A/N:

If you're feeling lost in the narrative: Cling to Edward's POV of recent events. You'll notice that that his actions/interactions are fluid and in order. You're basically on this journey with him as he looks for Bella and remembers what went wrong - and what went right.

"It isn't enough to tell us what a man did. You've got to tell us who he was."

- Rawlston

July 24, 2010

Edward

It's nearly midnight when I finally get the courage to enter our bedroom. It almost feels like I'm trespassing because most recently, Isabella was sleeping in here alone.

Sidestepping items haphazardly left on the floor, I glance around the space cautiously.

I haven't studied the room in detail since I had to give the police a tour. Since then, I only come in here each morning to do a quick daily sweep with my eyes...just in case she miraculously appeared while I was sleeping in the guest room.

After I spoke with Marcus, it became obvious that I was avoiding the room out of fear, and I decided that I wouldn't let apprehension rule my decisions a long time ago.

I sit down on the large bed, numbly taking in my surroundings.

Her camera bag, scattered clothes, hair ties.

Bare walls...

We hadn't decided on which paintings to hang yet.

Suddenly exhausted, I lie down on my back, grabbing a beaded throw pillow to occupy my hands.

I'm somewhat tempted to just fall asleep in here, even though it will hurt much more when I wake up.

I'll expect her to be here when I wake up.

But maybe the nightmares will stop.

I know I have things to do tomorrow, a morning alarm in the next room, but...

Forgetting all that is sounding better and better.

I turn my head to half-heartedly look at the clock, noticing a lump under the comforter that looks somewhat familiar. Curious as ever, I pull back the silky, golden fabric. The action quickly reveals artificial brown fur and black plastic eyes staring back at me complacently.

Confusion turns to shock, then relief, then despair.

I pick him up, affectionately bothering the fur on his ears with my fingers.

Benny.

January 16, 2010

Edward

Isabella squeezes her arms tighter around my neck, tugging on my now-tousled hair before she makes that adorable cooing noise that drives me nuts.

I gently push her against the wall next to the bedroom door as I explore her mouth and the soft curve of her waist.

Gently. Always gently with Isabella.

"Inside, please," I murmur rather urgently against her lips.

Isabella giggles as she struggles to open the door behind her, and I immediately plan on bottling the sound as soon as possible.

After numerous blind attempts - eliciting more delightful noises - she's somehow successful in the fight against the doorknob. Managing to lead us to her bed without tripping on anything, I carefully lay her down without breaking our connection.

While a twin bed might not be the best conduit on which to consummate our relationship, it's rather apt that it's small and innocent...like Isabella.

"Edward," she sighs contentedly as she breaks away for air. I smile and focus my attentions on her neck, never growing tired of her saying my name. I lightly skim the sensitive skin below her ear with my teeth, receiving a shiver as she hooks a leg around my hip.

Now that we've reached a more comfortable destination, neither of us seems to be in as big of a hurry as we were a few minutes ago. I kiss Isabella slow and deep while she plays with the buttons on my shirt. She alternates between teasing my chest and torturing my locks, while my free hand seems unwilling to let go of the place where her jeans meet the smooth skin of her abdomen. I tenderly rub the hollow next to her hip bone, earning more sighs.

As I roll us onto our sides, I become aware of the fact that there is a lump of something softly digging into my ribs. I try my damnedest to dislodge it without removing my lips, but it's just not working out. Isabella notices my struggle and breaks the kiss.

"You're lying on Benny," she observes breathlessly. I look down, trying to see the invisible offender.

"Who's Benny?"

Is there a very small man in her bed that I didn't notice before? If so, I'll be pissed.

"My bear," she answers too loudly, seeming embarrassed. She's all bashful and blushing, and I know that shouldn't fuel my desire, but it does.

I sit up and dig under the covers a bit before I find what she's talking about. Sure enough, it's a brown stuffed bear with what feels like beans in its paws to keep them firm. He's pretty large, too - about the size of her torso. As if to demonstrate the fact, Isabella takes the bear and hugs it to her chest.

"My dad got him for me," she murmurs while she smoothes down the ruffled fur on his forehead. The impromptu grooming does little good; the shock of fur just pops right back up.

I move back a bit so I can take in the entirety of her beauty. Rosy cheeks, holding onto the teddy bear she got from her father...the picture of innocence.

I lean over her to tug on the edge of the purple comforter as she gives Benny a final squeeze. In such a small bed, it's not much of a reach.

"Come on," I murmur close to her lips. "Let's go to bed."

Isabella gazes at me questioningly, looking puzzled and a little disappointed. She speaks slowly, uncertainly.

"We're not going to..."

Her shy, trailed-off question confirms my resolution. I lean in and brush my lips against her jaw for a quick kiss. Unable to resist, I also plant one on the side of Isabella's mouth. Her unmistakable strawberry scent overwhelms my senses until I force myself to pull back.

Smiling softly, I run my fingers through her mussed-up hair.

"Not tonight."