A/N: Wow! Ninety Reviews for last chapter! And it was such a short chapter! I'm so overwhelmed! You guys are wonderful! I'm sorry for the wait. But I'm afraid things aren't going to get much better. I'm 90% focused on writing my original novel right now, and that's not going to change. But I do hope you'll all forgive me, and stick around for the updates when they come!
Now… as some of you have probably noticed, this fic has now officially been bumped up to an M-rating. By and large, the majority voted for M, and I thought it necessary myself. There were a handful of people who adamantly requested that the fic remain rated T—and to those people, I truly apologize. I wrestled over the right way to handle this—to separate the M sections into a separate story, or have them be individual chapters that can be skipped—but none of those worked for me. Because I'm not going to be writing smut scenes just for the heck of it. This fic is primarily focused on the development of their relationship, and the physical side of their love is not only unavoidable, but it's vital to the plot.
I can promise that the scenes will be handled very tastefully—focused more on the passion of their love than the mechanics of sex. Put more simply, the scenes will not be explicit, but I'm not going to gloss over them either.
To those of you who will decide not to continue reading this story—my deepest apologies. I will miss your feedback, and I'm sorry I couldn't find a better option.
Now that I'm done with that novel of an explanation—Don't own Twilight! On to the chapter!
Chapter Twenty-Four
January 1st, 2009
8:00 A.M.
He closes his eyes and listens to the slow sizzle of the bacon. He holds his hand a few inches over the burner, feeling the warmth. He used to do this a lot. He was never sure whether it had been a fascination with the warmth or with fire—with that which he couldn't have or with that which could destroy him. It's so different than the warmth that Bella brings him. He feels the heat of the flame merely on the surface, but Bella's warmth infiltrates his very being, fills him to the core.
"Edward!" Her voice is panicked, and he can hear the pounding of her heart like she's right beside him. He nearly knocks over the bacon in his rush to get to her.
"I'm here. Bella, I'm here." His voice is low and soothing, as slides into bed beside her.
Her breath is unsteady, and she hiccups into his chest.
"You weren't here. I thought it wasn't real."
He tilts her chin up towards him, and kisses the tip of her nose.
"Thought what wasn't real?" He asks.
She blushes, but doesn't break their gaze.
"Last night."
He remembers the way his hands had ghosted over the beautiful curves of her body the night before, and he feels her heat seeping farther into him.
"No, love, I'm here. We're here. And it's all real."
"Thank you." She pulls herself tighter against him. "Thank you."
"I didn't realize how much it meant to you."
She places a warm kiss against his sternum.
"Last night was one of the most wonderful nights of my life, Edward."
He rolls over onto his back, and she lays her head against his chest.
"But I barely… we barely… that was nothing compared to what you could… what someone else could give you."
"Don't talk like that." She chides, "One touch from you is worth a thousand from any other person in this world."
"Even Jake?" The words fly out of his mouth before he can restrain them. He flinches at the callous tone.
"What did you say?" She sits up abruptly.
"Nothing. I'm sorry."
"No. Why did you bring up Jake?"
He lays his forearm over his face, covering his eyes. Resigned, he sighs and tells her, "You talk about him sometimes… in your sleep."
He remembers the dream she'd had in the car. Where she had apparently been defending her decision to become a vampire to a smelly werewolf.
"D-Do I?" She stuttered. He could see her eyes moving rapidly back and forth, searching her memory for any glimpses of dreams and what they might have contained.
He hates the nervousness he sees branded in her gaze. It makes him nervous. Like maybe his hold on her isn't as strong as he thought.
He sees her blush, and his thoughts automatically jump to the worst.
"I screamed, didn't I?"
He blinks rapidly, confused by her question. What on earth would have her screaming during a dream about a werewolf? His heart ached at the thoughts running through his mind.
"It's silly really." She begins, and as usual impatience swarms around him and he eagerly swallows up each word as it falls from her mouth, never quick enough.
"I know Jake would never hurt me. I'm not sure what has me so spooked."
That catches his attention.
"Hurt you? The werewolf?" He can keep the sheer outrage from creeping into his tone.
"No! No. He would never. It's just… I keep having this dream where I'm… and he… We…"
You, him, what? He urges silently. His fists are clenched so tight, he thinks he might ground his fingernails to dust.
"I would of course like to think that if that did happen… he'd be more accepting… but it's hard to tell."
His need to know pulls free from his restraint like a wild dog breaking his chains.
"I have no clue what you're talking about."
She bites her lip, watching him worriedly, and starts to stutter out a response.
