*Read this (I/2).
one more wait
and you won't
survive.
-BluF
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the m from p
When a person is bound to you, from time to time the connection can't be seen; little by little and the spine starts to show. The thing about signing a paper is that you're leaving a mark to your own mind, something Renee didn't find peculiarly important. Unstringing a man can be very deceiving: it's a sort of cliché, a custom to only know what is barely shown.
At night in a pond, you don't expect to see a fly eat the frog when it should be the opposite, but Edward does. He watches as the woman kneels and starts scratching the ground, and he can't possibly know how. How do you scratch dirt and death? Renee rarely does it but, as the number three flies in the sky reminding her of the old man's death, she kneels and scars as she did that rainy night in October. Just to remind herself who the hell she was.
Edward is not half the man someone is. He's a boy. If you repeat it ten times, it will become true, or maybe it will lose its meaning.
"What are you doing?" He says, it doesn't sound like a question and rubies look up. He thinks so too.
Rubies.
Maybe. She doesn't know if she should answer, if it's too intimate too talk; he was after all a man, a boy. In days of light she would have looked away, but just for tonight, he would see his own eyes.
Emeralds. So she answered—for the sake of a woman.
"Scaring old sagged skin, to my nails." Flee to my heart, what a beautiful…thing. Edward thought.
Bizarre meetings can go far better than a planed one of similarity. When you lie to somebody, you suddenly become blind. Nobody lied that night. Nobody understood. Lying is hard: you have to, deep down, believe your own lie. The truth comes on easy waves. But Renee decided to stand up and forget physical liberation, recuperating the thought that she had a little Eve at home.
Edward took the lady's hand, taking her up, and telling her in this boyish voice, and nothing but shy, to not kneel but sew the open flesh.
She listened. It was a beautiful thing. For that night, it was.
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Ancient tales speak of marriage—and it is mentioned just as much as sex. It says 'it's a beautiful concept…' marriage that is'… that carries paper in a whole other initiation of a way'. But that is a book not meant to be opened by Renee. The number three hunts her again these days; later, she is walking through this fairly saint hallway.
Edward mews his idea of companionship in a way his mother won't recognize. He needs somebody to use. Might as well be a woman with no nothing. Just like fringe he walks to the same hallway too.
She wouldn't be his philosophy of some sort. It's just a way out.
"Sign here."
Carry me too.
"And here."
I do not come alone.
A mistake. His.
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When one enters a home, it is never a relaxing gesture. The sun didn't help either. Edward stood poised and shy in the small and enormous entry. Because it was both.
Renee felt a little guilty of what she'd done. But if not, Eve's would have come. Women and breasts, and lick, lick.
No.
So she just went right up the stairs without uttering a word to the boy and went to find her rosy bundle. Which in this moment was with open eyes, kneeling at her bathtub.
Bella gave not one but four drops of liquid soap to her water. She liked being clean. Void of any feeling for that moment, she grabbed the towel perched in the cabinet and laid it in the edge. Something was buzzing in her ear and she turned around to notice her phone was ringing, which she ignored. Bella hated talking on a cellular phone and it always was like she didn't believe in it—which was funny, because she didn't know what the word meant, not out of aliveness or age, but rather lack of curiosity. She was clingy and didn't need to cling. She was bound to a tale out of reach for any purpose of a clown.
"Mom…" Turning around Bella witnessed her mother in a state of bemusement. The words after her name were none. "Wha-?'
"Bella, hi. Look: there is someone here you need to meet. My friend. He's very nice and would like to meet you." She said. Nervousness never did work on the symphony that carried Renee.
"Um, ok…" Bella wasn't shy, just very suspicious. Even suspicious of herself. She hid things from her mother in search of doing anything wrong.
The two women descended the stairs. Edward watched, the boy did, as these two stepped with gravity and fell before him.
"Hi." His voice was gruff and splattered, the color red all over the two ladies.
"Hi. Nice to meet you, um…"
"Edward." He complied the request for her to know his name.
