Oh. My. God. TEN REVIEWS IN ONE DAY?! I LOVE YOU PEOPLE! None of the chapters will be that long again...Trust me.
Chapter Two
I woke early, from a deep and dreamless sleep, feeling well-rested, but stiff. I was on the couch tucked under the blankets I'd laid out for Carlisle, and I could hear him and Charlie talking in the kitchen. It sounded like Charlie was making him breakfast.
"Carlisle, he isn't coming back, too, is he?" Charlie asked, sighing.
"No. He doesn't even know that I'm here. The last time I spoke with him, he was somewhere in South America," Carlisle answered in a soft, reassuring tone.
"That's something, at least." Charlie snorted. "Well, I hope he's enjoying himself."
For the first time, Carlisle's voice had a bit of steel in it. "I wouldn't make assumptions, Charlie." I knew how his eyes would flash when he used that tone.
A chair scooted from the table, scraping loudly across the floor. I pictured Charlie getting up; there was no way Carlisle would make that kind of noise. The faucet ran, splashing against a dish.
It didn't sound like they were going to say anything more about Edward, so I decided it was time to wake up.
I turned over, bouncing against the springs to make them squeak. Then I yawned loudly.
All was quiet in the kitchen.
I stretched and groaned.
"Carlisle?" I asked innocently; the soreness rasping in my throat added nicely to the charade.
"I'm in the kitchen, Bella," Carlisle called, no hint in his voice that he suspected my eavesdropping. But he was good at hiding things like that.
Charlie had to leave then--he was helping Sue Clearwater with the funeral arrangements. It would have been a very long day without Carlisle. He never spoke about leaving, and I didn't ask him. I knew it was inevitable, but I put it out of my mind.
We were sitting on the couch, when I looked over at Carlisle. I had never really noticed until now how unbelievably gorgeous he was. He was even slightly more beautiful than...him.
I was trying my hardest to get over him. It wasn't easy.
Carlisle noticed my grimace. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just...thinking..." I trailed off, fiddling with my fingers.
"About what?" He sounded mildly curious. I looked up at him and blushed, which was embarrassing.
"Nothing," I repeated.
He went silent, as if he were thinking about something. I looked up at him through my hair. I felt like a teen-age girl. Well, I'm eighteen. I'm technically a teen.
"Are you hungry?" Carlisle asked out of the blue. I hadn't really expected him to ask me that.
"Sort of..." I was a bit hungry.
"Would you like me to cook you something?" I looked up at him again. He had a small smile on his face.
"You can cook?" Stupid question.
"Of course. I'm three hundred and sixty three. I should know how to cook by now," he teased. I giggled, and it sounded weird. I haven't laughed or giggled for a while.
He got up gracefully, and went into the kitchen. I was about to ask him if he needed any help, when he asked, "Where are the pans?"
"Third cupboard on your left, Carlisle," I told him. "I'm going to go take a shower, all right?"
"Your lunch will be ready by then."
I took off up the stairs--only tripping three times--and made my way into the bathroom.
The warm water cascading down my back helped me calm down slightly. I didn't know why I was acting like this. It was just Carlisle after all. Just Carlisle.
The thought of him downstairs made me have to calm down again. It felt like the night after the meadow--I stopped myself. No revisiting memory lane. I wrapped my arms around my chest, and tried to control my breathing. Carlisle could probably hear it, and would think that I was suffocating or something.
I quickly got out and wrapped a towel around myself, and sat down on the closed toilet seat. I wrapped my arms around myself again.
It usually wasn't this bad, but because the memory I had started on had been such a good one--it probably made it worse.
I got dressed, and went to the living room. Carlisle was still in the kitchen as I wrapped my arms around myself again.
This had to stop if I was ever going to get over--I stopped, trying to decide if thinking it would make it worse. I decided that it would be best to just think it, and be done with it--Edward.
The pain ripped through my torso, and I wished that I hadn't even thought at all. I was gasping for breath, as if my lungs were closed up. That brought Carlisle in.
"Bella, what's wrong? Your breathing isn't normal." He sat down beside me, and I leaned onto his chest.
He wrapped his arms around me. I let out a small sob. I usually didn't cry, either. I had gotten past that, for the most part, anyway.
"Bella, what's wrong? You can tell me anything," Carlisle said, rubbing small circles on my back.
"I thought...about the...wrong thing," I managed to get out through the tears. I wrapped my arms around Carlisle, hoping that it would make the pain lessen. And to my surprise, it did.
"What do you mean you thought about the wrong thing?" He sounded confused.
"If I think about...him, it feels like I'm breaking...falling apart," I told him.
"You don't deserve this, Bella. You really don't deserve this pain." Carlisle squeezed me.
"Are you sure? I'm starting to think that I have done something to make the hugher powers mad at me."
"Bella, you are the purest person I know. You can't have done anything to deserve this. My son, on the other hand..." He drifted off, starting to sound a little angry.
I pulled my head from his shoulder. "Thank you." He looked confused. "For staying. For existing. For telling me that I don't deserve this."
He pressed his lips to my forehead, and where they had touched, burned, as if his touch were hot, not cold. "Your lunch is ready."
"Oh!" I had forgotten about that. "What did you make me?"
"Macaroni and cheese," he responded, getting up and walking to the kitchen. I followed him automatically.
I sat down in one of the mismatched kitchen chairs, as Carlisle deposited the bowl and a glass of milk in front of me.
"It looks delicious! Thank you." I took a bite. It was good. Better than mine. "You're a better cook than I am, Carlisle."
He smiled and sat down. "I consider that a compliment." He grinned even bigger, showing off his perfect white teeth. "Do you have any plans on what we are going to do today?"
"Well, I need to clean the bathroom..." The bathroom showed the biggest sign of neglect.
"The we'll clean the bathroom."
"Okay. Well, I'm going to finish, and then we'll go clean that bathroom." Carlisle was being very nice about this. It made me grateful.
About twenty minutes later, I was wrist deep in Comet on the floor of the bathroom. Carlisle was scrubbing the sink. The phone rang from downstairs. I got up to answer it, but I, being myself, tripped over my own two feet.
I hit Carlisle, and I grabbed his shirt, and he came down with me. I ended up underneath him, as the phone rang on down below.
I looked up at him. This was awkward. Really awkward.
Carlisle quickly got up, and helped me stand.
I rushed downstairs, and answered the phone.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Hi, Bella."
"Alice!" I couldn't conceal my excitement.
"Is Carlisle there?" she asked, a hint of anger in her voice.
"Yes. I will get him." I turned around, but he was already there. I handed him the phone.
He was speaking too fast for me to understand. He held the phone out for me. "She wants to talk to you again."
I took the phone. "Yes?"
"Well, I just had this vision..." Alice sounded slightly chipper. She was a bit down before I had given Carlisle the phone.
"Yes?"
"Carlisle and you were on the floor, and he was on top of you. Care to explain that?" Alice was definitely chipper, and very curious.
"I tripped." I gave her the most normal answer. "I promise."
"Yeah, yeah. Look, I've got to go. I may call tomorrow. 'Bye," Alice said.
"'Bye." And I hung up.
After we cleaned the bathroom, we were on the couch again, and I had my head on Carlisle's shoulder. We were watching 'Monsters Inc.' I was half asleep.
"Bella? Should you go up to your room?" Carlisle asked me, his voice rumbling in his chest.
"No. I'm comfortable here." I wound my finders into his shirt to prove my point.
He sighed.
I slipped off into another oblivion, this time, with dreams.
Is she going to have a bad dream or what? Sorry, it's 6am, and I haven't slept at all.
