I own nothing to do with Twilight clearly. I'm so sorry guys for the long wait for a update, my computer isn't working. It's so frustrating! Thank you all so so much for your reviews and alerts, it makes me so happy! I really hope this chapter isn't a disappoint but.. I will go run and hide now. :) Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

The week after Michael's party went on in a mind-numbing blur.

The first time I noticed his car there by the lot, parked always in the same place across the road by the school gates, I froze. My body, my mind, froze.

Each and everytime I saw him sitting there in his car, waiting for me after school to drive me home like old times after he'd knocked off from work and I'd finished all my days worth of classes, a part of me broke inside even more. He never got out to even make the attempt to speak to me, to apologize and plead with me for forgiveness. Maybe he knew he would only be wasting time, and valuable effort, in trying.

All he did, was stare...

His eyes would stare intently into my own through the scrolled down window of his car and, each time, I felt myself drawing closer and closer to the point of giving in.

Desolate, was the only expression I could think of with how he looked; His mouth mashed together, lips pressed tight. Green eyes downcast and fiercely bloodshot from lack of sleep, crying... or something similar. Miserable, deeply miserable. And all the smoke... all the curls of cigarette smoke swirling in his car. He would always be smoking a cigarette, as if it helped subdue his pain and frustrations somehow.

And every single time I steered myself with resolve and walked straight past his car, my heart sank a little more, at the expression on his face. The way he would slump his head back against the seat, cover his face with his hands... the way his mouth would hang open, like he was either screaming into them, or crying. Wasn't quite sure which.

It killed me inside to see our separation effected him the way it did, but there was ultimately no going back. All the promises he made, the promises to keep his jealousy for Michael at bay... were broken. That line of trust and confidence was crossed. And, while they say forgiveness is divine, I didn't think I could ever forgive him. Not in a million years.

I felt so confused, and upset.

There was a part of me, down inside, that sneered at me, told me, Oh you'll give in soon enough. You love him, he's altered you too much. You love his company, all the tender looks he gives you. All the hand-touching, the smiles and the butterflies you feel in your tummy while around him...The jealousy flatters you in some sick and twisted way. And, maybe that part of my subconscious was telling me the undeniable truth. Soon, I would crack and relent, and forgive him, sooner or later. But I fought against that part, so so hard.

That wasn't the only hard part, noticing the way he would park his car outside my school, coaxing me to give in with aching looks and tragic chain-smoking habits.

Because... then, there was the text messages he sent me.

More than ten a day, always saying different things but ultimately rounding off to the same thing. Always making me break down into tears, into aching to surrender, and wanting, to forgive him.

Some sweet, remorseful. Heartwrenching:

Bella, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. If it's any consolation, I still mean what I said. I love you. Always will, even you ignoring me can't, won't, change that...

How many times do I have to tell you how sorry I am? Please talk to me. Please come see me, you know where I live and I'll always welcome you in...

I miss you. God, I miss you so much it hurts. I miss being around you, I miss feeling your warm skin on my hands. I despise myself for what I did. I honestly do and, if I could somehow reverse time so that everything was normal between us, that it would make you here with me now, there is no doubt in my mind what I'd do to you. Kiss you, touch you. Be with you, make blissful love to you, like we'd arranged before the party. Love you...

Some full of palpable irritation:

What can I say to make it up to you? An eternity of grovelling at your feet? I didn't know I had hit him that hard. I didn't know I had knocked him unconscious. When I'm angry, I can't control these things. Surely, you understand that. I know it's no excuse to how I behaved, and I'm sorry. If I could take it back, trust me I would. Within a heartbeat, I would...

And then finally some, in a more spiteful air:

I don't care if it's ludicrous, sitting there in my car to pick you up from school anymore. Everytime you ignore me, and deliberately keep walking on by, just makes me overwhelmed with love for you even more. Never forget that I'll never let you go, darling...

God, I missed him. And I wanted to be with him so so bad. I wanted to see him smile, and laugh again, and I wanted to be the one responsible for making it happen.

But then, there was the idea in my head, it would be betraying Michael, if I had gone back to him.

Deep down inside, I knew I wouldn't let myself live that night down, had I agreed to see him again, to start anew with him. That night, the vacant look in Edward's eyes, Michael's blood staining his knuckles, had been a constant relived nightmare for me. Even in my dreams.

I'd stressed over that evening day after day, trying to make sense of it all.

