SM owns.
Thank you to Sunflower Fanfiction & Mari who do way too much for me.
I decided the name of this chapter forever ago when a reader mentioned it to me in a review. I can't find it to give the proper credit, but know that I'm thankful to you, whoever you are.
So, the site has been having some issues. Some people have PM'd me telling me they can't see the update. Others can't review. Let's give this another try. (Yes, that means this is the same chapter that I posted earlier, for those who are able to see it both)
Enjoy the final regular chapter.
Stripped Desire – Chapter 25: Renaissance
"And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time."
Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing.~
Edward stands next to me, marking his territory without speaking or touching. He doesn't have to. Mike has seen everything.
I mumble a quick introduction and they shake hands.
"Can we talk for a second?" Mike asks, glancing at Edward. I step up, into his line of vision.
"Yes," I say and motion him to walk ahead.
Edward holds my hand before I have a chance to follow Mike. I squeeze his fingers for a moment, assuring him I'm fine.
He takes a deep breath, kisses the back of my head, and walks in the other direction where an art supply store is conveniently located.
"You're here," Mike says when I reach him.
"You came." He looks so surprised, staring at me as if I'm a mirage. It's the first time I've seen him look at me like that. Maybe it's the first time I've noticed. I've started to notice a lot more since I met Edward.
"Yeah," I say, buttoning my coat.
"How are you?" He steps closer.
"You look good," he adds, studying me.
I nod.
"I am good. You?"
"I'm, yeah, I'm good," he says and steps back again. He stands beside me, looking to the street. I follow his gaze, but I end up looking at Edward. "I thought you wouldn't come. I didn't know if I should've invited you." He looks at me.
"I wasn't expecting an invitation to be honest," I say, moving hair out of my face.
"I wanted to see you. I didn't know any other way," he says, smoothing invisible creases on his tuxedo. "You never gave me a chance to apologize."
I sigh.
"For choosing the safe bet instead of me? How would you even go about that?"
Anger flashes in his eyes for a second, his jaw tensing before he speaks.
"You weren't in love with me," he says and his blue eyes are colder than ever. "I was going to risk everything for someone who didn't love me."
His answer, though expected, is enough to leave me speechless.
I can't argue with that.
"Well," I say, looking away from him. "There you go."
We stand in silence for a second, me looking at the general direction where Edward walked. He emerges from the art supply store with a bag, and I chuckle to myself.
"An artist?" Mike asks.
I look at him.
"A painter?"
I smile.
"Yeah."
"You look happy—in love. I never made you smile like that."
I look down. No one ever has.
"You should be angry with me," Mike says. "I should be angry with you."
We laugh.
"We're fine," I say and realize I mean it. It's impossible for me to be mad about not being married to Mike. Not when what I have now is so much better.
"You won't stay?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
Edward chooses that moment to lock his eyes with me. "I think not," I say, wanting to run toward my beautiful boyfriend.
I find it in me to be polite for another minute and look at my ex-fiancé to say goodbye.
"Take care, Bella," he says.
"You too, Mike."
I start a quick walk toward Edward, picking up momentum and speed until it turns into a full sprint.
Edward turns to face me just when I reach him. I grab his arm and pull him with me.
"Hey? What's up?" he asks, following me.
"Let's go," I say, not slowing down.
"What? Where?" he asks.
I slow down for a second to think of where we're going. I haven't thought that far. I just knew there was no reason for us to be at Michael's wedding.
The realization makes me laugh and before I know it, I've decided where I want to be.
I stop, making Edward lose his footing for a second, and face him. Stepping even closer to him, I kiss his lips.
"You'll see," I say, smiling.
And then, I'm running again, feeling careless and free, leaving my past behind me.
Edward struggles to catch up, his shock and curiosity making him slow.
"Hey, wait!" he yells, trying to hold me back.
"Come on!"
He gives up on the questioning and follows me, matching my speed with ease after he's not talking.
My muscles start to ache with the sudden exercise and my heart is racing. Maybe it was a bad idea to run the entire way, but I didn't want to stop and think.
I just wanted to do.
The familiar building waits ahead of us, just two blocks away. I smile when I spot the big entrance.
Why hadn't I thought of it before?
"We're here," I say.
