January 1, 1971 — Forks, Washington
My hands rested on the keys of the family piano, lingering instead of playing like I typically would. I drew my lower lip into my mouth, suckling the skin as I concentrated on the music pulsating through my head. Although my dream has always been to write the next great American novel, I could never quite escape the constant stream of music playing somewhere in the back of my head. I like to imagine my characters dancing to the classical music I often dreamed of and conversing over wine to the muted ballads that threatened to overtake my concentration in the worst possible moments. After watching my younger sister sneak beer from my parents' New Years party and receiving the pitying glances from their friends since I was alone, I decide to give into my desire to play out my frustrations.
Slamming my fingers onto the keys, I listened to the unpleasant cord with a surge of pleasure. Unlike in writing (for the most part), music frequently played by its own rules and what could be considered as unpleasant became pleasant in certain circumstances. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath before the music overcame my sense and I began to play the music without completely meaning to. My parents often encouraged me to write the music down, giving me blank sheets of music that they hoped I would fill — I doubted they realized how little I wanted to pursue a music career. Their support was often frustrating. The thought made my fingers slip into another loud cord and I flinched when I heard a door from the floor above me slam.
I didn't play again. I just waited to see who I had woken up. Even though I was twenty-two, my mother's scolding could still make me feel like a four year-old boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The subtle shift of the piano bench told me that it wasn't my parents but rather my seventeen year-old sister.
"Edward," Alice whined, her voice thick with sleep. "It's so early and I drank too much last night. Why are you playing so loudly?"
"You know, you could've avoided this if you hadn't stolen half of the beer last night for you and your little friends." My eyes opened to sneak a look at the dark circles under her eyes. When was the last time she'd slept?
She waved a dismissive hand.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the long strands slip between my fingers. "Are you having those nightmares again?"
"They aren't nightmares!" she hissed, her eyes flashing with a temper I hadn't expected to see since she looked so exhausted. "Nightmares don't come true, Edward." I watched in mild horror as her lower lip began to tremble.
"Damn, I'm sorry Alice. I didn't mean it that way."
Tears were beginning to prick her eyes and I knew I had to do something to stop them. I wrapped one of my arms around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into my side. Her tears wet my shirt and I felt guilty that I had done this to her. I was the only person she talked to about these… premonitions she had. She explained that it was easy to pretend that she was daydreaming when really she was looking into the future. Most of the time, her insights were benign but at night, the worst visions came. Although none of those had come true yet, we both knew it was a matter of time.
"Tell me about your party last night," I offered.
"Jasper came — he is Rosalie's half brother," she said hesitantly as though she was revealing a big secret.
"Who is Jasper?"
Her lips twitched, a smile tempting to curve onto her lips. "A boy."
"Just a boy?" I raised my eyebrow at her.
"Yes but I want…"
"To be his girl?"
Her cheeks turned pink and she nodded, her short black hair bouncing with the jerky movements.
"Does he know?" It was a loaded question and she knew it. I watched her contemplate how to answer that question properly, turning over the best way to answer the question.
"Not yet."
I nodded, secretly pleased that her secret remained between the two of us. Although everyone claimed to be free spirited and open minded, I knew that that was not the case. I didn't want to know what would happen to her if anyone else found out she could see the future of those closest to her. I could picture her in some lab being tested on like a dog and then visited by the most powerful men in the country who could pay a pretty penny to have their future made known. I could see the fire in her eyes dimming as her life lost its purpose, as her family disappeared from memory, as her hopes for a brighter future were gone completely. The government would do things to her that no human truly deserved. She would be a commodity — a valuable one — and I refused to let that happen.
A sharp pain at the front of my forehead brought me back to the present. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, her hand falling away from my face.
"Sure," I said hesitantly.
"My dreams have been centered around you lately."
"Not again." My groan echoed through the empty room.
"No, no! You want to hear this."
"I'm quite sure I don't."
"It's about a girl," she taunted as I pushed away from the piano to pace.
