I own nothing to do with Twilight, never will. Just love the characters and are kind of... making them twisted a bit.

Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your alerts, and reviews. Thank you for reading. Hope you won't mind all the updates- I owe it to you all anyhow. Hope you'll enjoy this one!

I apologize for this chapter, also. Bella is extremely frustrated over everything; What Edward did, with Charlie, and she says some pretty hurtful things which I'm sure we all do when mad. And, as for Edward, well, he's crazily infatuated with Bella, as always, and frustrated with her as well. Again, I apologize. This is as "dramatic" as it'll most likely get.

I hate most of the chapters I write, but I don't think that'll ever change lol. Hope you'll bear with me!

Love you all, you all are the reason why I'm keeping up with updating! I truly appreciate everything xxx

Chapter 21

It all happened so fast- one minute, he was paying gloriously excruciating attention to my neck, and then, in the next, his long-fingers were curling through my damp ropey hair, and he was pushing it gently out of the way behind my shoulder and turning slightly, so that he could look me directly in the eyes.

Anxiously, I held his probing, intense gaze and, I knew automatically then, of what he wanted; He wanted to kiss me and, unconsciously, when my eyes were drawn to that slightly parted, wet mouth of his, I almost wanted him to, as well. I felt I wanted him to kiss me, then, with such aching need.

That beautiful mouth of his. Those... teeth.

He was breathing a lot more harshly through his mouth than I would have prefered to be aware of.

But no. I couldn't. I needed to get away from him.

He brought his hand up, fingers tracing over my water-soaked chin. Then, slowly and gently, he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, enough to deliberately part them wider. With a determined sense of purpose, he took in a long and loud breath through his nostrils, preparing himself, and leaned down to go in for the kill.

My head was reeling with his actions.

No. No! I couldn't let it be this way. It couldn't be this way. I would be a traitor, both to myself, and to Charlie, in letting him kiss me. I would only be spurring on whatever it is he wanted from me right now, in keeping me here with him. It wasn't right. I wasn't going to let it happen- not again. Once, was enough, in letting him affectionately kiss my shoulder, and do whatever thing he did with my blood. Really. I think.

I placed my hand gently on his arm- about the only thing I was capable of doing. He paused a fraction, sensing my resistance, his wet face inches from mine, his mouth curled into a frown.

"Here, you can have the water all to yourself now," I breathed, whirling out of the way, intentionally keeping my voice light.

"Bella," he panted out behind me, his quiet tone laced with sheer confusion, as I treaded carefully away from him. I didn't want to slip. "What are you doing? Why are you avoiding me, like this? I-I just wanted to-?" His voice faltered into frustrated silence.

I knew I had hurt his feelings, only currently, I couldn't bring myself to care. I had more pressing concerns to be worried about, such as keeping myself as far away from unreasonable temptation as possible.

I stepped out of the shower, my bare feet slapping against the tiles with my quick and needy exit in escaping him, before I did something I seriously regretted.

I knew that wasn't truly the reason of why he came into the shower with me. He was probably hoping for... more. Stuff I didn't feel right in giving him. Maybe, if the situation had been different, less complicated, and... I was here in the hotel out of my own free will with him, I mightn't have hesitated. But it wasn't that way, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't share that moment with him.

Still, I gave myself a mental clap on the back regardless for effectively taking hold of the situation by pulling myself away from it.

I snatched a white towel off the railing and draped it across my trembling shoulders. I couldn't seem to stop shaking, and I hadn't the slightest clue why. I knew Edward would never intentionally hurt me- at least, I hoped so. So, why was I feeling this way, so tense and cold, and on-edge? My teeth were chattering together loudly. My hands were unsteady and weak, when I covered myself up, and tried to wrap the towel even tighter around my naked self.

I thought quietly and hard, for several long moments, staring back absentmindedly at my blurry reflection in the tall mirror, fogged and misted up by the heat of the shower that was still running while Edward stood in there, washing himself.

I still didn't quite understand why he had me here, exactly. He had mentioned, outside before, about my eighteenth birthday coming up in several weeks. I still couldn't quite understand why he would bother with it all. Slowly, my mind danced with various explanations into his words of before.

