A/N: i'm going to start posting a song per chapter that inspired me, because i dig music and i dig twilight and i dig fanfic so i think it will make a trifecta of harmonious glory. this chapter is one of my favorites as far as developing edward's character goes. it kind of shows how quirky and stupid and just...edward-y he is. so i hope you like it :)
song:
'wake up' by arcade fire

EPOV

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, as sure as my own birthday, I knew that face.

Alice had this look that was both permanent and out-of-place on her usual drooped snarl, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. She was literally almost flying around the fucking kitchen, twirling and singing and doing all this other weird shit that would have been fine without a question a month ago. But these days, she was depressed and reclusive and strange, so the whole twirly happy shit was just plain wrong.

I knew what was going on. I knew it. And it both made me happy for her and it also made me want to kick Jasper Hale's ass.

Alice was completely and undoubtedly post-coital. Her fucking heel clicking was proof of that.

"What the hell is wrong with you, woman?" Emmett bellowed as we sat together at the kitchen island. It was Sunday afternoon, just over three weeks since I learned what Bella's lips felt like, and Carlisle was on some bonding boat trip thing with Dr. Gerandy and Esme was at her office catching up on all of the work she was putting off to stay home with him. Emmett scooped a bite of Cap'N Crunch into his mouth, slurping noisily.

"Nothing," Alice giggled, her body positively shaking with bliss. I rolled my eyes as I picked a cold pizza-flavored Hot Pocket to bits with my fingers, anxious to get out of there and away from Alice's pleasure-fest.

"Isn't it obvious, Em?" I scoffed. "Alice got laid." Alice yelped a high-pitched squeal of shock at my barefacedness, and I heard Emmett's spoon drop from his hand.

"Is it true?" he asked gruffly, lifting up one side of his face to look at her. I knew then that it was a mistake to be sitting between the two of them—Emmett was huge and Alice was a yeller. She leered at him, popping a grape into her tiny mouth and chewing it slowly before answering.

"Not like I'd tell you, anyways," she sang, the smug grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

"Jasper Hale is fucking dead," he muttered, pushing his bar stool away from him as he turned to leave the kitchen. I was surprised he didn't finish scarfing down his cereal, first.

"Emmett, calm the fuck down. It's no big deal," I called after him with a bored tone. He turned so quickly to face Alice and I that it was almost inhuman.

"Alice is a child, Edward. Jasper is too old for her and she's not responsible enough for…that." His eyes were wide with aberrant rage, and it was odd to see him so angry when he generally hadn't a care in the world.

"I'm not a kid, Emmett. You're a fucking year older than me. I know what a fucking condom is, I'm not an idiot." Alice sounded irritated, and her smile had turned into a sneer, but I could see it still in the light of her eyes.

"Do you even know the kind of shit he does, Alice?" Emmett hollered, pounding one huge fist on the granite counter top. For a second, I thought the stone would break from the impact. "He's a filthy son-of-a-bitch, and I don't want you to see him anymore."

"He's your friend," Alice accused with an eye roll.

"Yeah, he is. And he's no fucking good for you."

"You're wrong."

Oh Jesus. Why did I have to be there? I should have just gotten up and ran to my bedroom, but I knew that Emmett would bitch me out later about 'not having his back' or some other stupid shit like that. So I stayed put, chewing my Hot Pocket, looking back and forth between the two of them like a tennis match.

"No, Alice! I know what I'm talking about. Jasper fucks and ducks. I know him. He's not good enough for you." Emmett was shaking, his brown eyes swimming furiously.

"Obviously he doesn't, Emmett, considering he came back for round two last night."

I wanted to both plug my ears and throw up all the pizza sauce tossing around in my stomach. Alice severely lacked a brain filter, but out of choice rather than a Bella-like case where it was merely accidental. Alice had no shame, or dignity, and bragging about her sex life seemed to be included in that. It made me sick.

"Agh!" Emmett shouted, shoving his fists to his temples. "Shut the hell up, Alice. You're fucking disgusting." Alice shot him an impish grin as Emmett flitted around angrily, sitting lazily at the bar stool and popping grapes into her mouth one by one.

"Calm down, Em," I piped up, my tone still uninterested. "You can't screw around with Alice's friend and then get all pissy when she does the same thing with yours."

"So I guess you're on her side now, huh?" he asked, his brow furrowing into his deep-set eyes. "I'm looking out for her, and you're passing it off as no big deal."

"It isn't, really. I've pretty much fucked around with everyone Jasper has. Following in his footsteps, if you will." I cracked a smile, wondering where I'd suddenly found the balls I'd just grown. Maybe it was a result of sheer boredom from the monotony that was Emmett and Alice bickering. I wanted to spice things up a bit. "He doesn't have any secret STDs or anything," I continued. "He's not a complete asshole."

