"Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch the one you love, to try again. 'Hell would be waking up and wanting nothing,' he agrees."

― Karen Marie Moning, Shadowfever

35

Edward had an amazing DVD collection. Unfortunately some of my favorites would be like kryptonite at the moment, so I resorted to his selection of Pixar and Disney. I was starting to feel like a bit of a bum – movies and sweatpants on a weekday. I'd barely even done this in my college days. Then that annoying but correct part of my brain chirped that my mother was shot ten days ago, and I'd sink further into the cushions. This was okay, for now.

Em had the week of Renee's funeral off work, so he basically told me to do what I needed to do and not worry about him and Ben. What I needed to do was spend the couple of days post-counseling alternating between Edward's pool deck with its view of the Sound, his couch, and being spooned by him in his bed. I resolved that after Alice and I had settled Renee's affairs, I would begin to put more of the advice I'd been given into practice. I'd done a lot of thinking in the June sunshine the day prior, and today I was already feeling like my minor meltdown had been somewhat cathartic and productive, if you could call it that.

Familiar hands slipped over my shoulders and warm lips kissed against my neck.

"I like you in my house," Edward said softly.

"I like being in your house," I replied. He moved around the couch to sit next to me. "I do need to question your taste in movies, though. You're a sensitive new-age kinda guy, I'm sure, but why do you own Tangled?"

He laughed, music to my ears.

"The kids at the hospital kept going on about Rapunzel and that movie. I had to buy it so I could engage in some very important Disney discussion."

"Fuck."

"Ha, maybe not the response I was expecting."

"That's, ah…" I leaned over and kissed him instead of using gushy words about how divine he was. Edward made me more certain that, amongst the frogs, there were certainly some princes in the world. My grandfather, Charlie, Edward – they were all cut from a very good cloth.

"Let me come with you on Sunday," he said, his forehead resting against my own.

He was referring to the trip Alice, Jasper, and I were making to Phoenix to sort out the remnants of Renee's life.

"You've already taken so much time off on my account. Save your leave for something great, like a vacation together."

He brushed his thumb against my lips, and there was that amazing moment of quiet like you saw in the movies where love passed from one person to the other almost telepathically.

"I like it when you talk about the future," he whispered.

"I like the idea of the future with you in it."

"You know you don't need to be scared, right?" He paused, and if possible his face became even more convincing. "I'm so in love with you, Bella."

"The feeling is so much more than mutual, Edward."

He kissed me again, the combination of his warm mouth and enchanting words had me wanting to be much, much closer to him.

"I like you on my couch," he said, justifiably pleased with himself, with us.

"You like me everywhere today." I smiled and brushed my fingers against his cheek.

"Ah, a smile. I like it even more now."

I couldn't not smile at him, he made me forget myself.

"Is it forward or insensitive or inappropriate to say I'd like you especially somewhere else in particular today? Don't answer that – it is insensitive and inappropriate," he said.

"I'd like me underneath you on this couch today, if that's what you were thinking."

"Mmhm, I'd like you very much underneath me. You're good sitting there all goddess-in-sweatpants too, but I'd also like them off you, on the floor…" His voice trailed off. I didn't want him to think playfulness wasn't okay. He was trying so hard to read me and be careful, but playfulness was perfect right now. I needed it.

"Take them off, please?" I asked, a slight waver in my voice betraying my determination.

He didn't waste time as his mouth carefully moved to mine, and his dexterous surgeon's fingers found their way down my legs twisted in thick cotton fabric.

"Then take off yours," I instructed in a whisper. "Then let me like you above me with you inside me."

"That's not like." He was doing things against my neck that were far too good.

"I know; that's love," I agreed. "I love you in me." He chose that moment to slip inside, filling me as I shifted farther under him on the couch.

Feeling this good wasn't something I tried to allow myself anymore, it was a necessity. It was life, and I planned on living and breathing and exalting in the perfect human connection of it.