One of the first parts of our deal when I agreed to listen to her visions was that she never spoke about my future to me. I wanted my life to be a surprise, not a result of some concoction she came up with. I was probably one of the few people who didn't want to know what the world held for me and perhaps that is why I was best suited to be Alice's protector.
"Just," she began, her eyebrows drawing together. "Just go to the art gallery today on Main Street, the one only visitors actually set foot in. You won't regret it, I promise!"
My lips pursed. "What? You make it sound like I have a choice."
"Well, either way you'll meet this girl but I like the outcome better if you meet her today."
"So… it's inevitable? I have no choice?"
"There is always a choice," she said exasperated. "But your choices will always lead you back to her."
"Can I at least have a name?" I whined, my lips pulled into a pout. I was breaking my one rule in the hopes that I could avoid meeting this girl at all costs. However, if it was as inevitable as Alice made it sound, I could at least have a leg up on the situation. What's the point of a psychic if they didn't tell you everything?
Her lips quirked into a smile, knowing my curiosity would most likely be my downfall. "Bella Swan."
_—_—_—_
I was pacing out in front of the art gallery. It assuredly looked weird to anyone on Main Street. I couldn't decide if I would follow Alice's counsel or go hide in my car once more in the hopes of avoiding the potential of meeting this mysterious woman from my future. I glanced into the windows of the gallery and noticed that the two women standing inside were staring at me. Shit, I probably looked like an idiot to them. Now I had to go inside and explain myself just so I don't destroy any chance at whatever was supposed to happen with one of the girls inside.
I allowed myself one more moment of hesitation before I tugged open the door, a bell dinging to announce my entrance even though I knew I had everyone's attention. Well, almost everyone's. A brunette appeared from the back room, her brown hair in a disarray, and her clothes slightly askew. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, my mouth suddenly going dry. Vaguely I could hear the giggles of the two women standing at the counter in the gallery, their whispers filling the room. The brunette's face shifted from the floor to examine why the other two were so giddy. Her brown eyes, snapping with frustration, met mine and suddenly an easy grin filled her face. It took my breath away.
"Tanya, Victoria," she said, her voice soft and husky. "Why don't you make yourselves useful and start dusting the art pieces for our first customer?" Her eyes moved from mine to challenge the two behind the counter. Clearly, she didn't approve of her employees gawking at customers. Released from her gaze, I swallowed and watched the blond and the redhead scurry around as though she had lit a fire under their asses.
I glanced back to where the brunette had been standing and noticed she had disappeared, disappointment coursing through my veins. A throat cleared behind me and I whirled around to see her standing there, a tentative smile on her face. "So, what can I help you with?"
"Um… I don't know."
Her eyebrow quirked at my statement. "You don't know…"
"My sister sent me," I rushed out, sounding more like an idiot than I probably already looked like. "My name is Edward."
She laughed. "Well, Edward, my name's Bella and my momma owns this place so you could say I'm the best qualified to help you."
Bella. She was Bella. Of course she was. Alice had been so certain that she was everything I didn't know I was looking for and she was right. I had always imagined settling down with some accomplished young woman who was ready to be a mother, have two kids, and a white picket fence. Yet now, all I could see was the girl with brown eyes and brown hair and a spirit that seemed as wild as a mustang. From the moment I met her eyes, I knew I was in trouble and now I knew, I couldn't escape it. Damn Alice and her predictions — this is why I never asked her about my future and why I begged her to never tell.
"So, who are you looking to buy for?" she asked, her eyes flickering towards my lips and then meeting my eyes once more. "Mother, sister… wife, girlfriend?" I noted the way her eyes flickered towards my ring finger and the pleased smile she had on her face when she discovered I wasn't wearing a ring.
"I don't have… a girlfriend," I offered hesitantly. "I was just looking to buy a piece for myself."
She nodded as though she wasn't the least bit interested in my answer. "Alright." I shifted uneasily under her gaze until she finally met my eyes once more. "I think I have the perfect painting for you but it's not out on display yet." With a sly glance around, she turned and began walking towards the back room I had watched her come out from. She hooked her finger in my direction and I followed obediently like the lost puppy I was beginning to feel like in her presence.
