WOW! We got lots of new viewers joining the party from the last chapter, and I must say welcome. Thanks for your kind words. This is one tense fanfic and I am glad there are people out there who enjoy the angst.
My vacation was lovely and I am so tan! Thanks for the well wishes.
Alrighty, moving right along with this chappie.
Leave me some love if you feel so inclined.
THANKS FOR READING!
December 24, 2010
As I stir from sleep, I immediately become conscious of Bella in my arms. Again. I don't know how I feel about it, but I'm certainly not surprised.
I lay on my stomach, almost completely on top of Bella. My head rests on her chest and her fingers rhythmically run through my hair.
She kisses each of my eyelids, and I sigh in contentment.
"If you bail on me this morning or scream at me, I will seriously hurt you." Her words are harsh but her tone is tender.
"Did we…?" I don't even open my eyes. I just want to stay with Bella like this forever without having to face reality.
"No. That was the direction things were heading in, but then you vomed."
Funny, my mouth doesn't taste like puke. And I feel remarkably good for the amount of alcohol I consumed last night.
"I made you brush your teeth," Bella says as if she can read my mind.
"Thanks, love," I murmur into her hair. Wow. I called her love. Maybe I am still a little drunk.
"I don't think you're friend Tia likes me very much," Bella muses as she continues to run her fingers through my hair. Still, I don't open my eyes. I decide that as long as they remain closed, I can simply be here with Bella without all the complications of our past. "We may have had words this morning."
"Bella," I reprimand, "did you call her a cocksucker?"
"Maybe."
Again, I am going to claim that I'm still a little drunk because I find the thought of Bella being so Bellaish around Tia extremely amusing.
"You kissed her," she murmurs, sounding thoroughly upset.
"Just a quick make out secession," I reply dismissively. "No big deal."
Bella just growls.
"Why do you even bring it up? Are you jealous, Swan?" I tease, still not opening my eyes.
"Of course." I'm a little shocked by her quick and succinct reply. Back in the day, Bella claimed to never get jealous. Why should she? We were just fucking after all. Her extreme anger at every other girl interested in me indicated otherwise. But this calm, sad, admition both startles and pleases me.
"I should have given her some warning," I mutter self depreciatively, changing the subject. I'm not ready to deal with the supposed new Bella yet. The extent of my conversation with Tia comes back to me, and I can't help but feel guilty. I hurt one of my best friends, even if it wasn't intentional. "I just didn't realize the extent of her feelings for me, I suppose."
"She loves you," Bella whispers, pulling me closer.
"I didn't realize. Till last night," I reply, pushing my nose against her neck. She smells so divine.
"Do you love her back?"
I open my eyes and look up at Bella, but her face is blank, and I have no idea what she's thinking. I still her shaking hands with my own.
"No, Isabella," I reply truthfully. Part of me wants to lie. To tell her I love someone else, just to see how she'll react. "We're just friends."
"Good. Because I would have had to slap a hoe," Bella declares, her voice full of humor now.
"Bella…" I admonish. Because I am a terrible person, I'm secretly pleased by Bella's willingness to fight for me.
"Edward. Listen to me. I'm serious about you this time, and I'm going to fight you for another chance, even if I don't deserve it. I can't be without you anymore," she says in earnest.
I internally freak the fuck out. I'm not ready. I can't do this. Sitting up against the headboard, I regret opening my eyes and sigh heavily.
"What do you want from me?" I ask, miserably.
"I just want you," she states simply. Except I've heard this before. I need more, yet at the same time I don't even really want to know.
"Please, Bella," I beg, smacking a hand down on the comforter next to me in frustration. "For once. Just tell me what you are thinking."
She takes a huge breath, and then the words explode from her mouth at an alarming rate.
"I'm thinking that this talk we have can't be one of those poignant, poetic goodbyes where we both leave sad but content," she says, leaping out of bed and pacing in front of me. She looks damn sexy with her bed head and knee high socks. Her movements frantic as she stares at me beseechingly and wrings her hands.
"I can't lose," she continues. "I don't want closure. I can't just leave and accept your rejection, because I won't survive without you. I won't want too. I'm terrified of losing you, Edward, because you have always been my everything. I know I was in denial for a long time. I know I perpetually fucked you around for the better part of four years before taking off. So I'm here, wishing I had an explanation that will make it all better and make everything go away, but I don't. At this point, I'm just praying that what I tell you doesn't make it worse. And I do have things to tell you. Lots of things. I need you to hear them, but I can tell you aren't ready. You have to be... calm when I tell you.
"And, at the same time, in the less logical part of my brain, I'm just so totally relieved to be near you again. I just want to crawl inside you, and fucking attach myself to your organs and make it impossible for anything to separate us ever again. I want to fuck you senseless and make love with you. I want you to hold me and tell me you love me and that everything is going to be alright."
She's panting by the end of rant, and I gape at her in shock.
"Holy shit," is my only reply.
"I know. I told you there is a whole lot of crazy going on in here," she says, tapping her forehead and smiling ruefully. Dragging her feet, she makes her way back over to the bed and drops dramatically on her back next to me.
For whatever reason, I really want to kiss her. And more. The urge to pull her body to mine is overwhelming, and my hands fist in the sheets at my sides. I want to believe everything that she's just says. I want to believe that she is back for real and that she needs me in her life. Yet the three little words I've waited years to hear are still absent.
I fear that whatever she has to tell me will make things worse. I don't know how I could possibly feel worse about her two-year absence, and frankly, I don't want to find out. I can't help but feel that my time with Bella is not going to last, and I want to enjoy her before what ever she has to say makes it worse.
I fear that whatever "worse" is will make it impossible to forgive her. And despite my confusion, I really want to forgive her.
"I think we should just have sex," I blurt suddenly in response, surprising us both. "That's it."
Bella sits up with a jerk and stares at me like I've completely lost it. Which pretty much sums it up, I think.
"What the fuck did you just say to me, Edward Cullen?" she asks when she gathers her composure enough to speak again.