Edward and I stop in front of the locked door for a second before I walk around searching for a way to get in.
He looks at me, dying to question me once more, holding a bag of art supplies that rattle with each step he takes.
He's losing his patience with me, and I second-guess just how worth the mystery will be.
After several failed attempts, we manage to break in. Once inside, I walk with confidence to the room I want.
The door is unlocked.
The place is deserted.
I take both facts as a sign that we were meant to be here.
"What—" Edward starts when we walk inside.
"Don't talk, please," I say, placing two of my fingers on his lips. I look around the first ballet studio I ever danced in, and then back to Edward. "Just… just stand there, okay?"
He must see the urgency in my eyes because he stops frowning and schools his features in a serene expression.
"Okay," he says and nods.
He looks around the studio, studying it before locking his gaze on me. He watches me as I take off my coat, my scarf and my shoes. As much as his determined stare intimidates me, it still manages to give me courage—to get me high on excitement.
Showtime.
I take a deep breath, count to three, and start moving.
There's no music, but the more I move, the more I can feel it bubbling up inside me.
I hear it vibrating under my bones.
Edward's piercing green eyes, the adrenaline coursing through me, and the beating of my heart form the most beautiful symphony.
I don't need music.
His presence is enough to guide me.
My feet carry me across the studio with ease. My body elongates with as much grace as it can to portray Rose's choreography.
I lose track a couple of times, but I keep dancing, determined to finish the routine for Edward—for me.
After I get to the last sequence, I walk closer to Edward, finishing the movements slowly until I'm standing in front of him.
His breathing is as labored as mine.
His eyes look as alive as I feel.
I have never been so exposed in my life.
"Isabella," he whispers and touches my cheek. I turn my face and kiss his tattooed-wrist.
He groans.
I search his lips with my own while unbuttoning his shirt, eager to have him. We undress one another with slow movements until we're naked.
He starts with his eyes, drinking in every inch of my nude body with his lustful gaze.
"When was the last time someone touched you deeper than your skin?" he asks, lowering his face to kiss my neck.
"Now," I say, gripping his hair. "Anytime you touch me. Anytime you breathe."
My words must snap something inside him because he groans against my skin and picks me up until I wrap my legs around his waist.
He kisses me; lips, teeth, and tongue with unparalleled passion.
Without breaking our kiss, he lays me down. My back sticks to the wooden floor as heat threatens to consume me from the inside out.
I'm burning up with need and lust and so much more.
Freedom.
Edward's tongue traces patterns on my skin and I swear I'm losing my mind.
It's too much, too soon and not enough, all at once.
I push him and pull him, wanting to be in control, wanting to surrender. Edward notices my restlessness and holds me in place underneath him, burying his face between my legs.
He makes me scream until my throat hurts.
He grins at me, nipping the inside of my thigh.
I pull his hair.
He sits up and takes my hand to maneuver my body the way he wants.
I end up on my stomach with his body covering my back. Edward trails kisses all over my spine, moving my hair out of the way to lick my neck.
My skin breaks out in goose bumps.
He turns my face until our eyes meet in our reflections.
I take a deep breath, overwhelmed.
My emotions are on the surface. It feels like he can grab hold of them.
He pushes inside me, supporting his weight with a hand on the floor, and I grip his fingers.
I want to climb under his flesh.
I want to scratch his passion and devour it.
We move on the floor, surrounded by mirrors and the echo of our lovemaking.
"Fuck," he says, looking down and up, as if he can't decide which view is better.
I can. I stare at his green eyes in the glass and get high on the feeling that glows inside them.
"I need you closer," I whisper when he tries to get some distance between us to get leverage. He nods, and instead of pulling out, he rotates his hips, grinding on me with sensual strokes.
He fucks me like he kisses me, soft and languid, as if the seduction part will never end. He moves me until I'm on my back again, looking up at him.
My mouth opens in a silent cry when he thrusts harder. The combination of his touch and his intense stare are more than enough to disarm me.
"Do you know what you do to me?" he asks, hiding his face in my shoulder. I rake my nails down his back. He groans. "Fuck. What the hell have you done to me?"
I make an incoherent sound.
"I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready for you," he says, sounding desperate.
I try to speak, to tell him I wasn't ready for him.
Not even close.