"Yeah, he's not. But you are." And he left the room.

I was sure that there was more bothering Emmett than Alice getting busy with our childhood friend. I was still shocked that she'd even admitted it, but it was unlike Emmett to get so worked up over anything, even if it was our sister and her…was 'experimenting' the right word? I couldn't think of any other way to put it. But he'd remained pretty sane beneath the roof of the Cullen household as we all wallowed in our individual pain. Carlisle was about to start treatment, and while I wondered why he was so hesitant to fight the cancer, I though that the therapy would lift everyone's spirits. I talked to Emmett daily, and I knew he and Rose were doing pretty well. Sure, she was a selfish, narcissistic bitch-and-a-half, but she was good for him. She was sort of an outlet for Emmett, someone to ease his pain. But maybe it was worse than I'd assumed. His little episode has just revealed that.

I told Bella about the whole thing that night over the phone. She giggled hysterically like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard, telling me a similar story to when she'd once had to referee her mother and Phil's argument. I loved it when she did that shit. She let me in, opening up pieces of skin and bone and muscle that hid her away from me. I always had to prompt her to keep going, and I'm sure she thought that I was getting tired of her talking all the time. She didn't believe me when I told her I loved hearing her talk, and I could almost feel her blush through the receiver. I wanted to talk to her all night, but her cute little yawns and slurred speaking indicated that she was wiped out. I was reluctant to let her go—Carlisle wouldn't be home in time to come up that night and I would have hours of uninterrupted thinking time, Bella's hollow eyes burning holes in my brain the entire time.

Fuck fuck fucking fuck. I knew I should have kept her on the line. The house was a ghost town like that one Monday night the last week of summer, and it was excruciating. But this time, Emmett wasn't speaking to me and there were no blank checks for pizza waiting for me downstairs. I missed the sounds of my mother moving in the kitchen, Carlisle's footsteps from his study echoing up the stairs. I couldn't hear Emmett's bellowing laughter, or Alice's chirpy voice chattering into the telephone. It was like someone had died. Although that was an inappropriate way of describing the silence of my house, considering the circumstances we were all under, it was a perfect analogy. No doubt, Alice and Em were still angry from the chaos of the evening, and I knew I wouldn't see them at least until morning. Emmett would probably bolt out early to avoid us, and it was slightly ridiculous.

I glanced over at the clock. It was only 11:15, and I cursed myself for the cup of coffee I'd drank before coming up. Fucking caffeine. I shifted on my bed, trying to find different positions to get comfortable, but to no avail. I even translated a quarter of book one of Paradise Lost, which was irritating beyond measure, but at least it got some schoolwork out of the way. There was absolutely no way I'd join the damned Cult of Domesticity again and bake a batch of cookies, and I was sort of afraid to leave the room. My siblings were emotional roller coasters, and it intimidated me. Plus, Carlisle and Esme had now been home for a while, doing whatever they did to prepare to settle in for the night. I had no idea what I was going to do.

Like clockwork, almost like a sign from God himself, my cell vibrated against the carpet across the room from where it was plugged into the wall. I rolled off the bed, padding toward the outlet and ripping the charger jack from it. A fierce smile ripped over my face, my cheeks warming as I read the name on the text message alert.

New TXT MSG from: Bella.

There was a God.

With anxious fingers, I flipped the face open to the keypad, my fingers stumbling stupidly as I tried to open the message.

Can't sleep after all, it said. Come over?

God bless Bella Swan. Had she somehow known that she was etched in my brain? That she fucking stared at me all day and night as I restlessly tossed and turned? My life was beginning to sound like some stuffy romance novel, and it made me feel pussy-whipped. But at least it was Bella who was slowly, but surely whipping me. Not like I'd ever tell her that.

Now? I replied, the same smile still splashed foolishly across my cheeks. Almost instantly, she buzzed a reply.

Duh, now.

Oh god. It was irresponsible and stupid and I knew Carlisle and Esme would flip shit if they found out I crawled through some girl's window in the middle of the night, never mind that it was two stories off the ground. But I needed her now, and my chest pulled me towards her no matter where she was. These illegitimate and poorly thought-out reasons brought me behind the wheel of the Volvo by 1 AM. It was even later than last time, and I managed to slip by my parents' bedroom with barely a creak of the wood beneath my feet. I knew I wouldn't be caught, and even if by some chance I was, I didn't care. It would be like Emmett to snoop around and tattle on me like a child, but that didn't stop me, either.