"I don't know. I might still be a bit intoxicated," I mumble, suddenly embarrassed.
Bella giggles like a lunatic before shocking me thoroughly, climbing into my lap and straddling my waist. I'm immediately go from halfway hard to all the way there, and my hands snake their way under my t-shirt that she wears. I rub my thumbs over the dimples just above her ass, and work my way up her spine.
She laughs again before giving me a lazy kiss. I groan into her mouth as her hands do magical things to my nether regions.
"I think I might still be dreaming," she whispers in my ear, nipping at my lobe, "because there is no way Edward Cullen just asked me to be his fuck buddy."
My hands pause with her shirt halfway off her body.
Is that what I'm suggesting?
I suppose it is.
Never would I have thought that I would want to go down this road again, but the idea is horribly appealing. I want her, so bad it's driving me insane. If she could manage to do the emotionless sex thing, so can I. It seems like the only way to deal with having Bella back in my life again. Or maybe it's some fucked up form of revenge; sleeping with her when I'm borderline positive that in the long run I won't be able to forgive her.
All I know for sure is that I'm not ready. I can't hear what she has to say yet. I'm enjoying being in denial.
So I make a rash decision.
I throw off her shirt and flip her over onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with my hips.
"Yes, Isabella," I say with a smirk. "That's exactly what I'm asking."
She takes my face in between her palms and stares at me for an excruciatingly long moment. Her eyes are narrowed at me in suspicion, and I fear that she is about to tell me to fuck off.
"Okay," she says, pulling her face to mine.
For a moment, I think that this is probably a terrible idea, but Bella is right here so I just go with it
I kiss her deeply as I run my hands down her naked torso. I continue to tease her with my mouth on her chest, and my hands narrowing in on the spot between her legs. Right where I know she wants me.
Bella's wool covered feet rest on the back of my naked calfs, a rough contrast to her smooth skin, before she wraps her legs tightly around my hips, grinding herself into my dick. I groan as i trace my hands down the length of her body, hooking my thumbs into the fabric at her mid thigh. I slowly remove one sock, and then the other, making sure to trail my fingertips down her legs as I do so.
Bella never stops kissing me and touching me while I try to bury all the love I feel for her and just focus on getting lost in the physical.
I can't believe we are back here. I can't believe I drag her back here, but I don't know what else to do. I want her. Need her. And this pleasure I get from her body is the one thing I understand.
After everything she's done, I shouldn't have any emotion left for her. So I just keep touching her until all higher brain function seems to shut off.
At some point, I glance down at her naked form beneath me and notice a distinct change. Nestled right next to her hipbone, in the slight indent where I like to rest my thumb, is a cluster of thick black lines creating a dark symbol, no bigger than the circumference of a light bulb. I still my movements, bending my head to get a better look at this very visible change to Bella's exquisite form. Separately, the lines would just be lines, but together they form some sort of abstract bird stretching its wings. Its tail almost appears to be on fire.
Tentatively, I run my thumb over the tattoo and push.
"What's this?" I mutter, still not sure what I think about the marking on Bella's flawless skin.
"Hum?" she says, lifting her head from the pillows to get a good look at what has distracted me from our lovemaking. "Oh. It's a phoenix."
"Rising from the ashes?" I ask, a little in awe.
Bella stares at me in silence for a long time, and as is usual, I desperately want to know what she is thinking.
"Workin' on it," she whispers finally.
I kiss her then, and there is no more reason to talk.
I grin and hum to myself as I basically skip down stairs after the most satisfying morning I can remember in a very, very long time. I feel good about my fuck buddy decision with Bella. Everything is great. Good. Awesome, even.
So great in fact, that Bella is too sated to do anything but demand I bring her food.
Yeah, I do good work.
Still humming, I stick my head in the fridge and rummage around for something horribly unhealthy for my ladylove who best still be naked when I return.
"Hey." I hear Tia's voice and hit the top of my head on a shelf. I curse colorfully, grabbing my head as I emerge slowly from the fridge.
"Hey," I reply, rubbing my sore noggin and wishing I'd pulled on more than just a pair of sweat pants. Truthfully, I'd completely forgotten that my friend was still here. Bella's naked body tends to induce amnesia.
"Wow," she says, raking her eyes over my body before blushing and studying the floor. Tia is fully dressed and seems to be on her way out, loitering in the doorway. "Of course you have a perfect body."
"Um… thanks?" This is incredibly tense and awkward. I have no idea how to fix it. This out of control, don't know what I'm doing thing is quickly becoming the norm for me. Unfortunately.
Everything seems to be falling apart around me. But I don't care because I can have sex with Bella whenever I want.
This is probably a terrible decision. No good can come of it. But I'm really, really enjoying it.
"So, about last night," I say, pulling up a chair at the kitchen table, hoping to cover myself slightly. "I'm so sorry, Tia."
With a heavy sigh, she sits down across from me. "You know, this morning Bella was sitting right where you are."
"You talked to Bella?" I ask in concern, forgetting for a moment that Bella told me this already. She has a tendency to freak out when she's jealous, and I don't think Tia could handle a verbal lashing.
"Yes. It was very… enlightening, I suppose," she replies, still looking sad. "I can't picture you with her."
I smile ruefully. "Yeah, it's that whole opposites attract thing," I explain. "Believe it or not, we really are good together. For the most part."
Like when we are doing it.
"Bella said the same thing this morning," Tia says with a humorless chuckle. "So what's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," I reply automatically. I sure don't plan on telling Tia that I'm sleeping with Bella.
"How much do you remember about last night?" she asks.
"Most of it," I confess. She told me she wants me. Now everything is different, and I just want to know if she can still be my friend.
"So you remember when I told you…"
"That you like me?" I finish with a blush. "Yeah. I'm sorry Tia. I should have told you about Bella before we got to the party. Or a long time ago, actually."
"To be honest that wouldn't have changed anything," she admits with a shrug. "What do you see in her, Edward? I'm mean she is so uncivilized and rude. You won't believe what she called me this morning."
