I do not own Twilight. I do own, however, a pair of fuzzy pink socks.
Chapter Seven
Edward's face neared mine, and sparks of tension exploded in my stomach, making me shake with both utter distress and tightly coiled anticipation. When his hand touched the back of my neck to draw me closer, though, I went rigid in his arms. The memories washed over me with the brute force of a tidal wave, triggering the terror I had once felt to return and mutilate my mind once more. I felt the hand of another, more aggressive man, holding my neck, squeezing…
Darkness swept before my eyes, and I fought his gentle constraints wildly, kicking and slamming my fists into his chest and seeing the surprise freeze on his face before bolting to the door and struggling with the lock. I felt rather than saw Edward cross the space between us, and pull me from the door despite my crazed shrieks of protest.
When he pushed me down onto the couch, the fury and mindless panic that controlled my entire being rippled in fear as he held me down.
"No, no! Let me go!" I wailed, thrashing violently in his grip. I glimpsed grim determination harden Edward's sharp features, and he held me with an unbreakable hold, until the madness ebbed from my limbs, and I saw who was restraining me. Not an apparition of torment from times past, but a man who was staring down at me with a stricken expression on his face.
I moaned and turned my face downward and pressed it into the couch. I didn't want to face him. Each minute I spent with him was filled with either craving for his presence, fear, or humiliation.
I felt fingers softly stroking the back of my head, and I resisted the urge to lift my head and look at Edward.
"Tell me why you cannot bear to be touched." His voice was soft and cradling, but I knew that the iron edge would reveal itself if I resisted. I shook my head, still pressed to the cushioned fabric, and refused to speak.
As I'd expected, the underlying tone in Edward's voice shifted, becoming steely rather than yielding. "I would have waited for you to tell me at your own speed, but I no longer think that would be the most beneficial thing for you; you're endangering yourself. I told you two highly personal secrets about myself, and yet you tell me nothing. Every time I believe us to have progressed something happens to draw you back into that… that shell of yours. As a friend-or more- tell me, please, what it is that haunts you so," he finished, still running his hand over my hair and down my back. He sounded unbearably frustrated, and at last I dared to meet his eyes. And knew that I could no longer hide this secret from him.
I sat up, and he removed his hand. I felt a twinge of disappointment, but shrugged it away. I grabbed at the brim of my skirts and, still wordless, pulled them upwards. Edward watched me, confusion in his eyes and his posture undeniably tense.
"Bella, stop, what are you do-" he stopped abruptly, when I glared furiously at him.
"I'm showing you. Look." I ordered, the dread I felt fueling my uneasiness and making me brave enough to continue. When I realized just holding the dress up would only hinder me, I yanked the whole thing over my head, disregarding the looks Edward gave me. I was left standing in only my underclothes, red and oddly enough, calm, as though I wasn't showing something that I'd always vowed to keep hidden.
Edward opened his mouth again, probably to demand that I explain myself, when I pointed to the back of my knees. He frowned but kneeled to the ground to see what I was gesturing at. It was intimidating, having him so close to me while mostly unclothed, but I reminded myself it didn't matter. He had seen me in a similar state not all that long ago.
Feeling Edward's still uncomprehending gaze on my bare legs, I finally traced out two fine white lines that twisted in no particular direction, both on the back of my left knee. Then I showed him several more on the other, trying not to squirm beneath his observant gaze.
"Bella, what are you showing me? You were injured as a child?" he speculated, still not understanding. I shook my head and prepared to show him more.
"Look at my back. Closely. And my neck too," I whispered. I waited, unable to see his expression from behind me, and aching with the repressed urge to ask.
For a long time there was only silence behind me, and then I felt hands tracing the marks on my back, making me shiver, and yet I was no longer fearful, or cold. When Edward spoke, it was as if shards of ice were lodged in his voice, splintering into a thousand wintery pieces. "This was no accident, whatever left you scarred and broken. It looks as though you shouldn't even be alive. Who did this to you, Bella?" The cold hard fury of his voice was disturbing, and I knew that I should be fearful. Again, I wasn't. Instead, I offered up the truth that had haunted me for the last seven years.
"Lord Charles Swan. My father."