Eighteen was the legal age to get married by law. Was that perhaps the reason into why Edward was holding me here? I shook my head lightly to clear that haunting trail of thought. It just didn't seem something Edward would intend to do. Then again, I had always believed I knew Edward, the real Edward. But then... I found out about everything else. About what he truly was. Even throughout those seven months of dating... I never felt so closer to anyone in my entire life, yet now...

I've never been more closer to someone- never had such a close, intimate relationship with someone, as I had with him throughout the past few months of dating- and, realistically, it turned out, I didn't even know him at all.

The spraying jet of water shut off, the shower curtain was pushed open to the side, and, I felt my heart leap in my throat, once he stepped out. I forced myself not to pay any attention to him. But, like before in the shower... it was increasingly hard not to. He pulled one of the towels off the rack for himself, and hung it loosely around his hips to conceal his private parts. Instant relief washed over. Thank god!

Without so much as a look at me, he strolled on past me and pushed through the sliding door out of the bathroom. I was alone now. That ought to have made me content inside, only funnily enough, it didn't. It was the way he walked, that got to me; Head down, eyes forward, the muscles in his jaw twitching, his back and shoulders tense. He was grumpy with me over what happened in shower, with me not letting him kiss me. I know he was!

And, like before when I deliberately made him upset over my lying, that same burning flare of guilt filled within deeply to the point where I wanted to disregard every ounce of logically planned reactions and just head on out there, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him senseless into next morning.

I gave my foggy reflection an austere look. Don't you dare go feeling sorry for him, I told her sternly. He's the one at fault here, not you. He doesn't like the fact that you're being responsible and not giving him the satisfaction of being affectionate towards him, then that's his problem! Don't feel bad over it, Bella. It's his problem- not yours. Don't let him guilt-trip you, you-

Whoops. I almost laughed hysterically to myself over my silent pep-talk, when he entered back into the bathroom, this time wearing a clean thin white V-necked shirt and loose grey trackpants. Whoa, he was even still barefoot. Very casual for him. How... weird. I wasn't used to him wearing something so sloppy, and comfortable. All the times he had spent with me, it was either a nice business suit that complimented his marvellously tall, lanky build, or a clean and crisp buttoned-up white dress shirt, with grey slacks and polished, shiny shoes.

I turned and peeked over at him curiously. He had a paper shopping bag dangling off his index finger.

"What's in that?" I asked warily, motioning to it with my finger.

He stared at me in silence for a moment, something there in his look that I couldn't fathom, then bent down and plunged a hand into the bag.

"Here, I brought this for you." He tossed something, underhand, a soft dark material, over at me. Surprisingly for me, I caught it with ease before it hit the white tiles. "I figured you might need something to sleep in. I didn't have time to collect your pajamas when I was over at your house, during the altercation with Charlie and James..."

I held it up by the thin lacy, shoulder straps and inspected it closely.

My eyes popped out. It wasn't any type of shirt to wear to bed, however, but fancy black silk lingerie; A sleeveless, satin black camisole, with sheer lace design around the waistband and cleavage area. Holy hell.

Idly, I pictured Edward walking into a lingerie store for women, buying this for me. I imagined the look on the woman behind the counter's face, when he went up to her to purchase it, so full of ease in a crowded store full of thirty-something-year-old-women. I pictured them thinking him so weird for buying women's lingerie. Frankly, it didn't break me out of my grumpy mindset over it at all.

I raised my eyebrows and whistled loudly. "Huh. And, I thought you said you didn't like revealing clothes on a woman, namely me?" I teased, slightly miffed.

He chuckled, only I wasn't doing it to humour him. "Well, I've had a slight change of heart. You're becoming the exception."

I hurled it at him. Effortlessly, he caught it between his fingers. "Then you wear it," I muttered, tersely.

Then exploded into laughter at the indulgant train of thought that took me. Edward, in all his tall masculinity, wearing women's lingerie that strained tight against his broad shoulders and flaunted off his delightful chest hair. Oh, god. I shared a small smile to myself over it. How priceless.

"Bella, don't be melodramatic," he scolded, tearing me out of my silly thoughts, coming closer. He held it out to me, his expression stark. "I've seen all of you, already. You have the most flawless skin I've ever seen in centuries and, frankly, I want to see it again, and again..."