We slipped passed the door and I glanced around, taking in the covered canvases that lined the walls just waiting for their chance to be on display. "Who paints these?"
She glanced over her shoulder at me, a happy smile on her face. "My mom and I do most of the paintings. Tanya and Victoria take the photographs. Occasionally sculptors bring in their work to sell."
"Which ones," I said, motioning around the large room, "are yours?"
Walking around, I heard a slight rip from something under my feet. I glanced down and noticed a sketchbook, my eyes widening at the image that had been torn by my clumsy movements. It was Bella and she was, well, nude. A sketchbook sat on her lap, covering the most intimate place on her body. I felt myself grow hard at the image, unable to control the natural reaction to a naked woman. "Um," I coughed, attempting to hide the gruffness my growing lust had caused. "I'm sorry." I stepped back so she could analyze the damage and flinched when I heard her laugh.
"Oh, it's alright. I'm pretty sure I can tape that together or redo it tomorrow." Her tone said that it was no big deal but her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.
"I don't mean to invade your privacy," I whispered.
"If I meant for it to be private, I probably wouldn't have left it out in the open."
Now, it was my turn to blush. "Yeah, well, sorry anyway."
"Um… did you like it?" Her face betrayed the awkwardness that she felt.
My eyebrows drew together in contemplation. "It was very well done?"
Her head tilted to the side as she looked at me. "Are you asking me if it was well done?"
"No, of course not," I replied, flustered. "This couldn't be going any worse."
"I doubt that's true," she laughed.
We stood there, awkward but unable to look away from each other. I forgot what we had come in the back room to do. "So, Bella," I began before stopping the words that I was about to say.
"So, Edward." Her eyes encouraged me to finish what I was going to say.
"Would you be willing to, maybe, go grab ice cream with me later?" It sounded so juvenile when I finally said it and I shifted awkwardly at the position I had placed myself in.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Maybe."
I glanced up at her and a half smile came to my face. "Maybe."
_—_—_—_
By the time I left the art gallery, I had two paintings under my arm and a lighter wallet than when I walked in. Our conversation became a lot less awkward as we tossed out information about ourselves. Bella was twenty-one, an only child from an unhappy marriage, she got her artistic ability from her mom, and she wanted to become a renowned artist although she didn't want it to be because of her paintings. I opened the passenger door to the Impala, tossing the painting in before I leaned against the metal door. I sighed, feeling more drained than I had in years. I never felt awkward around girls, in fact, my prowess tended to be why I never had a girlfriend. But I finally found my weak link and it was Bella, the one girl I actually desperately wanted to impress.
I drove home slowly, not really feeling the need to speed through the streets like I had before. The curving roads and lack of cars was comforting. I could at least trust something to still be the same even though my world felt like it had been turned on its axis. I'd met her and I had no idea what that meant. I'd finally met her and suddenly nothing made sense.
Everyone says that when you meet your true love or soul mate, everything clicks into place as though the one thing you'd been missing suddenly made it all perfect. However, I found it to be quite the opposite. Everything made sense before I met Bella Swan. I had a plan and I knew what I wanted to do with my life. Yet, the moment I met her eyes, I knew that none of this mattered anymore. None of my previous plans made sense anymore. Everything that had been in place was now shattered.
I was devastated to realize that I would give up everything for her.
Alice was sitting on the front porch when I pulled up, her head in her hands. I could tell right away that our parents had found out about the beer. They would have given her a single beer if she had asked, since it was New Years and they weren't as strict as some parents, but her blatant disregard for their rules probably pushed them over the edge. I turned my car off and took a deep before disembarking from the car. The moment my car door slammed, Alice bolted from the front steps and threw herself into my arms.