"I-It's nothing. J-Just a dream…"
"Isabella…" He pushes.
"Don't 'Isabella' me… I don't want to fight, and if I tell you, we will…"
Damn. This relationship would be so much easier if her mind were open to him.
He leans close, knowing that he's cheating, but releases the full potency of his golden gaze upon her. She sighs and leans closer.
"I love you." He whispers.
"I love you too."
"People in love are honest with each other." He prods.
She blinks and breaks out of her trance.
"Y-Yes. But there's honesty and there's stupidity."
He buries a hand in her hair, his pinky finger grazing the slightly sweaty skin of her neck. She shudders at the feeling.
"I don't think you're stupid, Bella."
She laughs and her breath is like a fragrant breeze upon his face.
"You say that now. But you haven't heard about the dream yet."
"My opinion of you could never be changed. I find you absolutely perfect. Tell me your dream, let me prove it to you."
The apprehension never leaves her expression, but she folds into his demands regardless. She does, however, move out of his embrace to sit on the opposite side of the bed, her feet dangling over, and her back facing him.
"In the dream… Jake and the rest of the pack attack you and me. It's why I scream."
"And why do they attack us?"
"Because… Because I'm like you… a vampire." She spits out the last word with such fear and dread, and he can see her shoulders tense. Her spine seems to tighten, her fist tangles in the sheets, and he knows she's preparing for another fight. She expects him to blow-up like he has in the past, but he oddly doesn't feel any of the normal frustration. For he, too, has been plagued with visions of his Bella with eyes as gold as Van Gogh's sunflowers, and skin like the marbled columns in Rome. In fact, he sees it nearly every time he closes his eyes. He sees alabaster body entwined with alabaster body, pink lips parted in passion, and both the simplicity and complexity of forever with his lover in his arms.
Her muscles constrict more with every moment of his silence. Rather than using words, he answers by sliding up behind her. He slips a leg on each side of her, the inside of his thighs pressing against the outside of hers. He advances until he can feel the curve of her back pressed against the muscles of his chest.
Her body restricts even further for the barest of moments, and then she relaxes so completely that it's as if all the bones have disappeared from her body, and she seems to wrap around him, weightless, like the enchanting effects of a drug.
His tongue darts out, tasting the shell of her ear. She shivers in response, and he can feel the vibrations ripple through him as well.
She pushes back against him, the curve of her bottom pressed intimately against him, and he growls low in her ear.
"Are you angry?" she asks, her words flitting by him like feathers in the wind.
He places a hand against the hot skin of her stomach, feeling the notch of her bellybutton beneath his palm.
"Do I seem angry to you?" He murmurs.
Her reply comes out low and long, like a moan. "No."
"That's because I'm not."
"You're not upset that I dream about you biting me? That sometimes it's all I can think about?" There's an edge to her voice, and he wonders if she's trying to pick a fight. But he can't summon the anger, because he can't fault her for wanting the same things he wants—irrational though they may be.
"I certainly don't like it. But I cannot blame you for envisioning the very thing that I see painted against the black every time I shut my eyes."
He's jealous of her dreams—where she can enjoy the idea of their infinite future without the crippling guilt he feels during the light of day. It's been so long since he's dreamed—he wants to close his eyes and be lost to his fantasies. Because maybe then he wouldn't be so tempted to make his fantasy a reality.
"You too? Is it all you can think about too?"
Her voice isn't filled with hope, she's doesn't dare to think he's changed his mind. Instead it's relieved—that she doesn't have to deal with this longing alone. He wonders if he's finally drowned out her hope completely. He realizes, with a sharp, jarring pain in his chest, that somehow their tables have turned. A deep ache blooms in his chest like a rare flower. And He realizes with a surge of self-hatred, that it is he who has begun to hope.
He shakes his head, concentrating instead of the feeling of her against him, so tight they could be sewn together. He lets himself get lost in it.
"Well…" He trails a hand up to her rib cage, feeling goose bumps rise up in response. "It's not the only thing I think about."
And then she's kissing him with abandon, and he opens his mouth to her, tasting her, devouring her in the only way in which he'll allow himself.
What was it they said about the forbidden?
Her tongue slides against his own, warmth against cool, and he prays he'll never forget her taste.
So much sweeter.
A/N: I know that it's not very long. And I apologize again. But I'm afraid it was this or nothing…
I do hope you all still enjoy it. My very small, but heartfelt Christmas present to you all.
Happy Holidays!
Now if you're still on for the ride, leave me your own little Christmas present in the form of a review!