Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 34 Listing to One Side
BPOV
Quiet cursing wakes me up but it takes a moment for me to make sense of what's happening since the bedside light is being eclipsed by a struggling Edward.
"Edward? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sorry to wake you up, just need to take a pill."
"Does it hurt?" I ask, possibly stupidly, as I roll over to face him.
"As a man I'm supposed to say no." He groans softly. "But yeah, it really hurts."
"Then stay here and I'll get them."
"Bossy." He huffs although he sags back against the bed. "But welcome."
"Jesus!" I complain. "The floor's freezing."
"Sorry."
"Its okay." I mutter as I skip across the chilly wood.
"Not really." He admits as I reach the kitchen. "I have under floor heating but I never remember to switch it on."
I hurry back with a glass of water and his prescribed dose of pain meds, snuggling into his nice warm side as he swills them down with water.
"I'll show you how the heating works in the morning." He offers.
"Okay."
"I wouldn't want your pampered New York ass to feel uncomfortable here."
"Rude."
"Bella?"
"Hmm?" I hum into his side.
"I . . . ."
I pull away so I can look up and he gives me a wry smile as he pushes his hair back from his forehead.
"What?"
"I . . . . jesus." He snorts, shaking his head. "Give me a sec . . . ."
"Okay."
"I'm really glad you're here." He says with that crooked smile.
My heart does some weird fluttering so I just nod and snuggle back into his lovely warm skin, even smelling faintly of hospital it's still a good place to be.
"But I . . . ."
"It's okay." I interrupt when he hesitates again. "This is your space, I understand, as soon as we've got you settled, you're ready, I'll head back to New York. I've got loads on with work and AT will give me a hard time if I don't."
"I don't want to keep you away from your work Bella and especially not if they're going to be difficult." He murmurs as his hand begins to stroke my hair. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not a burden, you broke your leg."
"You might change your mind."
"I will if you want to eat anything more sophisticated than TV dinners."
"It's worse than that." He chuckles. "I need to pee."
I jerk upright.
"I am not holding it for you!"
"And I wouldn't ask you to, but I might need a bit of help getting there and getting back."
"Oh. That I can do . . . ."
...
"Better?" I ask when we're finally settling back into bed.
"You have no idea, but I feel like I've just run a marathon, using crutches is much harder than it looks."
"You are a bit sweaty."
"Hey, use the nuclear fuel rod that is Edward A Cullen to stop yourself shivering or don't. See if I mind."
"I guess I can deal with a little moisture." I huff as I scoot across into his waiting arms. "But only because you're too cheap to put the heating on."
"There is method to my madness." He drawls as we relax back into the cooling bed his arms wound tightly round me, my head on his chest.
After a moment I sigh and he laughs quietly.
"Comfortable?" He enquires.
"Yes thank you."
Silence. Also comfortable.
"Bella?"
Here we go again.
"Hmm?"
"You know we established, officially, at Thanksgiving that I'm a selfish asshole?"
Oh dear god . . . . here we really go again . . . .
"And that I'm not very good at explaining myself?"
"You've been improving."
"I've been trying but I'm still not getting it right and I don't think I made myself clear earlier. I don't want you to go back to New York. I want you to stay here."
"I can hang around for a while, if you want me too."
"No. I'm still not making myself clear. I don't want you to 'hang around for a while'. I want you to stay here. In the barn. With me."
"Um . . . ." I ought to sit up and look at him but frankly I feel safer cradled to his chest.
"It turns out, for all the plans I had, that it's the simple things that are actually making me happy. Going to sleep with you. Waking up with you. Filling as much of the bits in between, with you."
"Edward . . . ." Now I do sit up though I can't see his face properly in the darkness.
"I know what you're going to say." He says.
"You do?"
"Its only been a month."
"Well, it has only been a month."
"But it hasn't has it?" I open my mouth to jump in but he silences me with a quick kiss. "It's been ten years and it just took us a while to notice. This, us, we're right for each other Bella we always were. And I know I'm not going to get what I'm starting to want but I hope that I can qualify that with a 'just yet' because this, us, is what I want.
I am that selfish asshole. I want you here, with me. I've worked out how we can put an office downstairs for you. God help me I've even started looking at small animal practices in New York."
Silence.
"Bella." His voice is quiet. "Please, say something."
The last time he said those words, trying to provoke a dialogue with me, I had a complete meltdown thinking he was actually breaking up with me. Not that I blame myself for that, he was crap at explaining himself, but he has upped his game since then. If he hadn't we wouldn't be here now. This here, this now, is all Edward's doing, because without him I'd still be running in the other direction. Although there's still time to start, it's not like he's going to be able to catch me in his current condition . . . .
