Of Curses and Cures
Chapter Six
December 6th, 2008
He comes to the end of a three day shift, and he literally aches with the need to see Bella. It is well after midnight when he arrives outside her duplex. He wonders if he should knock on the door or enter through the window as always.
He listens for her breathing, and hears her in her room, her breaths even and steady in sleep. The anticipation to see her is now almost painful—the most pain he's felt in decades. He's through her window and into her room in less time than ever. He enters the dark room is so overwhelmed by the beauty of her scent that he nearly misses her gasp.
"Edward?"
Her heart beats furiously and he freezes. His mind reels and his body struggles to find his next move. She had been breathing so regularly that he had been sure she was asleep. He moves back to the window, furious with his mistake. This was the final straw—he'll have to leave town now. It's not exactly normal behavior to vault through a girl's window in the middle of the night. Perhaps it is for the best anyway.
He considers leaving through her door, but the window would be much easier. And she'd already seen his inhuman movement once, what's one more time?
His hand grasps the window pane as he prepares to duck through.
"Wait." She whispers, almost inaudible, but he hears her.
His body reacts without permission, and turns to her.
"You don't have to go."
"I should." He insists.
She smiles, "What I meant to say was… don't go."
He hesitates for a moment, before nodding. He can't seem to deny her anything. He stays near the window just in case, but she gestures for him to come closer.
"This feels a little backwards." He sighs, "Shouldn't you be furious or terrified and demanding that I leave?"
"Do I have a reason to be terrified?"
He answers her immediately and without any doubt, "Absolutely."
She sits up in bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, her face contemplative. "Well… then let's just agree to ignore the things we should be doing and do what we want."
He knows what he wants. He wants her. But he also knows that he has no right to want her.
"I've missed you." Her tone is quiet and it comes out like a question.
She knows that she's spent the last three days glancing to bronze-haired strangers on street corners, only to notice that their hair was really more of a normal brown. She missed him terribly, but she isn't sure if it was right to voice it. She already feels far more into their—relationship… can she even call it that?—than he, and sometimes she catches an angry look on his face whenever she admits just how truly obsessed she is. But he doesn't seem angry now, only relieved.
"And seeing as how you couldn't wait till morning and decided to sneak into my room in the middle of the night… I'm guessing you missed me too."
He chuckles, "Very much so."
Bewildered by her calm exterior, he can't help but wait for her to run from the room screaming at any moment. Isn't that what normal people do when someone breaks into their home? But then again, she's never been exactly normal.
She gestures him forward once again, and this time he complies. She slides over in her bed, patting the space beside her.
He sits carefully, his body rigid as though he were a statue upon a pedestal.
Silence and half a dozen emotions fill the void between him, and she wants nothing more than to touch him, but holds back. She feels almost as though she needs permission.
"So…" The palpitations of her heart are wild and all over the place, and he waits for the inevitable questions to come pouring from her mouth.
"What are we?" She asks with a nervous smile. "I mean, we've been on a date… or at least I thought it was a date. And… I like you. And I hope that you like me. I mean, surely you wouldn't be sneaking into my room if you didn't want to see me. And one would think if you went through so much trouble to see me, you wouldn't exactly hate me, which would mostly imply that—"
He silences her by placing a finger over her lips.
"Implying… that I like you too." He finishes for her.
She smiles against his finger, and he forgets how to breathe, even though he's been doing it for more than a century. He traces his finger from her lips across the high plane of her cheek, and her eyes flutter closed.
He draws his finger along the line of her jaw, marveling at the warmth.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks.
She blushes, but answers, "I'm trying to decide if you're real."
He cups her cheek with her hand, and he loves that she leans into his touch.
"And what have you decided?"
Her eyes open and she seems surprised at how close he is, but neither moves away.
"I hope that you're real." There is a longing in her voice that almost makes his cautious side rear up again… almost. "But I'll pretend if I have to."
He sighs, wishing this were only as simple as real and make-believe. The quiet envelops them for a few minutes, and he can't bear to pull his hand away from her warmth, so he doesn't.
"Something's been bothering me." He begins. "Might I ask you a question?"
She looks hesitant, but nods, "Only if I can have one question in return."
He stiffens, "I can't promise that I'll be able to answer, but I'll try."
She smiles, lifting her chin up towards him, prepared for his question.
"If you don't wish to talk about this, I understand. But… that day on the ferry… I watched you climb onto that rail, and I just can't help but wonder what you were thinking."
He is surprised when she laughs.
"It's not anything like you're thinking. It was all rather silly, actually."
She blushes and his interest grows even further.
"Well… you see, I was… oh, this is embarrassing. The wind, it was like…" She pauses, searching for the right word and irritation bubbles up inside of him. At seeing the look upon his face, she blurts out her answer quickly.
"The wind was cold and strong, and this may sound stupid, but it reminded me of you."