I could feel her tears sliding down my neck as she clutched me tightly. I could feel her body tremble with tears and I suddenly realized that this was far more than a simple argument over beer. My stomach clenched. "Allie-cat, what happened?" I asked, which only seemed to make her sobs worse. Shit. Helplessly, I glanced at the windows of the house and noticed our mom, Esme, watching the exchange. I could see that she had been crying but over what, I wasn't sure.
Whatever had happened while I was gone had been something terrible and I wasn't here.
"Ed-d-dward-d-d," she stammered through her tears, her voice trembling over the 'd'.
"What's wrong?"
"They found my journal," she mumbled, her words broken.
"What journal?" I asked dumbly, my eyes narrowing slightly as I tried to recall why that sounded familiar. Suddenly it all clicked. "Fuck!"
"Yeah," she breathed, her tears subsiding and her breathing settling down.
"Did they say anything?"
"Dad wants to send me away to a doctor who he thinks can help. Mom thinks that I must be on drugs. Either way, they don't believe me. Why would they ever believe me?"
"They can't just send you away. I won't let them," I hissed.
"I don't think they'll let you have a say."
"Do you think I actually care?" I gently set her down on her feet and gently held her face in my hands. I scanned her eyes for any signs of increased distress and just saw muted terror, fear that she should never have to face on her own. My thumbs brushed away her remaining tears before I released her completely. "I bought you a painting," I said offhandedly, trying to distract her from the oncoming storm that I was going to cause.
"You went?" she replied excitedly, her eyes still dull from the fight with our parents. "What was she like?"
"She was… She was everything."
A smile graced her face. "I knew she would be."
Bumping her hip with mine, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go see what we can do about those parents of ours."
"I wish you wouldn't."
"I refuse to let them send you away. I will convince them."
She stopped, which made me stumble slightly. "I love you, no matter what."
"I'm not going to make ice cream tonight, am I?"
"No, you aren't." She gave me a sad smile before allowing me to pull her into the house.
The first person I saw was our dad, Carlisle, who was downing a beer from his seat on the couch. I was surprised that he wasn't at the hospital this morning since he was one of the two doctors employed in this little town. I could see right away that this wasn't going to be a pleasant experience for anyone. From behind me, I heard Esme shuffle into the room and watched her sit down next to him. I guided Alice onto the couch opposite of theirs, noting that the journal was still out and open.
"I would like to know what on earth happened while I was away for a couple of hours," I demanded, my voice far more commanding than my parents ever expected. I watched Carlisle flinch, perhaps realizing that this was a silent 'fuck you' to him.
"Edward," Esme warned, her tone soft but her underlying message was swift. Tread carefully.
"No, mom, I demand to have answers."
"Your sister is clearly strung out on drugs and having hallucinations," Carlisle began, his voice fierce. "She needs medical help that we cannot provide."
"Oh, fuck you," I growled. "Did you even ask her about it or did you just assume that you knew everything? Did you care about her feelings?" Although my words didn't seem to affect Carlisle, I watched Esme flinch with each dagger thrown her way.
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me," he replied, his finger pointed in my face. "As long as you live in my house, under my roof, I control what is and isn't acceptable."
My lips curled in disgust. God complex, much? "Dad, I am begging you to look at Alice and tell me that you really think she is a drug addict." I watched his eyes flicker towards my trembling sister and I grew more frustrated. "No, really look at her. You took us in when we had no one else. You have raised us and loved us. Do you think that we would ever do anything to break that trust you have in us?"
I could see that he was struggling with his emotions, struggling to maintain his anger. "Edward," he whispered and when I met his eyes, I could see that they were filled with tears.
"Alice has been suffering from nightmares for years and her dreams fixate on horrific things with very detailed imagery, so I told her to write it down. It helps ease her fears," I stated, my voice calm once more. "What makes me angry is the fact that you didn't talk to me about it — you didn't bother to ask me. You just assumed that her realistic renditions of events and her fears about the nightmares leaking into her waking life were associated with drugs. That upsets me beyond imagining."
I could hear Esme crying but I couldn't look at her, at least not yet. I was focused on Carlisle, the man who held all of the power and didn't realize it yet. With a word he could ruin this family and destroy our relationship. I would never forgive him if he sent Alice away.