***
The strain in the room was palpable, and neither of us moved. I, because I still awaiting a response, and Edward seemed frozen- a blank mask of wordless horror, and then slowly, a thawing that changed to the dead fury that had gripped his voice moments before. I could literally see the understanding as it crept through his thoughts, worming its way inside.
"Your father did this to you? Your own father?" he cried, ashen and sounding as though he was going to be ill. I cringed, only for a millisecond it seemed, but Edward still caught the motion and immediately stood, and picked up my dress from where it was laying tangled and forgotten on the floor. Instead of taking it, I stood too, hands clenched.
"Since I was ten. My mother never stopped him. She didn't even try," I forced out from between my numb, shaking lips. "You didn't see them before because it was dark the only time I was ever this revealed to you. And I took great pains to keep them hidden." I added, finally explaining what covered my back. A multitude of white or pink scars, carved deep into the skin, from my neck to my knees. "They healed well, because a doctor attended them. Always the same doctor. And now, do you see what is wrong with me? I thought all men were like him…but I was wrong. And yet, I still sometimes cannot bear your touch. I feel like he is there, ready to leave another scar."
He listened to my every word before walking over to his desk. For a moment, my confusion reigned freely, for it looked as if he was merely getting something. Instead, he slammed his curled fist into the desk with enough force that the jars of ink rattled and one nearly tipped. Disregarding this, I wondered why he seemed so tortured. How much did he really care?
When he turned around, my legs, unbidden, carried me to him. It didn't matter that I was so underdressed. I just slid into his arms, holding myself to him. In response I felt his muscular arms go around my shoulders, easily felt through the thin shift that hid very little of my body.
"Why is it that I can sometimes hold you, but other times it triggers a…reaction, whatever you wish to call it?" I shook my head despairingly.
"I don't know. I only know that you scared me. Maybe now that you know about my past, I will panic less," I murmured the only consoling thing that I could think of. I would have rather focused on the warmth that was Edward's arms around me.
When Edward led me back to the couch, I glances at it and ran my fingers along the edges of the light gold fabric, thinking about how it already contained several memories for me- both good and bad.
I sat down, with Edward next to me, and wondered how to say what I was so desperate to have out of me, drifting in the air between us. I started by accepting the pale cotton dress from Edward, and waited until I was fully clad to begin.
"Edward. I know that I'm…for lack of a better word, broken, on the inside. But you are piecing me together, like no else has before. No one else has ever even tried. And you make me feel…" I struggled to find the right word to use. There were none that came to mind so I improvised. "strange, in the pit of my belly, but in a good way. And I feel impulses, and wants, that I could never have imagined. I actually want to be with you, and not just because I feel safe around you."
At my admission, I waited for Edward to speak. The trembling that started in my lower belly spread throughout my entire being as the Lord Edward Masen gathered me up in his arms and kissed me. And, despite every circumstance that declared otherwise, I kissed him back.
***
Two weeks later…
"Let me see!" I giggled, a relatively new way for me to express myself. Around Edward and Alice, I was open, revealing more of my character than I'd ever expected. In the presence of even one other person, even a servant, I snapped shut like a clam and attached myself to Edward's arm. I didn't want to look needy to the people who saw us, but I appreciated the fact that Edward never seemed to mind. He assured me that he would rather have me with him than to have a distant, unfeeling wife. The truth was, I couldn't stand being away. His mere presence soothed me, made me feel safe and calm. He was like the antidote to my poisoned soul, keeping at bay the relentless wariness of others.
Alice was the only other one that knew about me and my scarred interior and aided me regardless. Despite this powerful bond the tiny person had managed to forge between us, that did nothing to alleviate my annoyance as the pair that pieced my life back together led me through the now familiar corridors with my eyes covered.
"We're almost there!" the dark-haired girl trilled. She reminded me of a fairy, or a pixie perhaps. Something small and mischievous.
I felt the cool air of early morning touch my face, and would have glared at her if I could see. They both knew how much I hated surprises. "Where are we going?" I asked. Other than the gardens, I rarely left the house. I knew I wasn't being led to the gardens because the air lacked powerful, earthy smells, and the sweet scent of late-summer blooms.