But his movements speed up, his teeth clamp down on my skin and I'm lost, unable to find words.
And then he speaks again, sending tremors down my spine.
"I've been looking for you," he says. "My muse."
"Oh God. God." I move with him and wrap my arms around his back as tight as I can.
Pleasure starts building.
My scalp tingles
My toes curl.
I come, looking at his green eyes.
He follows me over the cliff soon after, gripping my body until he finishes his release.
We cling to one another for a few seconds, breathless and spent.
This is what heaven must feel like.
"Isabella," he says, pulling away to search my eyes. "That was… wow." He shakes his head and kisses from my forehead to my chin.
"Yeah?" It's all I manage to say, wondering if he's talking about the dance or the sex.
"I love you," he says, sealing the moment with the honesty of his voice. He starts to sit up as if he needs to be in a different position for this conversation.
I pull him back on top of me, needing the safety of his weight. I caress the side of his face and lock my eyes with his.
"I love you, too. So much."
The green of his eyes seems to come alive after my words, even more so than they usually are.
He smiles and kisses me, resting his forehead on mine for a second before sitting up.
We walk to the changing room of the studio to clean up and get dressed. I take him on a tour of the dance school, showing him my favorite spots and the things that have changed since I was here.
I tell him about all the recitals I came to as a spectator after having failed as a possible dancer. He kisses my hand and tells me that to him I'll always be better than all of them.
Once outside, the air is colder than before and it dawns on us we have a plane to catch tomorrow morning. It makes me sad, because I feel like our trip just started. I'm brewing with ideas of places to take him, feeling free and truly independent.
"We don't have to leave tomorrow," he says.
"What? You want to reschedule our flight?" I ask.
He laughs. "I was thinking of taking the bus."
I give him a serious look before joining him in his laughing. "Let's take the bus," I say.
The sentence is insignificant, but it conveys so much to us.
"You want to take the bus back to New York with me?" he asks, looking at me with trepidation and concealed excitement.
Silly boy.
Still so insecure about my feelings for him.
I guess it's my own fault.
I take both of his hands in mine and make him wrap his arms around my waist. We stand outside the dance academy as the sun starts to set.
"Edward," I say, locking my eyes with his. "I want to go with you to wherever you take me."
He smiles and kisses me.
"You'll just have to wait," he says, stepping away from me.
I frown then chuckle when he fishes his art supplies out of the bag and sits down in the middle of the sidewalk to sketch me.
I'm wearing all my clothes, but I'm not hiding.
I'm stripped bare to him.
Edward sees me.
He has seen me from day one.
He always has.
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm a bit emotional so just... bear with me.
I'll try to be simple about this: THANK YOU to everyone for their support, the reviews, the recs, following the story. So many people has rec'd this story. I wish I could name you all. I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for getting and understanding these characters and for being patient with the pace of the story. This is what I had in mind, this is where the story went in my head, and I'm thankful that you accepted and loved it. I'm so humbled, honored and happy. Thank you.
LovelyBrutal & Gingerandgreen, who started out as pre-readers and gave me so many good things to think about. Thank you for the constant support.
Sunflower Fanfiction, who jumped ahead one day in the middle of one of my stories and has become one of go-tos for questions about what I write, even when she still insists on making me use semi colons. I love you and thank you. I don't have words to explain how happy I am that you trust my writing and saw something in me worth a shot.
Mari my lovely editor and fellow rockstar and overall amazing friend, thank you so so much for being the person that you are and occupying the place that you have in my life. You believe in me and that's a priceless feeling. Thank you for putting up with me and listening to my rants and picking out names and quotes and deleting adverbs and not killing me for making you do stuff over and over for me. I love you. And yes, I wrote no commas in this paragraph just to give you something to do.
Sarah|LittleGreyAche, who sent me the picture that started it all, and held my hand through the process, and has celebrated each accomplishment I've made with this story with me. Thank you for inspiring me in more ways than one. I love you like the last slice of pizza.
And again, thank you to everyone reading. You make my day. You make me smile. You make me want to keep going to bed late at night when all I want to do is go to sleep. I'm so glad you took on this journey with Artistward & Numberella (as I call them in my head) and liked it.
Epilogue will be up next Wednesday.
See you next time.
xo