His jaw drops, this revelation catching him completely off-guard.
"That's why I was so surprised to see you. I thought you were a ghost, or I'd finally gone crazy. " She laughs again.
"So you mean to say, you did something incredibly dangerous and stupid, I might add, because it reminded you of me?" There is an edge of anger in his voice, and she watches him pinch the bridge of his nose.
She runs a hand across the worried crease in his forehead, his skin like frozen rock beneath her fingertips.
"Even when I'm not around you, I still manage to put you in danger." His eyes are still squeezed shut, but some of his frustration ebbs away with her touch.
"Is it time for my question now?" She asks.
Edward's body tightens involuntarily, preparing for the inevitable. There are a thousand questions she could ask him, any one of which would reveal his secret. But the words that spill from her mouth are the last ones he would have expected.
"What does your house in Forks look like?"
There is a peculiar smile on her face, but slightly relieved, he answers, "Well, it's a large, two story white house pretty far out of town, back into the forest. It's very open and the entire back wall has been replaced with a glass panel so that you can see the creek that flows out behind the house into the forest. "
She nods, appearing satisfied, before asking another question, "Ánd what is it that keeps you from telling me your secret? Do you not trust me?"
"What?" He asks. "No, of course I trust you, Bella." He is surprised by how very truthful his answer is.
"Then what is it? I mean, I would understand if you just weren't interested in sharing yourself with me."
He cuts her off abruptly, "That's not it at all Bella."
He considers saying that she's already used her one question—bizarre as that one question was—but decides to step out on a limb.
"It's not that I don't want to share things with you, Bella. It's more that I'm terrified of scaring you off."
She grins widely, and for what seems like the millionth time, he wishes her were privy to her thoughts.
"Is that all? That's nothing to worry about."
His jaw drops in shock—that seems to be happening a lot lately.
"So," she smiles, "If you knew without any doubt that I couldn't be scared off, would you share your secret with me then?"
He thinks for a moment, earnestly considering her question. Is that the only reason he hasn't told her yet? He trusts her, he has to. She's seen plenty that could damage him so far, but she's made no move to do so. Edward studies her, trying to decide if she's serious.
He sighs, "I'd say that something would be very wrong if you weren't afraid."
She looks slightly offended. "Maybe I'm just well suited to danger."
"If you mean attracting it, then yes." He grins crookedly, and it takes her a moment to respond.
"I guess that's fair. " her eyes are calculating, almost guarded. "I do have a habit of attracting dangerous things… dangerous creatures."
Her voice is quiet, and for an instant he thinks he might have imagined her last words, but when his head snaps up to meet her anxious gaze, her face half-hidden behind the curtain of her hair, he's certain that he heard correctly. He has half a mind to ignore the comment completely and flee the room. He has no idea idea how to reply so he asks a different question.
"Why did you ask about our home in Forks?" He's staring at the wall, his tone searching, desperate. She wonders if she has pushed him too far. But when he looks at her again, his eyes are intense with a glimmer of hopefulness.
"I've been there." She answers simply. "It was before you moved of course."
The surprise is evident on his face. Why would she have been there? He knew for certain that she'd not been to visit a previous owner because they'd owned that house for decades, since the last time that he, Carlisle, and Esme lived in Forks.
She continues, "It all started as a silly game really. My best friend actually told me about the place… told me stories about some… former owners."
His eyes are wide and he can't seem to wrap his mind around what she is saying.
"It was a beautiful home. It was abandoned, so it looked almost ghostly. My friends, they were an unusual bunch. Much more coordinated than me," she laughed. "They had quite a time of messing around trying to scare me. You see, like I said, they'd told me stories about the home's previous occupants… stories that were meant to scare me."
She chances a look up at him and his fists are clenched tight, knuckles whiter than marble.
"And those storis did scare me once upon a time, but after that summer—things changed. My friends changed. And I learned that the things I heard in those stories, weren't necessarily things I had to fear."
He interrupts—his voice hard. "What do you mean?"
"Like I said, I have a tendency to attract things that could be dangerous."
She knows she's skirting around the issue and decides to face it head on.
"My best friend's name was Jake. He lives down at La Push, and his dad is one of the Quileute Elders. And like I said, that summer my friends went through some changes—changes that we'd only heard of in stories—the same types of stories that led me to what would become your house." She pauses for a moment, "What already was your house."
He feels something crumbled inside of him, and he can't decide whether the sensation is devastating or liberating.
So she knew. There was no more pretending or hiding. He would have to make a choice—stay or leave. It sounded so simple in theory, but with every new resolution came more complexities.
"So, you aren't afraid of me then?" he remains guarded.
"Like I said, I have a bit of a history with dangerous creatures."
She watches as the full force of her words hit him, all her clues finally falling into place. An indescribable look crosses his face, and she thinks, for the first time, that she can see a glimpse of the part of him he's been hiding.