"Cocksucker?" I venture.
"Edward!" she shouts, appalled. I never totally realized how up tight Tia is before now. "How can you possibly be attracted to someone who talks like that?"
"Don't know," I reply, shrugging. "I've always found her ever colorful language somewhat endearing."
"Who are you?" she says, gaping at me.
Again, I just shrug.
"She does drugs, Edward," Tia continues, aghast. "She slept with your good friend!"
"First of all, she doesn't do drugs anymore." Tia looks at me with skepticism, but I press on in defense of Bella. "And Bella and Jake were together long before I met either of them, so that doesn't really matter to me at all."
In theory, anyway.
"She called me a c-word sucker," Tia mutters petulantly.
"Sorry," I mutter, struggling to keep the grin off my face. "And to answer your question, I was originally attracted to her beauty. I'd never met anyone like her. Her attitude, her toughness. But there is a soft center under all that. It's the juxtaposition of vulnerability and strength that fascinates me and drives me crazy. She knows me, challenges me, gets me. And I her. For the most part anyway."
"What's your favorite kind of food?" Tia asks abruptly.
"What?" I reply, thrown by her question.
"Your favorite kind of food," she repeats. "Like Italian? Chinese?"
"Uh… Kind of food? Ethiopian, I guess. Why?"
"No reason," she says, frowning now. "So are you getting back together with Bella?"
Sighing heavily, I drop my face to my hands. "Not at the moment," I reply finally. "It's complicated."
"Normally, I would talk it out with you but I just don't think I can handle hearing all about how much you love that trashy woman at the moment," Tia says primly. My hands clench into fists under the table, and I have to close my eyes and count to ten to calm myself down.
"Believe me, I have nothing to say," I reply.
"Where art thou, lover?" Bella calls from the hall, and I brace myself for the incoming awkward. She slides into the kitchen on her socks, giggling hysterically. Unfortunately, she is unable to stop and crashes into the kitchen counter before falling to the wooden floor with a thud. Bella continues to laugh, but I'm so freaked out by her tumble that I gallantly jump to my feet to assist her.
"Oh relax, Sir Galahad," she says with a giggle as I help her to her feet. "I'm fine except for the fact my tummy is empty and you are currently staring at me in concern instead of fucking me six ways from Sunday."
She wraps her arms around my waist and beams up at me, obviously wanting me to kiss her. I clear my throat awkwardly and look beyond her to a very pale Tia. I really hate that I'm hurting my friend, but I don't know what to do.
Bella's head whips around and her eyes narrow in the direction of my dear friend. "Oh," Bella says coldly though she blushes and pulls self-consciously on the hem of my t-shirt she threw on. It has the periodic table of elements on it. "Hey, Tia. Didn't know you were still here."
"Obviously," Tia replies dryly. "I was actually just on my way out. Edward, hopefully I will see you soon."
"Of course," I say, moving to give Tia a hug. We separate quickly, and Bella immediately grabs my hand. Her display of irrational jealousy makes me smile. "Maybe we can all go out to dinner sometime. Let you two get to know each other under different circumstances."
Both woman look at me like I'm a totally insane person. Which is probably true since I decided to become Bella's fuck buddy an hour ago. Again. What the hell am I doing?
"That would be lovely," Tia says. "Bella, it's been such a pleasure making your acquaintance."
"Ditto, homeslice," replies Bella. We watch Tia leave, and I sigh when I hear the front door close, plowing my hand through my hair.
"Well that was tense," says Bella. "Now lets grab some crackers and head back upstairs. Rosalie cannot know that you let me back into your pants. She will murder me. Upstairs pronto!"
Christmas is a quiet affair. Emmett and Rose go to her parents and Bella goes to the Black's for Christmas Eve, but everyone is around in the morning. We open presents and drink eggnog. Bella sits apart from everyone else, watching. She didn't get a single present, and I wish this fact didn't make me so sad.
I don't want to feel anything other than physical for her, but its difficult.
Rosalie sets everyone to work, preparing Christmas dinner. Bella and I chop vegetables. We stand side by side in silence as our family laughs and converses around us. As usual, the silence is not uncomfortable, but so much is left unsaid between us there is a tension beyond the sexual that seems to encompass us.
Rosalie is still not talking to Bella, but the rest of the family seems to have welcomed her back into the fold for the most part, but things still aren't the same.
Bella and I spend the next few days in bed. We have the house to ourselves because my siblings actually have real jobs and they don't have the days between Christmas and New Years off. Even Jasper, who works as a teacher, leaves every morning with big twin and apparently hangs out with in her studio all day.
We develop a highly stratifying routine. Bella gets up way before I do and goes job hunting. She usually returns around the time I wake, baring breakfast. We spend the rest of the day screwing around and not talking about anything real. She tries, somewhat valiantly, to discuss emotions and our relationship and where the hell she's been for the last two years but I always manage to distract her.
"Do you even see what's goin' on here?" Bella sits in my windowsill in her underwear, thigh high socks, and an oversized zip up, smoking a post-coital cigarette. She looks outside, face pointed towards the Flatirons. The bright winter sun brings the red out in her hair, and she looks like a goddess.
"What's going on where?" I ask, thinking she is observing something outside.
"With you and me," she clarifies.
"Bella, I told you I don't want to talk about—"
"Exactly!" she says, putting out her cigarette, closing the window, shucking the hoodie, and turning towards me. "You don't want to talk relationship and I do."
"That's because we don't have a relationship," I say, hand fisting in my hair.
She chuckles darkly and moves back to the bed, settling herself on my lap with her legs straddling my hips.
"Where have I heard that before?" she says, tapping her chin and squinting her eyes in exaggerated concentration. "Ah yes. Me. That was my fucking mantra for the better part of four years, remember?"
I just scowl up at her, not getting her point.
"This is a big time role reversal!" she declares, pounding a fist on my chest for emphasis. "I want to talk commitment and you don't. You are big time in denial about us, and I'm not. When I try to talk to you, you distract me with sex, instead of the other way around. You are me two years ago and I'm you."
