened, what's going on. Once she calms completely we will be having a heart to heart, and she will tell me.
She falls asleep on my chest, her legs straddling me. I lean back to look at her face. She would look so peaceful in her sleep, except, her hair is sticking to her face where her tears have dried. Her skin is still an angry shade of red from her tortured memories. I move her hair aside and kiss her forehead. I let out a big sigh, I feel so helpless. I don't know what the next step is for us, but I do know that she needs more help than I can give her. I rest my head on top of hers and pass out, emotionally exhausted from our evening.
~E*B~
Sometime later, I wake and feel cold. There's no warm body on me, and I go into an instant panic. She must be gone. I'm about to bolt out of bed, ready to go find her, when I see her form in the dark corner. I don't move, not wanting to scare the shit out of her again. I look at the clock and see it's after three in the morning.
She's sitting in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, staring out the open window into the darkness. The expression on her face is one of pain. She looks completely defeated by whatever monsters have been chasing her, and the ghosts that haunt her seem to have won this round.
I sit against the headboard and watch her, her stillness is frightening. I know she's awake, her eyes are open, but she's like a statue, as she stares out the window. Slowly I stand, my neck is so stiff from leaning against the headboard. I move it around, and it cracks loudly. When I look at her again, she's staring right back at me.
"Hey," I say, my voice thick with sleep. She says nothing, just gives me a weak smile. No, we are not starting this over. I won't be able to stand the constant silence like when we first met. I stand and slowly walk over to her. I sit in a chair a good distance away from her.
"Bella, I'm so sorry," I say, the words come out as a plea.
"Edward," she says, so softly. My name coming from her breath washes over me.
"You have no reason to be sorry, at all." I'm about to argue with her that it was my fault. If I hadn't jumped her like a horny motherfucker none of this would ever have happened.
"No, I know what you're going to say and just... no." Her voice sounds so weak; it matches how she looks - defeated. She looks as if she wants to continue but can't. I stay quiet in hopes that she will go on. We stare out the window together. Time seems to have stopped. Outside looks still and dead, and I feel bitter. In my mind, everyone is sleeping peacefully while we are sitting up, being tortured by our pasts. I know it's irrational, but it feels so true. Slowly, she turns to face me, a tear escapes her eye.
"Edward, I think... I think there are some things that I need to tell you."
Dun, Dun Dun! *Insert dramatic music*
Ok, next chapter is what most of you have been waiting for! Bella's history! Until then, I would love to hear your theories over at the forum... some of you ladies have great ones!
Please take a minute and let me know what you think, it makes my week!
See you all next Monday!