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unbeta'd

storyline - Laugh

prompts - steadfast

"I'm yours," he murmured.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so nervous.

The end of a flight is always the worst; the plane taxis to a stop, the seatbelt light (and sometimes the air conditioning) goes off, and everyone jumps up, as if queuing impatiently will cause the door to open faster.

Taking deep breaths of stale air, I retrieved my carry-on down from the overhead compartment and got in line.

My phone chirped.

I'm here, by baggage claim.

Just landed. See you in a few.

My heart sped up. This was ridiculous; the last time Edward had made me this anxious was during the conversation that eventually led to him asking me out. We'd been so young then, so green.

The line staggered forward and I moved with it, almost hysterical with the abrupt need to hurry.

I followed the signs leading to baggage claim. Apparently, several other flights had come in around the same time as mine, because the airport was a madhouse. Crowds of people milled around, meeting, finding, and rushing.

I saw Edward before he saw me, and even then I could see that he was searching. He looked pretty much the same –he hadn't been gone that long –but his jacket was different. New. I liked it.

A rather large group of students crossed between us, and then he saw me.

His smile nearly took my breath away. I was so, so happy to see him.

"Hey," he said, coming toward me.

I paused, not sure if we were still on hugging terms, but he took my luggage and set it down before wrapping his arms around me.

"Man, am I glad to see you," he said, his nose cold against my ear.

His words confused me, but they also sent me soaring.

"Me too," I whispered past the lump in my throat.

He pulled back, holding my face between his hands. His eyes flashed with something I couldn't quite place. I blinked slowly, forcing back tears, and smiled. "Thank you for letting me come."

Frowning, he let go of me and picked up by bag. "I wanted you to come, Bella. I…"

I glanced at him, wondering what he wanted to say. There had been a time when we'd been on the same page, when our sentences had been shared and our hearts had beaten steadfast and in unison. Somewhere along the way, though, we'd lost that. It was like looking at him from across a canyon, and wanting nothing more than to get to him.

"Do you have bags?" he asked, nodding toward the luggage carousel.

I shook my head, adjusting my purse. "Just that."

He nodded. "Good. It's a circus over there."

"No kidding," I laughed, glad the heaviness had passed for the moment.

"I hope you're hungry… I made dinner reservations."

"I'm starved."

"Good! Me too."

Dinner was fantastic.

Edward told me all about his new job, and for the first time since he'd left, I listened without resentment. He was doing something he loved, and he was passionate about it.

He admitted to being alone a lot, but not quite lonely. He said he worked too much to think about leisure.

"I hope my being here doesn't throw you off track," I said.

"It probably will, but not in the way you're thinking," he said, shaking his head as he looked down. I watched as a small smile spread across his face, and it warmed me through and through.

"You're such a mystery now," I remarked, finishing my wine. Almost on cue, a waiter appeared with the bottle, asking if I wanted more.

I shook my head, covering the glass. "No, thank you."

The wine was good, but one glass was enough for me. I wanted to be clear headed for any conversations Edward and I might have later on.

I looked back at Edward, who was watching me intently.

"What?" I asked, self conscious.

"You seem… different."

"How?"

He shrugged. "More… open."

"Was I closed before?"

He nodded slowly. "I think we were both a little closed off in the end, there."

I fought the urge to grab his hand. "I don't want to be closed anymore."

His apartment was sparse, very much a functional living space and nothing more. The picture he'd taken off of our hallway wall was propped beside his bed.

It had been taken at a friend's wedding, two years before. The way we were looking at each other in it, one would think we'd been the ones getting hitched.

"The couch pulls out," Edward said, leaving my bag by his bed. "I can sleep there."

I made a face. "No. I don't want you to sleep there."

His cheeks reddened slightly. He loosened his tie and turned toward the window. "What do you want, then?"

I wanted everything. I wanted him back. I wanted us back, but better.

I crossed over to where he was standing, and turned him around. Besides our hug at the airport, it was the most we'd touched since I'd arrived.

He gazed down at me, his eyes tired and dark in the dim light of the room. I cupped his cheek in my hand, missing the way he felt.

"I want you," I said quietly.

That same expression, the one from the airport, flickered across his face again. Pain, perhaps.

I finished unknotting his tie and began on his buttons. His hands fell to his sides, and then, hesitantly, to my hips.

"I want to be with you," I said, trying to calm the crazy emotions threatening to erupt from me.

He stilled my hands, and pressed me gently against the window. The glass was cool, even through my sweater.

"I'm yours," he murmured.