I hadn't thought about it, but she is completely right.
"Do you know what that means," she says, leaning towards my lips and supporting herself above me with her elbows on either side of my head. I'm thoroughly entranced by her dark chocolate stare, and my body strains off the bed to get closer to hers.
"What?" I whisper, my hands slipping under her panties and cupping her firm little butt.
"That eventually you're gonna pull your head out of your ass and figure out that you can't live without me," she whispers in my ear.
And just like that, I've had enough with the talk. With a growl I flip her over and kiss the breath right out of her. If she can't breathe, she can't talk.
"You have to let me go," Bella giggles several hours later as she squirms in my arms. All four of my limbs are wrapped around her body from behind. I burrow my face into her hair and shake my head, indicating that I have no plans to release her. She squeals and wiggles while I touch her everywhere and rub myself against her inappropriately.
"Good God, man!" she squeaks. "We're done it like five times today! And you have case studies to go over."
"Don't care," I reply, continuing to grope her. She stifles a little moan and I think she's giving in to my advances, but then she starts fighting me with renewed vigor.
"Seriously, Edward," she says, her voice husky with lust. "If Rosalie finds me in here with you, she's going to kick my ass."
"I don't give a fuck what Rosalie thinks," I murmur, nipping at her ear. Bella's whole body tenses, and I begrudgingly let her go.
She slumps off the bed immediately, her limbs shaking slightly as she jerks her arms into a long sleeved shirt.
"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned. I try to touch her shoulder in comfort, but she pulls away.
"I have to live with her, Edward. She used to be my good friend," Bella snaps. "So forgive me for caring what she thinks."
"Bella, love—"
"Just do your reading," she says. Bella pulls on a pair of tight jeans, green shirt, and thick socks before pushing a hand through my hair. She leans forward, and I close my eyes so she can kiss each lid.
September 30, 2008
"I really don't understand why you don't like my genius plan," Bella snaps without even looking at me. Her gaze is focused solely on the paperwork she is diligently filing in the front office of Hallett Hall. She is on duty this afternoon, and I stopped by to bring her lunch and keep her company.
"It's not that I don't like it," I sputter, defending myself lamely.
"You with your academic awesome should be proud that I am on track to graduate at the end of the fucking semester," she continues, bending over to shove some papers in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The movement provides me an excellent view of her backside, and I forget what my point was.
"Stop ogling the fucking goods, you dirty pervert," she scolds as she straightens and turns back to her computer.
"What were we talking about?" I ask, adjusting my pants in what I hope is a subtle way. But Bella chuckles, and I know I didn't get away with it.
"My genius plan to graduate early. Thus owing Phil less money. Plus I've been an RA for two years and a half years and I just can't take it anymore. I'm tried of being forced to care about the obscenely unimportant problems of whiney, self-involved freshmen," she explains, viciously jabbing at the keys of the work computer.
"Well whose fault is that?" I scoff. "I've asked you hundreds of times to move in with me."
"Can't afford rent," she replies through clenched teeth.
"I told you not to worry about that either," I say, trying to stay calm.
"You're making me want to punch you."
"At least you are verbalizing that desire rather than acting on it."
"Cut the fancy talk, dipshit," she snaps, turning to glare at me. "I'm graduating a semester early and that's that."
"And what are you going to do after you graduate?" I ask, being the reasonable one as usual.
"Dunno. I think I might travel. Become a nomad. Hitchhike across this glorious nation of ours," she says.
I snort, and she raises an eyebrow at me.
"What?" I ask in horror. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I'm in no rush to start a career," Bella replies, turning back to her work. "I want to see things. I want experience."
"But didn't you do all that no home, vagabond thing with your mom growing up?" I ask, on the verge of completely panicking.
"That doesn't fucking count," she dismisses. "I've been living in Boulder since I was eleven, and I feel all restless."
I sit quietly, picking at my sandwich and collecting my thoughts.
"I mean, I know I need to pay back Phil but he's still being fucking stubborn about it. I figure that if more time passes he might change his mind."
"Bella," I say, working really hard to keep the emotion out of my voice. "If you travel after you graduate in December, I can't go with you."
Bella's fingers falter momentarily on the keyboard before she resumes her vigorous typing.
"Oh," she murmurs in reply. "Didn't really think about that."
Bella hasn't hurt me like this in a long time. Since her mother left a year ago, things between us have been wonderful. Though she hasn't verbalized anything, I can see how much she cares about me in the way she acts. I thought she stopped denying our connection. She needs me as I need her. Our lives our intertwined. We spend most of our nights together. She lets me take her on dates, introduce her as my girlfriend, and tell her I love her. We are together in every since of the word, even if its not officially declared.
How could she possibly think about leaving, just like that?
"Wow," Bella says contemplatively, interrupting the silence and my brooding. "It's really ending."
"What is?" I squeak out, terrified that she's about to dump me. I don't think I'll survive.
"College. This whole chapter of our lives." Her words only slightly nullify my fears. I really do not like the direction this is heading. "Nothing's permanent."
"I don't believe that," I reply. "How I feel about you isn't going to change."
Bella turns to look at me with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth. Sighing heavily, she shakes her head at me.
"Don't even go there," she says.
"Go where, Bella?" I snap, angry now. "To how I feel about you? To what I want for us in the future?"
"See," she says with a glare, pushing herself away from the desk and abruptly standing to pace around the small office. "This is exactly the problem. There is no 'us', Edward. I thought I was pretty goddamn clear about that from the get go."
I laugh humorlessly. "I thought we were passed this."
"Passed what?" she demands with a shriek. "Not wanting anything serious? I've fucking told you… You said you could handle the friends with benefits situation!"
"You are so full of shit!" I yell back. "So in denial. We are much more than friends, Isabella. And you fucking know it."
Her face crumbles, changing abruptly from livid to scared. Her eyes go wide and her teeth instantly close over her bottom lip. "I don't know what the fuck you are talking about," she says without much heat.