He moved his gaze away from mine. "Alice, I am so sorry," he whispered brokenly before breaking down. "So sorry." He held his arms out for her and I watched with a small smile as he pulled her into his arms. They held each other as they cried, so close to losing everything.
What would have happened if I was gone to school when this happened? Would I have come back to discover that Alice had been sent away? Sometimes I wondered if it was a blessing or a burden to know the future and the possibilities that were inevitable. In some ways, I wish I knew the answers about what would have happened. In other ways, I was grateful that I would never have to know. From what Alice had told me, the amount of possibilities and outcomes were disturbing. It gave her headaches. She definitely handled it a lot better than I could.
Eventually the tears subsided and I tried hard not to show how grateful I was that it was over. Maybe, I could make it to ice cream. Maybe, I wouldn't have to abandon Bella. I had no way to call her or contact her. I felt guilty for even attempting to make a plan to see her tonight without getting her number. I was an idiot and she was going to hate me.
This just seemed to go from bad to worse.
Esme held her hand out to me from across the divide. "Edward," she whispered. "Come here."
I joined them on the couch and the moment that her head came to rest on my shoulder, I knew. No ice cream tonight. "What book should we read tonight?" Carlisle asked to Alice, his voice was filled with guilt and I knew that my words had hit harder than I could ever imagine.
My heart ached because I desperately wanted to be in two places at once. I knew I needed to be with Alice because leaving her alone with them would bring up the opportunity for more questions. But I wanted so badly to be across town on Main Street with a beautiful brown-eyed girl that I knew would hate me tomorrow when I didn't show up. My priority had always been Alice and my family. Now, I could feel those changing and I hated it. I never had to doubt my priorities — I never had to question anything at all. I just wanted everything all at once but even Alice knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
Why did she tell me to go today when she knew this was going to happen? Suddenly it hit me and I silently groaned. What did Alice have up her sleeve?
_—_—_—_
I arrived at the art gallery right after it opened. No one was out on the floor so I just stood awkwardly by the door, hoping that Bella would appear out of the back room like she had yesterday. My hand raked through my hair, tugging on the wayward strands already. I shifted anxiously from foot to foot like a fifteen year-old kid taking a girl to his first prom. I bet she back there having a laugh at my expense, I thought irritably.
Finally, after what felt like forever but was actually five minutes, a woman appeared from the room. She was a brunette like Bella, her hair cut into a bob, and her pale skin showed the signs of age. This had to be Bella's mother. I analyzed her comments about her mother, hoping to pull a name from it but I came up with nothing. Damn. Clearing my throat, I watched in surprise as the woman jumped out of her skin and I realized she probably didn't hear the bell.
"Sorry, ma'am. I was just wondering if Bella was in today."
She turned and peered at me over the glasses that rested on the end of her nose. I shifted under her intense stare. "You must be the young man who left my daughter waiting all night."
"I can explain that," I said, my cheeks becoming warm at the accusation in her tone.
"I sure hope so but I'm afraid coming here won't be much help. Today's her day off."
"Oh."
"If you have a message for her though, I can pass it on."
"Um, alright, yeah. Just tell her that my little sister got into some trouble yesterday when I got home and I couldn't leave her when she needed me. Also, tell her I'll be back by tomorrow to see if she'd be willing to give me a second chance."
A soft smile crossed her mom's face. "I can tell her that. Do you want to write a number down that she can call after I pass on your message?"
"Of course, why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you two are too caught up in your own heads to think of practical things."
Feeling thoroughly chastised, I walked over to the counter and grabbed a piece of paper to scribble my family's number down. I met her eyes once more and I gave a slight nod in acknowledgement before scurrying out the door, my cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. After I made it to my car, I leaned up against the side and rubbed my palms against my face roughly. This wasn't exactly how I planned my meeting with her mother would happen.
Now, all I could do was hope she would call me or at the very least be at the gallery tomorrow.