"No. I'm not wearing it!" My head started burning with irritation. Who does he think he is, telling me what to wear? "I'm not wearing that! No way!"

"Bella, you're being difficult." He stared at me in silence for a long moment, visibly searing with frustration over my behaviour. I didn't care whether I was being argumentative, or childish, even. He had no right to tell me what to wear. Sure, he might be holding me hostage and has, at least, a small amount of control over me right now. But no way would I be letting him dictate what I wear to bed. "Is this about what happened in the shower?"

"What?" Well, that threw me off majorly.

He sighed heavily, then looked away from me quickly. "I didn't mean to frighten you off in the shower when I tasted your blood, I just... I felt this raging compulsion to. I didn't mean to hurt you." He looked guilty, his expression downtrodden. And, he ought to have felt that way over it.

"Well, apology or not, it really didn't help your case at all!"

"Look, if... if it's any consolation to you," he began, his expression earnest, "I won't ever let it happen again. And, just so you know... your taste is the most mouth-watering I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

Suddenly, I started to panic. "The most mouth-watering?" I rolled my eyes at him, incredulous. "Really, that is another thing you go and say that doesn't help prove your case of not wanting to kill me!"

He exploded into laughter, shakily. There was something there; a wicked glint to his eyes that unsettled me deeply. I laced my fingers together, and peered down at them, stressed. "Trust me, Bella. It's not your blood I hunger for."

"What... what are you hungering for, then?"

"It's not your blood, for one thing. It's not the taste, or the scent." His voice was low, and raspy. I swallowed dryly at the peculiar tone that had taken over his tone. "It's not your beautiful body, either, though that's part of it. It's you."

I blinked up at him, yet again at a loss in understanding. "What are you talking about, Edward?"

Boy, did he like to keep me guessing. I certainly didn't know him at all. Who was this person? Not the kind-hearted, protective and loving one I knew and spent my time with all those months back. What happened to that familiar Edward I appreciated, and found I could easily love? Because, this person... him, and the way he was being now... he was not him. Then again, maybe that person never fully existed in the first place? Maybe he was playing me all along?

"Look, Edward," I sighed deeply, in resignation. "I'm going to go in the other room, and sleep now. After these past few hectic days and hours, I think I deserve that little piece of time to myself to recoup. I can't even think properly right now. Nothing you're saying, is even registering, in here." I tapped a forefinger to my left temple. "Right now, all you're telling me, everything, is all cryptic messages and confusion. So, please, just leave me alone in peace for a few hours. You owe it to me! Goodnight."

He stared after me, helpless and agitated, hands dangling in front of him, fisting the material of the black lace camisole, as I carefully stepped past him.

I trudged my way straight over to the bed and, without a single coherent thought, plopped myself down headfirst onto the mattress. I couldn't even be bothered bringing the sheet down and covering it over myself to keep myself warm. I couldn't even bring myself to care that my hair was still drenched, that it was likely to soak into the sheets, or that I was scantily covered in the towel that was sticking into my wet skin like glue.

Sleep. It was all I wanted for right now. It was all I cared for.

And, within hardly a minute, as my eyes closed over, it welcomed me in with it's grasp, pulling me deeply into exhausted darkness. Finally, I was away from everything. I was away from him. I had escaped into a whole new world, of darkness, and dreaming. Even for a few hours.

Someone was murmuring deeply, and quietly, into my skin; Words and phrases my disordered sleep-riddled brain could not comprehend.

Still, I wasn't so drunk with sleep and long gone, that I could not feel the impact that something, the solidity of a hard and heavy human body, was draped over the lower half of my body, skin flat against skin.

Cold, hard rigid flesh sticking to my thighs. Fingertips that gently brushed over my cheek that was not resting flat against the spongy mattress underneath me, moving various threads of my still-damp long hair from my face, tucking it behind my earlobe.

Someone's thinly-sock-clad feet resting in between mine, ankles rubbing against ankles. Hairy shins prickling against my bare, smooth ones. Long fingers closing carefully over my chin, and gently, gently... moving my head over, and up.

I started to stir, groggily, turning my body spine-flat to the soft mattress. I wanted to open my eyes to check and see what was going on for real, only they wouldn't let me. They wanted to stay shut. They wanted me to sink back under into the depths of a dream-like world, where everything was so carefree and I wasn't stuck here... stuck in a hotel room, confined, to where he will be, always.