"You're freaking out aren't you?" He asks gently, breaking into my careening thoughts.
"A little bit?"
"I know you're not just going to give up your career and you absolutely shouldn't, not for me, not for anyone. But I want you to know that I'll take, I want, as much of you as I can get. And I don't want you to freak out, I just want you to know how I feel."
"Okay." I whisper as I collapse back onto the warm safety of his chest, almost purring as he starts to stroke my hair again.
The silence stretches out until eventually Edward's meds pull him into a deep sleep, but the rest of my night is measured out by the beat of his heart and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
I'm an allegedly intelligent woman so by the time dawn breaks I've identified a whole two key areas for consideration.
Is he as high as a kite due to his pain meds? And if so what happens when he comes down?
Screw my career, I'm done with it in its current form, it's time to decide what I want to do for myself. I can pay for AT's jockey shorts to be surgically removed from his ass if I have to.
...
The day passes by in a blur.
Coffee. Edward's meds. Moira bringing breakfast and clucking over him like a mother hen. The two of us covering Edward's leg in trash bags and saran wrap so he can shower. Reassuring everyone Cullen related that Edward will be fine. Letting Felix and AT know that I'll be working from Kentucky for the foreseeable future.
Playing hostess when Moira and William visit . . . .
...
Demetri and I have wandered outside, shivering in our inadequate coats and thin soled shoes. The snow can hang around in New York but since the sidewalks are cleared you don't actually stand in it like you do down here. And brrrr . . . .
"We need some warmer clothes if we're staying here." He huffs, scowling at his exhaled breath as it floats away in a little cloud.
"I want to stay but you don't have to."
"Where you go I follow."
"That's sweet but I can't see the stalkery radichicco bothering us out here."
"It's my job to take care of you, I promised The Old Man."
"I don't think he envisioned you banishing yourself from New York for any length of time." I sigh. "Or me for that matter."
"Yet you're going to do it?" He asks quietly as we both lean up against the pasture fence opposite the barn.
"I think so. I've no idea what's going to happen with Cask, with Edward, with anything really, but I'm going with my instincts and right now I'm extremely disinclined to leave."
"Moira and William have offered me their spare room for as long as I need it."
"You have a life in New York."
"So do you."
"Not much of one." I snort derisively.
"You're ready to find out if there's more to you than La Belle Bella." He says, lifting one of his feet to rest on the lowest wooden railing. "Maybe I'm ready to find out if there's more to me than Demetri the Driver."
"Are you sure?" What about your girlfriend?
"I am for now. Is that good enough?"
"It works for me."
"Good." He growls. "Now can we please go back inside before we freeze?"
"Done and done."
...
"I can't see what you're doing!"
"Then you need to give better instructions! How the fuck am I supposed to know what 'blanche' means?"
"Are they limp?"
"Yeah, I've pretty much killed them."
"Don't worry, they'll still count as a vegetable."
I groan as I transfer them to a plate. Who knew asparagus tips were hard to cook?
"Am I still putting butter on them?"
"Might as well. Check the steaks."
"What am I checking for?"
"Blood or charcoal, anything in the middle should just about work."
"Um . . . ."
"I'll come help."
"No. Doctor Sawbridge said your leg has to stay level with your hip."
He mutters something from his position on the couch.
"What's that?" I demand as I prod the steaks again. Blood and charcoal, does that qualify as 'in the middle'?
"Just dish it up Bella, we Cullens have cast iron constitutions."
"This was your idea."
More mumbling.
"What?" I demand again.
"I'm sure it will be delicious."
"Liar.
"Optimist." He corrects.
...
It was awful, inedible in fact, but at least it made us laugh though all we had instead was a frozen pizza that I managed to both burn and under cook. Go me.
Our stomachs take it in turns to protest as we cosy up on the couch to read and listen to music. He has so much music . . . .
...
Much later, after I've done the 'tamping down the fire in the cold dance' we snuggle up in bed together, my head resting on his chest again.
"Your cell keeps beeping." He observes sleepily as his fingers comb through my hair.
"I've told them I'm staying here for a while." I admit. "But I'm not ready to explain myself to anyone just yet."
"Not even me?"
"Not even you."
"Okay, I'm glad you're staying though."
"So am I."
"Moira's taking you into town tomorrow?"
"Yep. I'm going to hit the store up for TV Dinners."
"That's my girl."
Silence. The low crack of the cooling fire. The hum of the refrigerator. The whisper of wind crossing the roof. The roiling creak of lived in wood. Beating hearts. Inhaled and exhaled breath.
Slowing in synchronicity.
"Night love."
"Night Edward."