Michael, thankfully, didn't sustain any serious injuries, aside from being knocked unconscious and a low loss of blood. The doctors made him undergo several brain scans- they were concerned the heavy effort of Edward's blows had somehow given him serious brain damage and, luckily they were wrong.

And yet, constantly replaying that night, I couldn't comprehend how Edward had fared so well. There was no ounce of blood on him from the attack, at all. No apparent facial injuries from Michael's fists. What I couldn't understand, was why Edward hadn't bled as equally? He was perfectly fine. No scratch or bruise on his face, at all.

It was bewildering to make sense of.

Having been the cause of the fight- and witness - the fight looked brutal and, yet, Edward was perfectly fine. No bruise, no blood from any fists that flew his way. A hair out of place, maybe. That's it. No blood, and Edward was human like the rest of us. Shouldn't, at least, one pound to the nose, have made him bleed from the impact? Not that I wasn't relieved he wasn't hurt, in any shape or form.

It was just... confusing. Everything was confusing. Especially, when it came to him. I just couldn't understand how it was possible for him to make it through such a fight without any injuries of his own.

He had to bleed, right?

"So, how was Biology?" Rosalie asked wryly, combing out her long blonde hair with her fingers. It was like an inside joke between us, since forever; We both loathed Biology, especially the unappealing lessons when we were forced to dissect animals, like frogs, and when we had to probe and prod into cows intestines. I shuddered, and she giggled. "Did you have to dissect anything today?"

"No, thank god," I breathed out, mildly relieved. "It would just have given me more reason to be in such a gloomy mood... seeing all the dead animals."

She frowned sympathetically. "Are you still feeling that bad over the whole Michael Newton incident? Bella, it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. If Edward hadn't been there then..." She cut me off, irritated.

"Bella, you've got to stop thinking about that. It was beyond your control! I mean, it's understandable, we all feel bad, but there is no use taking the blame and-"

Rosalie became very distracted, all of a sudden. Her conversation halted meaningfully, and her train of sight went elsewhere to somewhere- or someone- behind me. She leaned back in her chair, rolling her bright blue eyes at something indiscreetly. She gave out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"Bella," she started to warn at me, in a low voice that ought to have held some significance to me only didn't.

Before I could turn my head to see who had her so preoccupied, a pair of large white hands shot out over my eyes, fingertips mashing into my nose. And not just any person's hands- -

"Guess who?" He breathed out, in a teasing, yet distinctively humourless way.

Everything curled in my body and clenched in fear, because the instance his hands covered over my eyelids, I knew it was him. His long-fingered hands... his icy touch that made me tremble and affected my body in ways, like never before. Everyone else's touch, it seemed I was immune to. But his...well, never his.

"Bella." His mouth was directly on my ear; his urgent breaths fanning over it in his desperation. "Please, we need to talk," he groaned out. "You can't keep ignoring me like this. Frankly, it's driving me insane!"

Finally regaining my wits over the momentary shock of realizing, I slapped his hands away from my face, and rose to my feet. In my haste to get away from him, the legs on my chair screeched, and echoed in the long and crowded cafeteria, when I bumped into it. I stared down at my hands, knotting my fingers together, merely because I couldn't take looking at him anymore. I wasn't willing enough to subject myself to it ever again, because whenever I did, it just brought back those wretched memories at Michael's party of how far gone he was, at how irrationally violent he had become. I still couldn't believe he was capable of such a horrid thing, not when he was always so sweet and thoughtful towards me. If yet, alarmingly tempermental with his moodswings.

It just hurt too much to look him in the face.

"Please, Edward," I breathed desperately. "Just stay away from me!" He didn't listen anyway. Deep down, I think I already knew he wouldn't. He was far too stubborn for that.

"Bella..." He came at me desperately, and his hands grasped gently at my face, bringing my line of sight up towards him. My dark eyelashes fluttered, and I winced.

I couldn't prevent the gentle gasp that slipped from my mouth, nor could I, the brief fluttering of eyes, at the long-awaited reunion of his familiar and greatly missed touch on my skin.

Oh, god. I felt I was hyperventilating. My head was swimming. Couldn't he understand I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore? I didn't want to feel those hands on me anymore... those same ghastly hands and knuckles that had been painted in Michael's wet blood.

"I'm so sorry for what I did. You cannot begin to possibly comprehend how much so." One of his hands stroked my hair at my shoulder, fingers rubbing the texture softly and, unconsciously, I shivered. "I had a long think about it, realized I was doing it only because I... I never want to lose you. Not to someone like him!"