"Yes, you do," I reply, rising and approaching her. She backs up in an apparent panic, until I have her cornered against a filing cabinet. "I love you. And I think you love me too."
"Edward. You're being fucking ridiculous. I don't even like myself so there is abso-fucking-lutely no reason for anyone else to put up with me. You're a very smart guy, and you would have to be an idiot to be with me on a permanent basis!"
"You don't see yourself correctly, Bella," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my tone as I look sadly down at her. "You're not bad. You're secretly kind and loving and smart. You write poetry and always give money or your leftovers to hobos, even though you don't have much to spare. And you like to take care of me, in your own way. Always saving me dinner and waiting up when I'm home late. You. Are. Good. Despite this hard thing you project, you're good."
"Just fucking stop it!" she yells, hands in her hair and glaring. "My mom—"
"Right. I know. I get it. Your mom left and you grew up thinking your dad didn't want you. It's tough. You've had a tough life with the moving and the flaky parents and everything, but it's time to get over it now."
"I am over it. I'm fine—"
"No, Bella, you're not. You freak out when I tell you I love you." She pales and looks a bit like she is going to vomit, illustrating my point. "You are incapable of saying the word yourself when I know you love me too. And I know you told me from the beginning, that you couldn't give me what I want. Form the get go, you said it was just sex. Well, that's all bullshit. We have been together for two and a half years. Not just fuck buddies. But together together. No matter what you label it, we are in a relationship, Bella. A rather serious relationship."
"But… I… but… we…" She's stuttering and its rare that Bella is at a loss of words. I'm used to strength and impenetrability but for once, she is actually listening to me.
"Isabella," I whisper, wrapping my hand around her neck. I pull her to my chest and kiss her temple. "I love you. I've loved you since I first met you, freshmen year. I love you, and you love me too."
"I can't…" she moans miserably.
"Try. Just try. Make an effort to get better. Please."
"Will you leave me?" she asks, staring up at me with those big brown eyes. "If I can't… Will you leave?"
"No, Bella," I sigh, hugging her again, relieved that she returns my hug with equal desperation. "I can't be away from you. But you're the one talking about leaving."
"Urg," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "I know. God, that was just fucking ridiculous, wasn't it?"
"I certainly think so," I reply, tenderly grabbing her hands. She winces, refusing to meet my gaze. "So you're not going to go gallivanting across the country without me?"
Bella shakes her head and bites her lip. I quickly remove it from her teeth before tracing her jaw with my thumb.
"I'm still graduating a semester early," she mumbles like a petulant child.
"Whatever you want, love," I reply with a smile.
Showing me her shy, unsure side, she takes a tentative step forward, wrapping her arms around my neck. Releasing a huge sigh of relief, I return her embrace. Bella pulls back, moving to hold my face to hers with her hands on my jaw. She kisses me roughly, but quickly. It leaves me a little lightheaded, and I'm grinning when she pulls away.
"Edward?" she says, looking so vulnerable.
"Yes, love?"
"I'll try."
October 3, 2008
"I'm coming with you," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose and trying so keep the frustration out of my voice.
"You have school!" Bella yells at me as she paces around her small dorm room. Occasionally, she throws an article of clothing into her backpack. She claims to be packing, but so far she only has a swimsuit, a pair of sweat pants, and a leopard print bra.
She won't be able to wear any of that to the funeral.
Last night, Bella received a call from Carlisle of all people. I watched as her face morphed from confused, to pleased, to puzzled, to devastated, to emotionless. Silently she handed me the phone, before standing and moving directly to the liquor cabinet. I watched, utterly bemused, as Bella disappeared with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
"Dad?" I asked when Bella departed. "What did you say to drive my girlfriend to drink?"
"Edward, it's Charlie." I could hear stress and sorrow in his voice. "He's… Edward, he had a heart attack."
"Is he alright?" I asked, lamely.
"No, Edward. He's dead."
I sat there in stunned silence for a moment before Carlisle gave me the few details he had.
"We'll be there tomorrow," I assured him before hanging up to find Bella.
She didn't talk to me all night. She just sat on the roof, drinking. At some point she let me wrap her in a blanket and nodded her agreement when I explained flight times in her ear.
Bella still hasn't talked about it, or cried, and now she's forbidding me from accompanying her to Forks for her father's funeral. Yeah, like that's going to happen.
"Bella, I can take the time off. It will be fine," I say, clenching my fists in an effort to keep calm. The truth was, I'd already contacted all my professors who had been shockingly understanding. They'd assigned me a boatload of make up work that would take me weeks to complete, but I didn't mind. "Plus, I already bought the non-refundable tickets."
"Why the fuck would you do that?" she snaps, marching over to me like she's going to punch me. I preemptively grab her wrists.
"You said I could," I remind her. "Last night."
"I was fucking drunk!" she snaps. She's completely frazzled. Her eyes are wide and panic stricken. Her hands shake. She looks so lost, it breaks my heart.
"Come here," I say, dropping my grip from her hands to rest on her waist. She reluctantly steps forward and relaxes into my body. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. She returns my hug, and exhales loudly.
"Did you sleep at all last night?" I ask her, kissing her temple.
"No," she whispers. "Did you?"
"No," I answer. "We'll sleep on the plane. Let me help you pack."
"I can do it," she mutters.
"Bella, please. Just let me help you," I insist.
She nods once before moving off my lap. Together we pack all she will need for the next week. She carefully lays out the black dress she selected for the funeral out on top off my clothes in my suit case, keeping it flat rather than wadding in up in her backpack.
Emmett drives us the airport in silence. I watch Bella's face from the back in the rearview mirror. It hauntingly blank, and I don't know what to do to make it easier for her.
Bella moves like a zombie through security and onto the airplane. She doesn't speak, and I don't try to start conversation. We both get a couple hours of sleep on the plane before we land in Seattle.
Esme and Carlisle pick us up. They hug Bella who looks horribly uncomfortable. Her emotionlessness scares me. Her fire has burned out.