"Well, Edward, this is Bella. I hope you two take up well." Renee did and she did ignore the fact she wasn't labeling Bella. Scaring now so early in the day is not a thing of good nature.
"I hope so too." He smiled.
She frowned. Who was he to be here now? She was still sore.
Beautiful woman all over here. Maybe only one is scared and maybe one will fly. Edward wanted an opportunity for something life said was always, you know, there. When they tell you this things, you expect them and you can't expect nothing more.
"So, Edward, why don't you come to the kitchen? Bella will serve you some juice." And that is the honeymoon we all expect.
"Mh." His mother always scolded him on that acknowledging sound of his. What kind of bad raise acceptance is that? Maybe he would stop for now from rephrasing again, that.
As he walked forward. " Bella why don't you go help him, I'm going to go upstairs for a while." Renee did a show of nodding her head once as to make some sort of unknown signal to Bella.
"Hm. Sure, mom" Teenagers always say and think differently to one another, as in actually think an talk separately, as if each concept had another mind.
Bella Swan caught up with the boy, while Renee went up the stairs.
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"Who are you?"
"What do you mean, girl?"
"I am not a girl, Sir." She was not.
"Well, I am not a Sir." He was not.
"Stop with the foolish talking and tell me who are you."
"I'm Edward." He smiled.
"And I'm Bella Swan, fool."
"Who am I…or who are you?" Swan he remembered. Renee Swan. Sisters…
"Stop it!" Indignant to situations that just turn up in this kind of way.
"Weren't you supposed to get me something to drink…?" And he looked at her with eyes that sparkled. She just, of course, grimaced. Nobody was ready yet to speak.
She felt a little absurd just then.
"Sure, sorry. What would you like? We have orange and prune." She offered her least favorites just to take the bile that 'sorry' had left in her tongue. It made her feel much better.
"Mh. Well yes, those are some, um. Do you have water?" She swallowed her laughter; he seemed flustered over juice choice and she wasn't guilty of that. But she still smiled a little, just for good measure.
"Um, sure." The thought of saying no passed on a millisecond through her mind. She walked up to the never-compelling-to-her two door fridge and grabbed the canister with the transparent liquid form, H2o, water. She was a decipher like that.
"Were do you reside?" His voice caught her off guard. What type of question was that one?
She turned around and handed him that crystal clear, too, glass. "Well, here." A skeptical kind of answer for him.
"Oh."
She hummed in response to nothing at itself.
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Renee was at the verge of a cliff. In her mind none the less. She hadn't thought of what to do afterwards. What is it exactly that you do when you marry? Maybe she could fly. Or jump from an actual cliff. Too many chests to do that, though. She ripped that brown box perched on the stool and took a new notebook from it—one of those complementary ones you get on hotels and conferences. She padded for a pocket in the jeans she wore and shoved it down to the very bottom. Later in that same notebook she would write what she felt, just to tear it up again.
A bubble wrap fell to the floor and she decided too take that too then. She didn't know when she would have time to come up there again. She didn't know how much time she had before normality would be in her mind.
Sometimes it's fucked up.
When can this me normal?
For Renee maybe it never would, she did after all just run to a man to forget about a woman. Perhaps it was wrong but what about the promises to her daughter? This wouldn't hurt her, it would bring her peace.
As she did many years ago, Renee fled, but for this time just down the stairs.
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"Would you like a muffin?" Bella wide eyed asked this question. Meant to be asked of course. She was obsessed with the acceptance of this blueberry delectable.
"What kind?" Ah, the follow up question. She smiled.
"Blueberry, Edward." She may have spoke his name just for good measure and it sounded like peaches, it rolled of her tongue.
"I-um, sure" He would eat the damn thing just to please the girl. Edward Anthony hated blueberry's.
He thought he agreed because of the look in her eyes.
She thought he agreed because of blueberries.
As crumbles drop to the floor from the first bite, reason number one for their first lie.
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The first chapters are always for plot purposes. Give it some time. If I told you things will get sweaty in the next chapter, would you review?
Thank You, Mia.
Thank you all. ^_^