*** This story contains some mild language, suspense, romance, and some frightening images and situations—13 and older, please.

* Warning for younger readers: This chapter is slightly more risqué with sexual matter than usual.

In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Sixty Two

Missing

My long blue and white skirts hampered my speed as I ran across the glen after the young boy who, by my guess, couldn't have been any older than nine or ten years old. Looking down at my slender figure, I could see that I was even younger, perhaps seven or eight.

I let the basket roll from my arm to the ground and picked up my skirts as I ran faster.

"Demetri Farlaine! You give me those violets!" I yelled across the distance, my voice thin and childish.

But the swift-footed boy just glanced over his shoulder and laughed.

"When I catch you…" I huffed, letting the threat hang in the air.

He paused long enough to turn around and taunt me. "You'll do what? Tell my mother?"

I shook my head. "No, your father…so he can take a willow stick to your hind-end!"

His smile faded. I took advantage of his faltering confidence and pressed closer.

And as he turned to dart out of my reach, I leapt upon his back.

We fell to the ground, but somehow in the fall things had shifted. His arms came around to grasp my waist and he took my weight as he fell back on the grass. As I straddled his waist, I couldn't help but notice that my legs had lengthened; my chest was no longer childishly flat underneath the fitted dress. And Demetri was no longer the young boy I'd been chasing but a moment ago. He was lean and muscular, his dark hair glossy beneath the sun's rays. His eyes danced and sparkled with his mischievous nature, yet they were softened as he looked up at me as if he were savoring the moment of our indecent position.

"Demetri Farlaine, give me those violets," I said, grabbing his hand and trying to pry his fingers open.

He leaned up from the ground and pressed his lips to mine, taking my hand and pressed the violets into my hand. And if our intimate position was scandalous before, it was far more so now as I felt the strong muscles of his torso strain against the inside of my thighs. The sweetest warmth crept up from where our bodies meshed, and my breath became ragged underneath his soft lips.

I pulled back trying to regain my wits. Looking over at the path which would take me home, I said, "Someone might see us."

There was humor in his voice, "Yes, prying eyes are everywhere. Don't mind them…let them see how much I adore you." He kissed me again, loving and tender.

"Demetri…" I scolded, but there was no strength to my reproach. How would I compose myself with him making me so weak with desire? I could hardly think straight.

I turned my attention to the violets he had stolen and then returned to my hand. They were wilted, almost pulverized, the dark purple blooms staining my palms. "What am I supposed to do with these? They're good for nothing except the insides of a goat's stomach!"

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "But it works every time."

"Oh…You are going to pick me more—."

He grinned as he picked me up, still straddled his waist. "Yes, yes, I know the drill. Pick more violets, more lavender. After ten years, it's still worth the bother."

"Slow down," I told him. But he didn't seem to hear me. He just kept walking across the field. My voice sounded strange, as if it were coming from far away; the fields were fading and the peach and blue bathroom tiles were replacing the green spongy grass.

I was still sitting on the bathroom vanity chair—but I had no idea for how long. Minutes? Hours? My face still felt flushed from Demetri's kiss…however long ago that was. The flashback had seemed so real. I was there…yet I wasn't…I was sitting here all along, reliving it.

My hands shook as I covered my face and groaned silently.

But not silently enough…

"Bella?" Edward's voice searched through the closed bathroom door.

"I'll be right out," I answered, trying to keep the quiver from my voice, and stalling for time.

"Well…okay." It seemed like he was going to say more, but at that moment there was a loud knock at the room's entrance door.

I stood up and went to the sink to splash my face with water, looking at my wristwatch to see that it was after three a.m. Who in the world would be knocking on our door at this hour?"

I hurried into the bedroom to see for myself, suddenly fearful that the Lycans were making another attack.

But to my utter surprise it was Demetri who stood there talking low with Edward. They both turned and looked at me when I entered. And whether it was three minutes ago or a thousand years ago when he had kissed me, my knees almost buckled.

I went over and sat down on the bed to hide my wobbliness.

Edward looked from me to Demetri and then back again. "Bella…" he said. "Elena has gone missing."

***

(Note: I thought about toning down the weirdness in the last scene. But after letting a friend read over it, we both decided that flashbacks are weird, period—and maybe that weirdness needs to be felt in the scene to be effective. So I kept everything from the last chapter and even added more weirdness with this chapter. (–See, Hannah, you were right.) I hope this chapter, which is really the other half of last chapter, clarifies everything. If not, I'm sure you'll PM me or post it on the review page. Either one suits me. Thanks for reading. OTM)