Carlisle talks about the medical behind what happened to Charlie while Bella stares out the window, nodding at appropriate times. Esme offers to oversee the details of the funeral, and Bella smiles for the first time in the last 24-hours at my mother.
"Thank you," Bella murmurs in an unsteady voice. "I'm very grateful that you're doing that, Mrs.… Esme."
Bella doesn't want to sleep at Charlie's, alone or with me, so she stays at my parent's house. We eat dinner in relative silence. I watch Bella push her food around her plate. She take's a total of three bites.
I push a glass of water towards her when I notice that the majority of her meal consists of wine. She hiccups and takes the water with a rueful smile.
"So, Bella," Esme says in a soft voice after the dishes are cleared away. "I have the guest bedroom on the third floor all made up for you with clean sheets and everything."
Wow, not liking the sound of that.
"Uh…" Bella turns her panicked eyes on me, and I know she doesn't like the sound of that either.
"Mom," I say, feeling awkward. "I was thinking Bella could sleep with me." Esme winces, and Bella grabs my hand. "I don't want her to be alone tonight."
"Oh. Right. Well, I don't think that's entirely appropriate," my mother bumbles with a frown.
"Esme," Carlisle says, putting a hand on Mom's back. "They are twenty-two years old and in a serious relationship," Bella makes a choking sound at that, but I'm the only one that seems to notice. "Let them be."
"Oh," Mom says, looking upset. "I guess that's fine."
After that awkward little interlude, I rush Bella upstairs. She takes a long shower before crawling into bed with me. I try to pull her into my arms, but she remains stiff.
"What's wrong, love?" I ask.
"Nothin'," she replies tersely, scooting to the very edge of the bed to get away from me.
"Bella, your dad just died," I whisper. We still haven't talked about it. Bella hasn't said a word about it nor has she cried. Even though she didn't know him growing up, in the last couple years they got very close. They talked on the phone weekly. She once told me that it was wonderful, having a real father. And Bella doesn't throw around words like wonderful often.
She's hurting. It's written all over her face and with her silence. To those who don't know her, Bella's lack of outward grief may appear cold, detached. But I know there is a storm raging inside my girl. I just wish she'd let me help shoulder the burden.
"I know," she replies, sounding miserable.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.
"There's nothing to talk about," she insists. "Charlie was alive and now he's dead and I spent a grand total of a month with him. Tops."
"Isabella," I say, reaching out for her in the dark. "That's not your fault."
Bella drops back into silence and tries to wiggle away from my hand.
"Please, Bella," I say after ten minutes of suffocating quiet. "Just tell me what your thinking."
"You won't like what I'm thinking," she whispers.
"Just tell me. You'll feel better," I promise.
"I'm mad at you," she mutters petulantly.
"For flying out here with you?" I ask, puzzled by her answer.
"Yes. But there's more and its irrational and making me feel like a crazy person," she admits, sitting up suddenly in bed and smacking her palms in to the comforter.
"It's okay. You're allowed to be irrational right now."
"I'm mad at you because it's your fault that I even care that he's dead," she blurts out before groaning and burying her face in a pillow. "You were the one that convinced me to talk to him freshmen year over Thanksgiving break. You are the one that told me to cultivate a relationship! If it wasn't for you, Charlie would still be a stranger to me and I wouldn't be hurting like this."
I just blink at her, not knowing what to say.
"I'm a crazy person."
"No your not," I say, trying not to chuckle at her adorableness. Even if she is pissed at me and her dad is dead, I find her horribly appealing. There is probably something wrong with me. "You're grieving. And you're also looking at it all wrong. Knowing you made him so happy. Hopefully you'll get to the point where you're grateful for the time you had."
"That's the thing," she says with a sigh. "I thought I would have more time. I mean, I saw him over the summer, but it was only for a week and we didn't even really do anything. I read while he fished like every day."
"That's quality time, Isabella," I insist. "You were both doing what you loved, but together."
"I guess," she mutters. "It just doesn't really seem real."
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into my side. "I know, love," I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple. "Unfortunately, it will become real."
She sighs heavily, snuggling into my side. "That's the worst part. It might not. My life isn't going to change at all. I barely even knew my own father."
"That may have been true once, but in the last couple years you've gotten close," I assure her. "You talk weekly."
"Talked," she corrects. "We talked once a week."
"Oh, Bella." She sniffs but shows no other sign of crying. At her pain, I'm pretty close to tears myself, and Bella glances up at my face at my tone. Giving me a heart breaking little smile, she slow repositions herself so she's sitting in my lap, facing me. Her shins rest against the outsides of my thighs. An erection grows in my pants, and I blush in the shame of getting turned on at such a time.
"No," she says forcefully, grabbing my face when I attempt to pull away. "I'm sad and it's making you sad and that just makes me sadder." She kisses me passionately, and my head falls back against the headboard.
"Uhh…"
"But you can make it stop," she murmurs against my lips as she rolls her pelvis, causing me to let out a low groan. "Please, Edward," she kisses me again but my lips remain unresponsive in my shock, "make it stop."
Bella continues to whisper this mantra and punctuates it with kisses until she coaxes a response from me. It doesn't take long before we're both naked, and she's writhing beneath me. She sinks her teeth into the sensitive skin at the junction of my shoulder and neck when I remind her to be quite because of my parents.
I come real quick after that.
After, we cling together, facing each other. She strokes my face, and I stare at her avidly. At one point, I can see the tears pooling in her eyes, but she blinks them away before really falling asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours.
Esme plans the majority of the funeral, and Bella is so grateful, she willingly hugs my mother. The service is held two days later, and my dark angel hasn't really said much of anything, I can tell she is dreading it.
My parents talk in hushed tones in the front of the car, while Bella sits close to me, curled into my side while she stares blankly out the window. Her silence is deeply unsettling, and I would feel better if she cried, screamed, or cursed the gods. The lack of emotion shows the extent of her devastation.
It slays me, seeing her like this.