"Werewolves?" he hisses.
She is taken aback by his sudden forcefulness, but nods nonetheless.
He wants to ask if she's insane. Does she have any idea how dangerous werewolves can be? And it sounded as though these were even young werewolves, which was much worse. He wants to hold her, caging his arms around her to keep everything dangerous away, but he knows that's impossible, not unless he leaves too.
Instead, he smiles grimly, "Bella Swan, you are by far the most utterly absurd and completely perplexing human I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
She laughs, but looks relieved at the resolved tension.
"So, you're not angry with me?"
"Angry?" He questions, puzzled. "Why would I have any reason to be angry? Bella, you've been accepting and wonderful and far too kind."
"It's just… you tried so hard to keep your secret. I thought maybe you would be upset that I knew."
"Not angry, Bella, never angry." He smiles, "It's actually quite a relief, more so than I ever could have thought. I just can't believe you've known all this time."
She stops him, "Well, I haven't known the entire time. After the ferry, I had some suspicions. It had been so long since that summer in Forks and the name Cullen evaded my memory for a while. But after the movie, when you actually mentioned Forks, I was almost certain. And… I, well, I called Jake to check."
"Your werewolf friend?" He asks gruffly.
She nods again.
He sighs, both relieved and withdrawn. At least now, she would believe his feelings were real, but respect his ultimate decision.
"I guess I should be leaving, then."
"Wait—what?" Her small hands close around his forearm, and he reels at the sensation.
"Bella, now that you know what I am. You know why I have to leave.
He has to turn away at the look of disappointment on her face.
"So, it's too hard to be around me, is that it? I'm sorry, I should have known—"
"Bella." He cuts her off. "It's not that. I mean, yes, it is hard to be around you. You have no idea how wonderful you smell."
She scrunches up your nose, "So you're afraid you might bite me?"
"What?" He shouts, "No! Never! Bella, I'd rather die than harm you."
"Then I don't understand. What's the problem?"
He sighs in exasperation, "Perhaps, I spoke too soon. You do know what I am, you know that I'm a vampire?" It's strange how easily the confession comes now. "You know that every moment you spend with me is incredibly dangerous."
"Of course I know. But you said that you wouldn't harm me, I trust you."
Frustrated, he pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's not just the blood thing, Bella. There are other things, like my strength. I could mean to grab your hand and end up crushing every bone in it. Was the movie we watched earlier in the week not an ample demonstration of my danger to you."
She laughs, knowing that the vampires in the movie were entirely different from the real vampire in front of her.
He scowls playfully, "Choosing a vampire film, how clever of you."
She grins, "That wasn't on purpose. It was completely a coincidence. But I must confess that I did lie to you that night."
He raises an eyebrow in question.
"I told you I had a thing for vampires, when in truth," she whispers, lacing her fingers with his, "it's really only one vampire in particular."
He looks down at their hands, and his breath hitches.
"I'm not good for you." He repeats.
"Let me be the judge of that."
And it's tempting to do just that. So tempting, in fact, that he finds himself nodding without resistance.
A yawn forces itself from her mouth, and she blushes. He chuckles and scoops her up quickly. She squeals as he pulls back her covers and dumps her unceremoniously on the bed.
"You should sleep now, my Bella."
It rolls off his tongue smoothly, and he can't stop the surge of pride at being able to call her his own. He'd never known himself to be the possessive type.
"And you'll stay?"
Her eyelids are already drooping and he smiles despite his reservations.
"If you wish it, Isabella Swan."
She smiles, but doesn't open her eyes.
"Granting wishes now, are we?"
"Only for you."
Her eyes open and she grins hopefully. "Then I wish you'd stay. And, I don't just mean tonight. I understand if you can't do that, but…"
He sits down on her bed next to her in one fluid motion, shushing her.
"Bella, I'm not even sure that leaving is possible for me at this point. You are too alluring for your own good."
She blushes deeply, and he hesitates a moment before sweeping his knuckles across the curve of her cheek.
"I don't know about that," she chuckles, "but I'm thankful that anything that keeps you here." She blushes anew, her expression suddenly bold, "You are my life now."
Something collapses in him and he suddenly knows without question that there is no going back from here. And he finds himself oddly delighted at that realization.
"And you my Isabella, are my entire existence."
A large grin lights on her face, and for a moment he envisions himself leaning forward and capturing those upturned lips with his own, but she yawns and it snaps him from his trance. He watches her as she slips into sleep, feeling wonderfully as though he is about to embark on the beginning of something miraculous—the beginning of an entirely new life.
A/N: I know that it's been a while, and I apologize. I spoiled you all with those quick updates! I've had this chapter written for a while, but I had several papers due for school, and never got a chance to type it. Most of the next chapter is written, too. And I will try and get it to you this week.
Until Later,
SiriuslyPadfoot'sGal