_—_—_—_
A loud bang on the bathroom door let me know that I had been in there for too long. I took one last glance at my reflection, uncertain that I would ever be completely happy with how I looked. I wasn't typically critical of my appearance but today was going to be important — today was going to be the start of a wonderful adventure and I wanted to look my best. My hair was in a constant disarray and no matter how long I tried to tame it into a presentable hairdo. Alice always told me it was hopeless, perhaps it was time I trusted the psychic.
Things have calmed down around the house since the blowup that happened yesterday. Everyone seemed to be treading carefully around me as if a single misstep would cause another outburst. The shouting match was worse for us because I hardly ever raised my voice and my love for my family only furthered my resolve never to hurt any of them. However, Carlisle had gone too far yesterday and I knew that no amount of sweet talking would make the situation go away. We would have been stuck in limbo, a bitter silence that would only make everything worse. I felt guilty that I had to yell but my first priority was Alice and her happiness.
Brushing passed Alice, I noticed that the light in her eyes was no longer as dim as it had been yesterday. Clearly, she had no nightmares last night. That was a comforting thought and a first in a very long time. I watched her silently as she shut the door before trotting to my bedroom. In the distance I heard the phone ring but I ignored it, figuring that it was probably for Esme and I had to hurry if I wanted to make it to the gallery by the time it opened. As I did up my pants, I listened to Esme chattering with whomever was on the phone and I felt a pang of disappointment when I realized that it wasn't Bella. I hope she at least got my message.
After I was completely dressed, I made my way downstairs to see Esme stirring her coffee while resting against the counter. I glanced over to see her watching me with a bemused expression. "I just got off the phone," she began and I hummed with feigned interest. "It was a girl named Bella, said you left a painting at the art gallery. She asked that you come and pick it up as soon as possible."
Bella's name made my heart skip a beat but my brow furrowed at the mention of the painting. I had brought home the two paintings that I purchased and I know with an intense certainty that I did not buy another one. The sensation of pleasure shot through me at the prospect of her coming up with an inane excuse to see me once more.
"Really? Huh. I guess I'll need to head over and see about the mixup."
"Yes, I suppose you will. However, I was surprised to hear about your sudden interest in art."
My cheeks warmed. "It's a… recent development."
"Clearly."
"Well, I'm just going to go," I said, taking several hesitant steps backwards without breaking eye contact with Esme. Eventually I ran out of the house in an attempt to escape her intense gaze, fearing she would realize how much I was starting to care about this girl. I could hardly bear having her stare at me in a manner that stripped me bare and I didn't particularly look forward to the questions I knew were coming sooner or later. I tossed open the door to my Impala and slid inside, feeling an intense amount of relief at no longer being under the scrutiny of Esme or Alice. Luckily Carlisle didn't know about Bella yet, or I would never hear the end of this.
I drive above the speed limit through the empty roads, fully aware that the two cops in town were at the diner instead of pulling over speeding cars. Part of the appeal of such a small town was that it was hard to actually get into trouble because everyone knew everyone. Except I had never met Bella Swan before and it was the first time I met someone in this small town that I hadn't known since I was a kid. Perhaps, that was part of her appeal.
I parked along the sidewalk in front of the art gallery — a first since I tended to park down the road a short distance. Before I was embarrassed for Bella to see me but since she called this morning, I figured she was expecting me and I didn't want to keep her waiting.
As the bell rang to signal my entry, I watched the two girls Tanya and Victoria look up from their work. I really needed to figure out which was which. The blond glanced over her shoulder towards the back room before returning her gaze to mine, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge. Apparently Bella was back there and they weren't going to tell her I was here. Damn. With a sigh, I shuffled towards the back room and slipped passed the closed door.
A quick glance around alerted me to Bella's presence as she leaned over to examine a specific picture. "Hello," I whispered, a smile spreading across my face.
She whirled around, her hand pressed to her heart. "You scared me!"
"I'm sorry."
"No, you aren't."
"You're right. I'm not."
"I didn't expect you to get here so soon."