We arrive at the church, and I slide out of the car, offering a hand to Bella. She latches onto my arm. People stare at the deceased police chief's allusive daughter, and I know that this makes her uncomfortable, but her face remains impassive.
"Bella," Mrs. Newton says, stopping us before we make it to relative safety of the chapel. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
I watch in horror as Mrs. Newton throws herself on Bella, sobbing uncontrollably. Bella looks revolted and pats her on the back awkwardly, staring at me to help her. Somehow, Mrs. Newton ends up crying in my arms, which only serves to piss Bella off. But I detangle myself and wrap my arm around Bella again.
Unfortunately, we are stopped over and over again as we move inside. Various distraught towns folk stop Bella, extolling her late fathers various qualities. She has never met most of them, and all look disappointed when she fails to really speak to them at all. I hold up the majority of the heavy lifting, conversation wise, and I sigh in relief when we finally talk our seats in the front pew next to my parents.
All of Forks seems to have showed up to say goodbye to the chief, and Bella looks horribly overwhelmed. Despite her passive face, she squeezes my hand throughout the service. It runs long because so many of Charlie's close friends speak. Carlisle speech is moving, and has tears pooling even in my eyes. Particularly heartbreaking is Charlie's girlfriend, Pat Clearwater who lost her first husband to a heart attack as well.
Bella's eyes are the only dry ones in the church, and I don't know how she's managing to stay so composed.
The reception held at our house is even more strained. Bella becomes even more withdrawn as countless strangers recount memories of Charlie. I can see what Bella's thinking. She is just seeing this as more evidence that she didn't really know her father. Many people look to Bella for comfort or to commiserate or to share their grief, but she remains impassive.
The one time I leave Bella side to visit the buffet in an attempt to get her to eat something, I over hear Mrs. Stanley talking to Mrs. Newton and my mother.
"It's just not natural!" says Mrs. Stanley. "To be that unemotional. I mean, her father died."
"I totally agree," says Mrs. Newton. "It's like she didn't care for him at all. She has always been ungrateful. Like that summer when I gave her a job and she left without any notice. Very selfish, that girl. Like her mother. How could she not care about her own father?"
"That's totally unfair," Esme says, glaring between the two women and making me proud. "She's been staying with us and I can promise you that she is very distraught. Bella just has a different way of showing her grief."
"Well I think she's cold," says Mrs. Stanley.
"Look at how she's latched on to your son, Esme," Mrs. Newton continues. "She obviously has an eye on his trust fund."
"That's fucking enough!" I hear myself yell, causing several heads to whip in my direction. "That girl is heartbroken over the lose of her father, and you gossiping harpies don't know anything about her or our relationship so just shut the hell up!"
I stalk back to Bella without ever making it the buffet. The look on her face leads me to think that she heard everything, but she remains eerily silent. Instead she just smiles sadly and gently reaches up to cradle my jaw, bringing my face to hers. She kisses me quickly before turning around and departing up the stairs.
After everyone has cleared out of our house and I've helped my mother clean up, I set off to find Bella. I'm shocked to see my bedroom empty, but it really doesn't take me long to locate her in the music room.
With hunched shoulders, she sits on the bench in front of my piano. It has been a long time since I've touched the instrument, or any like it for that matter. My life is just too full, between school and the hospital and Bella, for music. But I really have missed playing. At one point I even considered going to school to study music, but ultimately I much more interested in how the human body works than coaxing notes from wood and ivory.
Bella is staring down at the keys, not touching them. She has yet to change out of her black dress, and her posture is so defeated. I feel useless and powerless.
"Hey," I say, approaching her. I lay a hand on her shoulder but she doesn't even glace up from the piano. "How are you?"
She simply shrugs her shoulders, still not looking at me.
I sigh and take a seat next to her. She immediately lays her head on my shoulder and places her hand on my thigh. We sit in silence for a long time, and eventually my close proximity to my old piano overcomes me. I feel compelled to lift my hands, running them lovingly over the keys before softly beginning to spin out a simple melody.
Bella's head snaps up as she turns to gape at me.
"Sorry," I mutter, feeling guilty for disturbing her peace. But she huffs in frustration, grabs my hand from my lap, and places them on the keys. I look at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"Don't stop," she whispers before closing her eyes and laying her head back down. Its position on my shoulder impedes my movement slightly, but I don't mind. I play for my grieving dark angel, a lament. A requiem. I don't know the song, but instead just make it up on the spot. Keeping the basics of the melody fundamentally the same, over time the song morphs into something else. Its bittersweet, full of love and fear, pain and joy. It's a bundle of contradictions and just how I see Bella.
I play for hours, adding to it. Tweaking it.
Eventually, with wrists aching from lack of practice, I have to stop. By this time, Bella seems to have fallen asleep at my side, so I gently pick her up and carry her to my bedroom. She mumbles something and snuggles closer, not letting me go as I attempt to set her down. So, with great difficulty, I slip off our shoes and situate us in bed.
Bella is really sleeping. I kiss her temple before I join her.
We leave a couple days after the funeral. Bella inherited Charlie's house which he owned out right, and we went over there to pack everything up, but Bella took one look of the picture of herself and her dad taken last summer and decided that the house would just have to wait. We go back to Boulder with a promise form Esme that she's look after the house and air it out every once and awhile.
Things go back to normal, for the most part. Bella goes to class, does her job as an RA, and shares my bed, but she's a shell. She doesn't talk much, her eyes are dull. She just goes through the motions, and I'm at a loss.
I feel her slipping away, and I can't help but hold on tighter.
One Thursday night just before Thanksgiving, I get home from the hospital with plans to shower and change before heading over to Hallett for the night. Bella is on duty, and I'll do homework in her dorm room until she gets off and returns from the front desk.
Instead, I turn on the light in my room to find Bella sitting in the middle of my bed with her knees pulled up to her chin. And although she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, she frankly looks terrible. The dark circles, greasy hair, and silence have become the norm for Bella, and I don't know what to do to help her. Today, she has the hood of a black zip up pulled over her head and wears a pair of excessively holey jeans.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised to see her.