It was fucking cold outside. Colder than usual for Forks, and, surprise, surprise, it was raining. I parked my conspicuous silver car around the corner from her house, almost running to her lawn as the mist trickled uncomfortably down the back of my hoodie.

Bella was a saint. A ladder, like the kind you buy in case of a house fire, was hanging from her open window, the muted glow of her tableside lamp casting shadows on the dark grass below. Maybe, just maybe, I could make it up this time without injuries. Perhaps even this time I could avoid getting the shit kicked out of me by a hundred-and-ten pound girl.

She was standing with her back to me, pulling a shirt off over her head, when I pulled myself up through the window. I had no idea how she hadn't heard my less than graceful ascent up the old chain ladder, or even my grunts as I hoisted myself over the sill, but I was glad she hadn't.

"Fuck!" she gasped as I ran my pointer finger down her naked spine. She spun to me, the flimsy, coral fabric of her t-shirt pressed to her bare chest and her eyes as round as saucers. The shock faded quickly to her eyes as she crossed her arms awkwardly over her tits, anger taking its mark across her delicate features. "Edward, you have got to stop coming in here like this." I smiled defiantly, seizing the opportunity as I pulled her into me to plant a kiss on her pale forehead.

"You must be deaf, Bell," I snickered. "I made about as much noise as Fat Man and Little Boy on the way up here." She scoffed as she pulled away from me—now that the instant of surprise was gone, she remembered to be embarrassed over the fact that I was holding her and she didn't have a shirt on. I sighed as she snatched a clean white top from her bed and nearly ran to the alcove, her spine rippling beneath her skin in a way that made my palms sweat.

There wasn't really any way I could blame her. Bella was still reserved, although I'd managed to knock down a few of her walls over the past four weeks. Still, in the grand scheme of things, I wasn't even close to knowing Bella, so I couldn't pass judgment as she gathered her boobs beneath her arms and ran headlong for the nook beside her door. I walked backwards blindly, my eyes still on her retreating form, until the edge of her bed met the back of my knees. I plopped down lazily, kicking my shoes off sloppily as I rested against her pillows. Their cases smelled like her hair, and my head spun as I caught a glimpse of her feathery fingers in the soft light.

"Don't you have a phone or something? You could have called to give me a little more warning," she complained as she padded toward me, curling up against my chest.

"Sorry," I mumbled half-heartedly, pulling my fingers through her damp hair. "I thought you'd hear me."

"Well apparently, I'm deaf," she retorted. I could feel the edges of her lips curl up through the cotton of my shirt, and I wanted to see her eyes. I turned to my side, pulling her face up until it was level with mine.

"Better," I sighed as I appraised her tiny face between my hands. Her brown eyes were swimming with life, so different from the hollow ones that haunted my every thought, and I wondered why I just couldn't simply remember them perfectly how they were just then. I knew that I could try, but that I would forget as soon as I had to leave her in the morning until I saw her again. She had light circles resting beneath her eye sockets from an apparent lack of sleep, and her lips were slightly chapped. She was beautiful.

She reached up a hand to wrap around my wrist as I cradled her face, hooking one leg loosely over my hip.

Her spontaneity came more quickly than expected in our short-lived relationship, and I was fucking glad that it did. After the day I brought her to my white house in the woods, she never tried to hide her affections unless we were at school. She still held my hand as we walked together, and kissed me whenever I leaned in to her. But Rose still terrified her, and anything that could possibly attract attention to Bella was fiercely avoided as she chose, instead, to wallow in solitary silence beneath Rose's gaze. I tried to explain how Rose was harmless, merely painted to look like a terror when really she was just a bitch with lots of makeup on, but Bella didn't budge. So I merely kept only her hand as she stumbled along the pavements, sneaking in kisses when no one was watching. I was totally and completely fucking blissed out, and it was a pleasant change from the girl tears that had been formerly making a copious amount of appearances.

Like a wish come true, as I thought of Bella's soft lips on mine in my mind, she took my bottom lip between hers as we hummed together on her itchy purple bedspread. I moaned, pulling her onto my chest as I rolled onto my back, the image of her naked fucking spine playing on repeat behind my closed eyelids. It hurt to have her on top of me like this while resisting the urge to rip her clothes off. The nip of her teeth on my lip kindly accented this fact, the final blow in a boxing match.

Suddenly, her lips weren't urgent as they had been before, and her chin jutted up and away from me as my eyes flickered open. She was straddled on me now, her palms pressed against my chest as her hair formed a messy cloud around her scowled face.

"Edward, what are you doing?" Her voice had a trace of irritation. Irritation and..was that...fear? Embarrassment?