"I don't care," I breathed, trying and failing to sound firm and determined. "Words. They're just words to me!"

"Please." The word was out of his mouth like an urgent whimper. Leaning down, he kissed my forehead gently. "It's not just words, they'll never be just words, Bella."

He kissed me again, gently trailing goose-bump inducing kisses along my jaw and up along the side of my mouth. It's too suffocating and, yet, I just don't have the strength to fight him off, to push him away- out of my life, out of my heart- anymore.

Still... no. It isn't enough. "Edward, stop," I pleaded weakly. I needed to get away from him. I needed time to think to myself, again and again, about the whole situation. "Please, just...No!"

He put an arm around me, holding me close to his chest. I tried to push him away, only it was a feeble, feeble attempt.

"You can't avoid me forever," he breathed against my lips, speaking the obvious truth out loud. Of course, realistically I couldn't. But I could try. "You know you can't, Bella, we both know it!" His breath was like it always had been before, minty. Amazing against my throbbing skin. Somehow calming, still... not enough to erase the panicky feelings inside.

I was so close to giving in... And I didn't want to be, at all.

"Let's go back to how things were before," he murmured in my skin. His voice was soft, tinged in desperation and urgency.

"No, it's done! We're done! I can't look at you the same after-"

"- Please, no, baby." He whimpered against my hair in distress over my words; nuzzling his nose deeply into the strands and inhaling, hard. I pushed him again- my palms outwards and fingers splayed open to his hard chest- with all my might... only he was all hard muscle and strength. Tears brimmed over the corners of my eyes. "Bella, I need you." His voice had turned hoarse, his breathing more intense. "Please, don't say it's over. Don't say it's done, when I'm so sorry!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before-umph!"

My breathing hitched in my throat, the words cut off and left lingering, as he reached over and ran his icy long fingers down the side of my chin, over the lining of my lips, halting their movement and words from flowing out.

"Sssh."

I hated the effect he had on me with his hands alone, how weak I seemed to be around him in stating my wishes.

"- Don't finish it." It tore out of his mouth like a low, defensive whine. "Don't even say it, because... don't you remember what I told you? Has it somehow slipped your mind?"

Grasping my chin in his hand, he yanked my head up. A strangled yelp erupted from my mouth at the forced movement of my head. All my resolve was gone, was crumbling at my feet... at the way his green eyes stared into mine fervently. I couldn't seem to break his hypnotic gaze.

"I told you, like in that text message, I'll never let you go. What part of that can't you understand, Bella?" Though he said it gently, you could hear the frustration, the deep-seated annoyance. His breathing was uncontrolled, loudly fast and low whinnies.

I opened my mouth to speak, yet again he covered my lips with his fingers, pressing them still.

"Sssh, let me finish," he whispered, his eyes narrowing, darkening a coal black somehow. "You know what happened was a mistake. We both know it, and I regret it so badly but I can't take it back. You know, I never intentionally hurt your classmate at the party. I would never do anything to intentionally upset you, but you need to stop avoiding me right now."

His expression was stern, unnervingly commanding. A bit like he was the parent, and I was the child he was scolding. His fingers brushed lightly over the curve of my lips again, leaving them tingling...prickling.

"Things have to go back to the way they once were, understand? Because if not..." He paused, somewhat dramatically. It was intimidating. "If not, then... I'm afraid there may very well be even more consequences. Consequences... that we don't want to happen, Bella, if you catch my drift, so please." A cry of protest got caught in my throat, when so suddenly, he leaned down and kissed me.

His lips were demanding, impossible to resist, firm and rough, molding into mine.

The strength he had was... no match with mine. He was too strong, physically. My pushes to break the kiss went unnoticed by him when his hands gripped the back of my arms and held me in place, while he prolonged it. I was finding myself breathless, and woozy, by the time he pulled away, and stepped back, his hands closing over my hips to keep me from losing my balance.

The back of his hand scraped softly over my cheekbone, while I tried to regain my steadiness of breath. "I'll see you after school," he said, in a final tone that left no room for discussion. "I love you, I'm so relieved we've resolved this issue and can move forward. Remember, I love you," he muttered vehemently. "It's all that matters, not how wrong I acted. Not how indecent it was, how inappropriate. It's just about us, everything I'll ever do."

He blew out of his mouth shakily, as he stared down at me forlornly, raking two hands over his auburn hair, and back over his constantly crumpled forehead again.

And then, he was gone.