All the muscles in my body slowly clenched with the dawning realization of what was happening, of just who was here with me, hovering over me on the bed, touching my face with his fingers and doing other various things my mind couldn't process yet, plunging me deeper into the mattress due to their weight.

Something pressed into my mouth; A pair of lips softening deeply into mine, lingeringly, and my adrenaline started racing, and I felt cold all over.

I was slowly being brought back down into self-conscious awareness, when all the fogginess in my brain gradually started to clear up, and I heard him.

He was talking to me. Pleading with me. Begging to me.

"Bella, darling," he was murmuring desperately, into my lips. "Wake up, please. Stay awake with me for the night."

My eyes popped open of their own accord and, there he was. His white face was floating over my eyes in the darkness, and he smiled, so so widely, so happily. My eyelids flickered, struggling. They felt so heavy, so thick with sleep.

"Bella." He brought his hands together, and was clapping, right near my left ear. He was trying to keep me from falling back to sleep. He was hoping a loud enough noise would rouse me into a permanant state of consciousness. It wasn't working at all. "Bella, no, no. Don't go back to sleep! Stay awake with me, please!"

"Tired," I mumbled, letting my eyelids shut and envelop me into glorious darkness again. "Let me...sleep."

"No!" More clapping in my other ear this time. Oh, god. What was with him? I sighed heavily through my nostrils. I felt my whole face pucker up in irritation. "Don't fall back to sleep. Stay with me!"

"But... I am..." I slurred, sleepily. "You have me here... where I can't..." I huffed out a low, drained sob.

"Please." His breath was soft over my face, along with his jagged pleading for my attention. "I want you to stay up all night with me. It's all I ask. Bella, baby, please..."

My head throbbed in deep annoyance.

"I want to sleep!" I shouted, forgetting myself and just who it was I was talking to. "Can't you see that? Unlike some people...I require sleep!"

He was doing it before it even sunk into my brain. I felt him reach down, until his fingers started massaging around the inside of my left thigh, his fingers circling and rubbing various points of my flesh.

"Fine, then," he whispered harshly, his shallow breaths fanning over my nose. "You go back to sleep then, and leave me." I caught the indignant tone in his voice. He was sulking!

"Edward," I puffed out, simmering. "I... I can't help that I need to sleep. Can you respect that, please?"

"But, Bella, I don't want you to sleep. That's my point." He was murmuring in my hair now. Oh, god. What was he doing? What did he want from me? "Just for this one night, I would like you to stay awake with me, or at least make the attempt, so that we can talk and spend some time together."

My brows furrowed. "What? We are together! You have me here!"

Though my hands felt like lead, I managed. I slid them onto his chest, and tried to push him, up, up and away. My head was whirling, and I made my own growl of deep-seated irritation, when he took hold of my hands, pulled them up and over my head, and held them there. I started panting heavily, my eyes squinted tight in helpless unwant.

Tightening his hold of my hands, he slid one of his out, clasped over the pair of them with the other, and started roaming. He trailed his fingers down my forehead, down along the bridge of my nose, to my parted lips. Catching him off-guard, and with such angry exhaustion, I opened my mouth, wide as it would possibly go, and managed to catch one of his fingers. I bit down, hard, as possible.

Whatever I was anticipating to come next from it, some shout of agony or pain, did not come. Rather instead, he burst out laughing, his chuckles vibrating through his chest to mine.

I felt him lean down into me. His mouth was right on my ear. "Now, you really shouldn't have done that," he whispered darkly. "That only just reinforced what I've dreamed about this whole time. You, and me." I spat his finger out from between my teeth, and gagged. "You and me, as one, and the same."

"Please, Edward," I muttered, desperately. "Stop. I need to sleep. I can't think properly!"

"Oh, don't. Worry." He was speaking in between kisses all over my forehead. I winced, and grunted. "We still have two weeks to wait, until the grand finale."

"Stop!" His hand loosened it's hold on my hands the slightest fraction at the word and, without hesitation, I managed to yank one free. I brought it up to the back of his head, knotting my fingers into the small short strands of hair there, and I yanked and pulled hard with all my might.