A heard a deep, throaty chuckle behind me as I complained about my lack of sight. Suddenly Edward lifted his hands from my eyes and I gazed uncomprehendingly at a tall, brick structure with huge wooden doors that were hanging wide open. The smell of hay and animals permeated the air.
Edward and Alice laughed at the look on my face.
"Come on, hurry up!" Alice squealed, already trying to drag me into what I now saw was a stable. I offered no resistance, and soon we were walking down the long rows of horses that the Masens-which meant Edward-owned, for riding and pulling carriages. I peered at the engraved copper name plates that were embedded into the wood of each stall. Rocky, Thunder, Matilda, Bear, Silky, Rosebud, Smallheart, I read to myself. Alice suddenly stopped in front of the one labeled Pegasus.
"This is my horse." She declared proudly, stroking the nose of a little white speckled mare that was more likely a pony than a horse. I laughed at her. "Pegasus? Who named it?" I asked. She pouted at me, obviously put out a little at my amusement.
"She did, a few years ago." Edward told me, because Alice was now bounding off again, not waiting for us. When our unhurried pace brought us to another stall, she was already recovered from her little fit. She pointed at the nameplate of this one. Silver Bells, it read.
"And this, Bella, is your horse."
I gasped. Mine? I leaned over stall's lower door. The horse, who was undoubtedly much larger than Pegasus, was a soft grey, with darker dapples adorned her back and rump. Her mane and tail were a flowing black that were matched only by the midnight sky. I gazed at her, transfixed, and softly rubbed her velvety nose. She whickered and nuzzled my arm, then rested her large head on my shoulder and blew at my hair. I drew back with a little laugh of delight.
"She likes you," I heard Edward say.
"Is she really mine?" I asked. At Edward's and Alice's twin nods, I almost squealed; I was acting enough like Alice that it scared me.
Then my face fell. "I can't ride though." I sighed, looking back at the beautiful horse dejectedly. Alice just grinned and waited. Edward, with the skill of much practice, hid his surprise at my lack of ability. It was becoming almost expected for me to not know most of what many young lords and ladies did.
"We can teach you. And we'll have to call the mare Silver because Bella is your nickname," he teased, but I saw the twinkle in his shining eyes. An unbidden thought entered my mind . I was starting to wonder how my world could get any better-or worse.
***
"Tomorrow?" I asked reluctantly. Edward nodded, and I resisted the urge to touch his face, even in the privacy of our own rooms. After a moment, I gave in, and lightly traced the contours of his well-defined cheekbones and jaw. He looked down at me, amused, and put his own hands to my face. He nearly always waited for me to initiate contact; it was easier on both of us, knowing that I wouldn't lose it again like I had that horrible day in the study, though it had been necessary for both of us to show the hidden parts of our souls, and now we were both better off for it.
My comfort around him was only growing, and though I would now change my outer clothes in the same room as him, and I was nearly glued to his side, we never moved past kissing, though we'd only done that a handful of rare times. It was just the way we were; I wasn't ready for more, and he wasn't planning on anything that would crush the once fragile seeds of trust planted between us.
"You'll like them. Emmett is a doctor, and his wife, Rosalie, has known Alice and I for a long time," he murmured, still rubbing his thumbs against my cheeks. A red blush-now my trademark reaction- rose in my skin.
"I thought that Emmett might be able to recommend something for your scars, to help them fade," he added. I only nodded, because he had mentioned this before. "But Rosalie..well, she is rather…aggressive, unless you know her. She has handled her difficult past in a different way than you."
I swallowed uneasily. If Edward called her aggressive, when he was so accepting, that meant she was very, very much so. And I wondered how many more troubled people-like Rosalie and Jasper and myself- he could have possibly befriended.
Thinking of Jasper sent another chilled shiver down my spine. He terrified me. And if Rosalie was any worse, I wasn't sure I would be capable of handling more people stepping into my already polarized life.
Notes: So Bella is defintely changing! Even though the revelations of the past few chapters have seemed big, they're nothing in comparison to what's the whole plot is centered around!
So how was it? You know I love your opinions! Keep up the reviewing! Who likes the horse being brought into the story?
R&R!