"I quit," she mutters, working her bottom lip.
I pause, halfway out of my sweater at her words. For one terrible moment I think she means she quits us. That she is finally done. Or maybe she means she quits school, which would enrage me because she is so close to finishing. Or maybe she means she quits everything. Life in Boulder. Maybe she is finally going to leave and become a nomad.
"Quit?" I manage to squeak out. I clear my throat and hope that the next time I speak I sound like a man.
"Yeah," she says, nodding her head and continuing to bite her lip. "My job."
"Job?" I ask, still not quite getting it. But at least now there is hope.
"Being an RA. Well, I sorta quit. Was sorta let go," she admits.
For the first time I notice all the stuff that seems to have exploded in my room. There are large boxes, clothes draped everywhere, and a couple duffels.
"I had more stuff at Hallett than I thought," she muses, following the path of my eyes thoughtfully.
Finally summoning the motor skill to remove my cardigan, I throw it over the back of a chair before taking off my starchy polo. Moving to the closet, I select a more comfortable t-shirt and sweats.
"What happened?" I ask as I change.
"I thought you would ask that," she says with a heavy sign before flopping backward onto the bed. Grinning at her dramatics, I finish changing and lie down next to her so only our shoulders are touching.
"Are you going to make me ask it again?" I inquire, soliciting a little snort of Bella.
"No, I'll tell you. I'm just a little embarrassed," she confesses. I turn my head to look at her, flashing her an encouraging little smile. With a huff, she rolls to face me on her side, supporting the weight of her head on her elbow. "Well, it really all happened because of some fucking chocolate Silk Soy Milk."
I blink at her in confusion and wait for her to go on.
"See, theses two roommates were screaming at each other in the hall after dinner this evening, and being as I am their fucking RA and trained in conflict resolution, I had to fucking deal with it. Turns out Blake- you know Blake. The bitchy one I absolutely loathe that has a thing for you- she is all upset because her roommate, Jenna, supposedly drank all of her Silk Soy Milk. So I do the whole talk it out, clam them down thing, but neither girl is willing to back down. Jenna claims to hate soy and says she would never drink it."
The ludicrousness of this story is starting to make my head hurt, but I listen anyway.
"So they go on and on and on, and suddenly, I fucking snap. I mean, they are fucking arguing about fucking milk. Milk! I just wanted to shake them both and be like 'get some real fucking problems then you talk to me'. Anyway, I started screaming. And I will admit I was out of line and lost it for a minute. But milk, Edward. Milk!"
Frankly, I knew she was bound to snap at some point. No one can keep all of that in and still function for long.
"At one point during my freak out I may or may not have threatened to hold them both down and pour a gallon of whole milk down each of their throats and then smashed their faces in their own filth when they inevitably puked it all back up."
At this, I can't help but laugh.
"It's not fucking funny," she says, punching me in the shoulder. "Threatening a student is very bad."
"I know. I'm sorry, love. But it's just so ridiculous," I say, still chuckling.
Bella cracks a grin, and it's a beautiful sight. I've missed her smiles.
"Then what happened?" I press.
"Well, I had a big long talk with the hall director. And she was like, you're been under so much stress with graduation coming up, and then you took hardly anytime off after your dad passed – why do people fucking say it that way? He fucking died. So we came to the mutual understanding that I am no longer fit to be an RA."
"Bella," I say, tracing my thumb across her cheekbone. "I'm so sorry."
"Naw, it's fine," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I was sick of that shit anyway. I really couldn't handle it. The problems these whiny little bitches have. They all need to collectively suck it the fuck up."
"It's okay to be upset sometimes, love. It's okay to be vulnerable," I murmur, staring in her eyes.
She winces at my words. "No, its really not." I want to refute that point, but she continues to talk. "And now I need somewhere to live."
"Oh really?" I say, rolling to my side and mimicking her position.
"Yes, really," she says, blushing and squirming in discomfort.
"Good thing you have a boyfriend dying to live with you," I murmur as she continues to blush.
"Good thing," she agrees, kissing my nose before hopping out of bed. As run down as she looks, the tight fit and many holes of her jeans sure are hot. "But we have to clear it with the rest of the roomies first. And its only until I can find my own place!"
"This is ridiculous," I reply. "You basically live here anyway. No one is even going to notice a change in the daily life around here."
She ignores my protests, and fifteen minutes Bella has all of the roomies seated together on the living room couch. I stand off to the side, leaning against a wall and observing, while Bella nervously stands in front of them.
"Yo, make this quick! I've got shit to do," says Rosalie.
"What got you all tied up? You're sweatin' like a whore in church," comments Jasper.
"Bella, really, those jeans have got to go," remarks Alice.
"I'm hungry," declares Emmett.
"Will you all just let her speak?" I demand, miraculously getting them all to shut up. "Thank you. Go ahead, love. Ask away."
"Right," says Bella, talking a big breath. She is more animated then I've seen her since the funeral. "Well, due to a minor milk related incident it has been mutually decided by me and my boss that the RA gig is no longer for me."
"She's still an RA? OW! Shit, Rose. Keep your elbows to yourself." I glare at my brother until there is silence once more.
"So, I find myself in need of a place to live. And it would only be temporary, probably just until graduation." I don't like this at all but remain silent. "So… what do you think?"
Her smile is forced and everyone looks on with blank expressions.
"Is she asking to move in here?" clarfies Jasper.
"I thought she already lived here," muses Emmett.
"God, you are an idiot. And this shit is boring. I have midterms coming," says Rosalie, getting up and stalking towards her bedroom door.
"Yeah!" screams Alice, launching herself at Bella. "We are officially roommates again."
And that is how Bella and I moved in together. Ah, progress.
Oh Edward. What are you doing?
And Bella. Damn, I am really torturing her huh? This is not the worst. That comes next chapter, along with a whole lot of answers.
Yup, next chapter is the big one. Should be up next week.
Review? Also, thanks for reading. I seriously love you guys.