Surprisingly, he hissed.

"Bella, why are you doing that, baby?" His voice was hurt, and accusatory. I didn't care. I yanked, and twisted again. "You're trying to hurt me by doing that, aren't you? You wish that if I were able to feel it, it would deter me, don't you?" He was speaking through his teeth, getting louder and louder by the second. "As if that could stop me from trying to show you that I love you. I'm trying to make love to you here, Bella! I'm trying to-"

My hand connected to the side of his face, palm flat open to the side of his cheek, and I grunted.

"I don't want you to make love to me!" I was screaming, unable to help myself. "I want to go to sleep! I want you to leave me the hell alone, Edward! I wish I could sleep for days, and days, because, you know... I'm sure when I do, I'll forget about all of this! About you keeping me here against my will, and about how crazy you are! I don't know you anymore! I... I don't even think I love you anymore, because of this... this person you've turned into! Your friends, they hurt Charlie!"

It seemed a good thing to do at the time. But once I got started with him, I found it near to impossible to shut up. Once I managed though, everything fell unnervingly quiet. Even him, aside from his loud, and uncontrolled breathing.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks, and I felt myself cave in completely. I knew I had hurt him just then, but I was the only way I could reach out to him. This was all I had left.

And, it seemed, my words were exactly his undoing...

"Bella..." He breathed hoarsely, after the dreadful silence that lapsed in between us. His voice was trembling.

"Just let me sleep, all right?" I gasped, between sobs. "I need to sleep. I need you to stay away from me so I can sleep, all right? Please."

He sighed heavily at my words, and the instance I felt his hand on the side of my cheek, I slapped it away from me with a sigh.

"Don't touch me! I don't want it from you anymore!"

"Look, I... I never intended to hurt you, or make you feel this way. If you need to know why I'm being like this, then I'll have no trouble in making it clear on you." He swallowed loudly, and sighed unevenly again. "I just... I don't want you slipping through my fingers. I know I didn't go in the right away about any of this, but...my biggest fear, I've learned now, is losing you. Losing you, for what I truly am. Losing you... for another person." He made a strange despairing noise from in the back of his throat. "And, I don't want that. I don't want any of that, even. I've learned that I can't cope without you, I can't function properly, when I'm not near you, and when we are separated..."

I was numb, from both shock and exhaustion.

"Bella, I can't stand being away from you anymore. And, when your father shut me out that night... I suppose those instincts set in where I felt this raging compulsion to extract anyone that tries to pull you apart from me." He reached out to comfort me and, this time, it was a lot harder to push him away. His hand came down onto my shoulder, and he squeezed. "You are my life, you are everything to me. And, losing you... would be like losing a vital piece in me that holds me all together. If I lose you, I know what will become of me. I'll either die by executing myself, or I'll go ballistic and probably go into a feeding frenzy and slaughter everyone that comes within a two meter distance. I'm merely speaking hypothetically, of course, but who knows?"

I blinked up at him through the darkness, my pulse racing madly. Unhealthy. Everything was so... unhealthy. More reason for me to get away from him. His dependance on our relationship... and on me, was not... right.

"Don't you see this is why you can never be separated from me, baby?" I felt his nose in my hair again, and he inhaled deeply. "Wouldn't you like to be my wife? Wouldn't you like to marry me?"

Whoa, now. My head was reeling from the sudden change in topic.

"What?" I pulled away from him. "Marry you? Are you serious?" I laughed derisively, I couldn't help it.

"Don't laugh, please." His tone was playful, only I didn't see it that way at all. All that he was telling me... was, for lack of a better word, crazy as nuts. "Seriously. Don't you see the coincidence in this? I take you away from your home, and bring you along with me, and then...your eighteenth birthday so happens to be approaching in a two weeks time. This is fate, don't you see, love?" He laughed to himself, astonished over his mindless ramblings that made no sense to me at all. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be. Like in the song we made love to; 'Like a river flows, surely to the sea, some things in life, darling... they're meant to be.' That's us, Bella. What more reason do we need, for you to become my wife?"

Oh my god. I wasn't even breathing.

Edward had truly lost it, and that had me sobbing even harder to the point where I could not stop.

"Oh, tears of happiness. Don't you see? This is forever, for us."