"What are you talking about?" I asked stupidly, realizing half a second too late that my fingers were jammed underneath the waistband of the tight cotton sweatpants she wore low around her hips. I snatched them away like a boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar before dinner, warmth flooding my cheeks as her brows furrowed.

"Edward…I…" she trailed off, swinging her left leg away from my side and crumpling beside me. Her cheeks were flaming red, the set of her jaw defeated as she slumped into the pillows. She pulled her knees to her chin, her eyes as hollow as they always were in my head.

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry." And I was. I was sorry I'd pushed her too far, but I'd barely been aware that I was doing it. She was bewitching me, wrapping me around her finger, and I couldn't help myself. I was also sorry for another reason. I was sorry that she didn't feel comfortable like that with me yet, and that she had to even consider drawing away from me.

"It's fine, it's fine," she murmured, leaning her head hesitantly against my shoulder as my breathing returned to normal. It was beyond frustrating as I absorbed her gesture of pity. She felt stupid for having to pull away, foolish for questioning my motives in the first place, and sorry that she'd bruised my ego. I almost wished that she just wouldn't touch me at all—the weight of her head on my shoulder was a stabbing reminder that I'd just been rejected. "You don't need to be sorry," she added, twisting the knife that was already in my chest. "I'm just not..ready. For that."

"It's not your fault. It's too soon…I should have asked…"

"It was to be expected. I just caught me off guard, is all." I was shocked that she wasn't stuttering or stammering, and also that her blush was remotely controlled to the confines of her cheekbones rather than the full-body flush she took on during particularly uncomfortable situations.

"I won't touch you like that again. I didn't know.." I broke off before I could say something to make the circumstances even more awkward than they already were. I tried to avoid her eyes that were gazing up at the edge of my jaw in fear that the rejection would completely set in as soon as I met her stare. I expected her to speak again, but she didn't.

Instead, after a few deep breaths and concentrated silence, she twisted to sit on my lap once more as I slouched against her headboard, placing one hand gently on both of my shoulders.

"I want you to," she whispered, her eyes somehow uncertain and sure at the same time. She bit her lip, her fingers trembling where they traced my collarbones. I looked up at her then, confusion in my eyes as my brows pulled together. The strain hurt my forehead, but I paid it no attention.

"Are you—"

"Yes, Edward. I'm sure."

I should have known that I was in for it from the start.

I should have known, from the second I saw the ladder hanging from her open window to the moment I walked in to meet Bella's naked spine to the minute she threw her legs around my waist on her tiny, cramped bed.

I should have known that I'd be an asshole, and I should have known that Bella wasn't ready.

But I grinned in spite of myself as I navigated my twisting driveway, reliving the last hour at Bella Swan's house all over again. I knew there was no fucking way I was sleeping now, and I didn't mind. I knew it would mean Bella's dead, vacant eyes in the back of my mind for the remainder of the short amount of time I had to myself before I saw her again, but I hoped that maybe some new and very recently acquired memories would somehow overshadow that.

I hadn't managed to get out of my jeans, or get her out of those damned gray sweat pants, but I didn't expect that from her. It had been stupid to let my fingers wander as she jerked away from me, but in the end, there was no question that I was one hundred percent happy that I had. Because now, she knew that I was ready for her. Emmett once told me that girls never know when to make the first move, so they wait around and eventually get boring because they don't know how they're supposed to come on to boys. So I touched her as lightly as possible as her eyes shifted frantically in their sockets.

Bella had opened a door for me to walk through, and while it wasn't completely satisfying, at least it wasn't closed anymore. Part of me was disappointed that I hadn't pinned her down and shredded her clothes off like I had wanted, but I couldn't complain about the fragment of progress I'd made in the past sixty minutes.

I would never forget the faces she made as she watched my hand slip under the waistband of her little gray pants, and I would try not remember how she'd almost immediately tensed up and shied away despite the confidence of her words as she invited me. It was infuriating. It was frustrating. It was Bella. So it was worth it.

I knew that I would wait for her, wait until she was sixty fucking years old and shriveled up and gross if she wanted me to. I wasn't in it so I could try to fuck Bella Swan, I was in it because I just wanted to be with her. And as maddening as her constant cock-blocking and my serious case of blue balls was, I wouldn't stop crawling through her window at night, even if was just to watch her study for her fucking Chemistry test.

A/N: i know, i know. i suck. edward did not put his fingers anywhere on bella that would make his mother blush, just to make that clear. alice and jasper are very different than bella and edward, so it's just not the right time. sorry folks :) reviews are better than the arcade fire and edward's hands in your gray sweat pants.