Draw Me In

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Five – If You See Her, Say Hello

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*~ I'm stepping up to indicate

The time has come to deviate ~*

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In no time at all it seems – though the corridor looks frighteningly long when I peer back down it – we arrive at a door. And unlike our surroundings thus far, it is not black.

It's red.

Security opens said door and ushers us in, gesturing towards one of the three comfy looking sofas. "They'll be right with you," he says, and then nods at us all once before backing out and closing the door.

My first thought is –

What does he mean they?

Silence coats the air around us for a minute, thick and heavy, before Rose walks further into the room and starts digging around in a very ostentatious mini fridge.

"What are you doing?" I manage to push out.

She peers over her shoulder at me and raises an eyebrow. "Making myself at home." Then, gesturing towards the fridge – "Drink? There's plenty. Apparently these guys have a problem with tap water."

I shake my head quickly. "No, thanks." Truth is, my throat feels like the bloody Sahara, but I'm so nervous right now that I imagine it would end up mostly on me rather than inside of me. "I'm alright."

"Alice?"

"Please."

As those two drift on over to the couch, I remain rooted to my spot, taking a minute to have a look around.

It's dark in here, too, and rather than overhead lights there are lamps, but the kind that linger around the space rather than lighting it up. Aside from the fridge and the couches, there isn't much to see. I spy a guitar lurking up the corner and one haphazardly tossed across a couch, but that's basically it.

But it doesn't feel sparse or cold. The low lighting, imposing sofas and dark – burgundy, black? – walls give it an almost . . . cosy feel? My eyes squint. No, I think, not cosy.

Kept?

Close?

It sends a tingle down my spine.

"…not like I'm going to do anything. Besides, I think Bella is the main candidate here."

Their conversation trickles across the room and into my ears, and I drag my eyes from the walls to see them already looking at me. Frowning, I ask, "What?" And then – "Candidate for what?" Which is daft really, considering I don't want to be a candidate for anything.

My eyes flicker between theirs, more than a little uneasy at the smiles on their faces.

Rose says, "The prospect of you getting chatted up is very likely."

Almost immediately, I feel the heat rush to my face. "No," I say, voice high. "That's – that's not going to happen." Even just the idea of it has my hand creeping into my hair and pulling nervously at the strands.

"I was just messing," Rose says soothingly as she pats the spot between her and Alice, and I only hesitate for a moment before going and sitting in between them. "But it's not so out of the question."

I draw my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down hard. That cannot be why I'm here. Granted, I'm not actually sure of the reason, but it's not so. . .

My eyes go wide and a gasp leaves my lips as realisation sinks in.

"You don't think . . . what if he thinks I'm sort of groupie or something?" I look at Rose in horror. "What if he wants me to – "

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, speedy." Rose has her palms raised in a pacifying gesture, her eyes wide. "I didn't mean it like that."

"She was only joshing, Bella," Alice reassures, the first words she's spoken to me since we walked into the room. I turn to look at her and find her eyes are hesitant, her words quiet. This persona is so different to her usual chirpy one, and it makes me more than a little sad. "Plus, I'm pretty sure groupies would be the ones doing the seeking . . . and, well . . . he sought you out."

I look at her, my eyes round and worried. "I'm not sure if that's any better."

She slips her hand into mine and squeezes.

Rose says – "Just breathe, Bella."

And I can sort of understand why Alice called me an invalid.

Gathering some resolve from god knows where, I wedge it underneath me – unyielding as brick – and take a deep breath.

"It's going to be fine. It's really going to be fine. It's going to be so absolutely fine that I'll have a new meaning for the word fine when we get home." Inhale. Exhale. "Right?"

"Of course," Rose agrees.

"Absolutely fine," Alice concurs.

I glance at them, my mind still plucking out a nervous tune. There are a thousand butterflies swirling around in my stomach and I really hate the feeling, but I keep thinking resolve resolve resolve, and then – distraction.

I turn to Alice.

"Got anymore mates with first editions just lying around?"

Beside me, Rose groans.

–|*|–

We are mid-way through a discussion/argument about whether one of Alice's sources is really as genuine as they claim to be. I still suspect the legitimacy of a first edition Wuthering Heights bought from him, Alice thinks that my suspicions spread from personal bias – clearly, I am not fond of him – when the door opens.

Almost as if we were connected in a crazy, highly spiritual way, Alice, Rose and I all freeze at exactly the same moment.

And very slowly, our eyes turn to the doorway.

Two people of obviously male stature stand in the place which is not quite in, but not quite out, either. Silence permeates the room for a minute, and there is a lot of staring going on.

That is, until –

"Hello girls," the bloke – the drummer – greets as he strolls into the room, oozing nonchalance and ease. He's grinning from ear to ear as he stops in front of us.

"I'm Emmett," he introduces, sticking out his hand and shaking ours one by one. The gesture would make me smile, if I weren't the one being subjected to it.

"Alice," Alice says, smiling, when he reaches out to take her tiny hand.

He grins. "How'd you do, Tinker."

Her smile brightens.

Tinkerbelle. Well, he wasn't far off.

Next: me.

I try to shake his hand as thoroughly as he shakes mine, but just end up jerking weirdly instead and pitching into Rose's shoulder.

He laughs, loudly.

I glow like a radioactive tomato.

"Good to meet you, Bambi," he says, still chuckling.

I just squeak and drop his hand.

Bambi?

Bambi?!

When he moves onto Rose, I swear he does a double take. Silence takes centre stage again as they stare at each other. And maybe I'd be interested in Rose's reaction if the weird atmosphere they were creating wasn't making my face warm.

Emmett clears his throat, his hand just holding, not shaking, her own. His voice is deeper when he says, "It's a pleasure – "

"Rosalie," Rosalie cuts him off, her eyes just narrowing, but not in the same irritated way as when our neighbours are giving her aggro. This look seems only . . . surface inclined. "Just Rosalie."

He nods slowly, looking a little dazed. "Pleasure," he says quietly, before clearing his throat and backing away. He slinks down onto the sofa opposite us, jerking a thumb towards the figure still standing in the doorway. "That smarmy git over there is Jasper."

The "smarmy git" in question rolls his eyes as he walks towards us, stopping behind the sofa to shove his band mate. "Excuse him. He doesn't understand the concept of manners unless his mother's in the room." Then he nods to each of us, uttering a quiet hello with a slight smile.

I side eye Alice, and her wide eyes are not discreet.

Neither is her sudden gulp.

And then everyone is back to staring.

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A/N: I promise promise promise Edward will make his entrance next chapter.*rubs hands together* Are you ready for him? ;)

chatted up = an act of talking flirtatiously to someone

joshing = joking, to tease someone in a playful way

aggro = problems and difficulties

smarmy = obsequious, condescendingly flattering

git = an unpleasant person

Thank you for reading. :) See you soon!