"I'm sorry — I can wait outside if you want."
"No," she stated, her eyes flickering towards the door before slowly sauntering up to me. "I think you owe me an explanation before you go disappearing again."
"I suppose you are right."
"We both know I am. If you want to buy me ice cream, I expect the entire story behind why you abandoned me two days ago."
The tips of my ears grew hot. "My sister has always had these intense nightmares and over the past few weeks, they started leaking into her daydreams. In an attempt to ease the distress, I told her to start writing them down. Our parents found them while I was here at the gallery and assumed that she was having hallucinations from taking drugs, which she would never do. They immediately jumped to the worst case scenario and told her that she was going to go away to get better in a place where they would understand her. I couldn't let that happen and Alice needed me so I had to stay home to make sure they didn't do anything rash. I couldn't let them send her away." I was rambling, I could tell, and I shot her an apologetic look once I closed my mouth.
Her eyes softened and she gave me a gentle smile. "It's okay, I understand. I really wasn't that mad about it. After all, I did only say maybe."
"Yeah but we both knew what maybe meant."
"Your family is important to you," she whispered, her hand coming up to rest against my cheek. "I can't begrudge you that."
"Thanks," I whispered, leaning into her touch almost immediately.
"So, about that ice cream."
"Yeah, about that," I teased before I remembered something I had wanted to ask her. "My mom said you had a painting for me."
Her cheeks turned red. "I do."
"Can I see it?"
She wrung her hands before finally turning away from me. I watched her shuffle through the canvases before selecting the one she was looking for. "Now, it's not finished so don't judge just yet," she said before handing me the painting.
I instantly became hard, my pants tightening uncomfortably. It was the nude sketch I had accidentally stepped on the first time I came in here. The image was practically identically with the exception of the colors she had added to the painting. If this was the unfinished painting, I was a little nervous to see what my physical response would be to the actual painting.
"Oh, um… I don't know quite where I would put that."
"Hopefully somewhere special," she whispered, closing the distance once more.
"I'm pretty sure my mom wouldn't appreciate a nude painting on her walls."
"Maybe you'll have to convince her," she breathed, looking at me from underneath her eyelashes.
I sucked in a deep breath, my heart pounding slightly. "Maybe I will." My hand came up to brush her cheek and a warmth spread through my body at the touch. I completely forgot what we had been planning to do. All I wanted to do was stay like this forever but a door opened to the back room and we lurched away from each other. I shoved the painting behind me, my cheeks red with embarrassment.
The redhead glanced between the two of us. "Tanya was wondering if she could take a smoke break since you haven't left yet."
"Sure," she said with a wave of her hand. The door closed behind the girl I now knew was Victoria. Clearing her throat, she shifted awkwardly before drawing her lip between her teeth. "I'm glad you like the painting."
"I'm pretty sure I would like anything you created," I blurted out before letting out a nervous laugh.
She laughed, although hers was far more carefree than mine was. "I'll hold you to that. Now, since we can't get ice cream yet, want to help me sort through these paintings and photographs? It's time we rotate the images."
"I'd be glad to," I responded, silently adding that there was no place I would rather be. Without a second thought, I knelt next to her and watched as she began to select what she felt was worthy of presentation. It didn't take me long to realize her expectations and pick out my favorites from the previously covered images.
Later, I realized that we had spent hours in that back room, not talking. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so at peace and I was silently grateful that it had been with my beautiful brown-eyed girl.
A/N:
I decided to allow the idea of Alice being psychic before turning into a vampire flourish in this story. She isn't currently the same excited girl we typically read about and that largely has to do with her visions and her self-medicating to ease the pain.
Edward and Alice's story is pretty convoluted and I will eventually reveal it in later chapters so you will just have to be patient with me. I feel the need to add that this is a HEA story, even though much like life, it doesn't happen right away. Next chapter will be in 2005 and my plan is to rotate between the present and past for this story.
If you have an questions, feel free to PM me! Thank you so much for the reviews — they mean the world to me.