AN: This chappy is carried on straight from the last! If you see any mistakes then let me know! I'm not sure how long my inspiration will last for this story, so if I suddenly stop updating then try giving me a cyber kick up the arse - it might work ;]

Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody is mine.

When he finally managed to pry himself from the bathroom, his nausea finally receding into a bad memory, he shuffled downstairs. He went into the massive kitchen that Phil paid for when Renée had an urge to pick up cooking – one that went as soon as it came – but then his body stiffened and his breathing hitched and his eyes became blurry with only one thing in focus. Bella.

She sat with her back to him at the kitchen table, fiddling with the hem of her baggy hoodie – the one he'd given to her only last year when he'd grown out of it. A part of him – the hidden animal that roared and growled, satisfied – rejoiced in seeing her in his clothes, having his scent on her, even when he knew it had probably worn off a long time ago.

Her head then turned, as if she'd felt him in the room, her beautiful orbs coming to rest on his still figure. She smiled cautiously; he had been practically ignoring her ever since that day in the shower. Pushing her away and hurting both of them because of it. It was like a hole in his heart without her nearby.

"Hey, Em," she said softly, lashes fluttering as she looked down nervously. He didn't say anything, only walked to the sink and poured a glass of water to rid his mouth of the vomit taste. He heard the chair groan as she shifted in it, obviously not having expected him to answer her. He hadn't for a while.

But then she gasped.

It was such a shocked sound, filled with pain and curiosity and disgust and so many other things he couldn't name. He pivoted on the spot and saw her staring at him. She was like ice in the chair, attention solely on him. He blinked. He had to say something, even if it deteriorated the effort he'd put into ignoring her thus far.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not quite able to keep the concern from his husky voice. As she slowly rose from the chair, he noticed she wore thin pyjama shorts. They rode slightly up her slim legs as she carefully walked over to him. He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes away from her.

And then she touched him, and a spark went straight to his heart and to his cock. He felt so alive in those few moments of her skin against his; he nearly wanted to weep like a sap. She manipulated his huge frame until his bare back was facing her. He cursed mentally, reprimanding himself for not putting a shirt on, when her gentle fingers brushed over the marks that slut had left on his smooth skin.

Bella was suddenly clambering to get away from him, falling over the table and chairs in her haste. He reached for her automatically, so similar to how she'd done for him in the shower, and steadied her. But she flinched at the contact like he had two months ago and pushed herself further away.

They stood staring at one another for ages before her dusky lips eventually formed a murmur. "I wish our walls weren't so thin."

The sentence was so normal, but it held such deep meaning. Emmett bit his lip, realizing that the wall his bed stood against was connected to her room, and he hadn't been very quiet during his escapades with the slut. Bella's eyes seemed to search his as he remained frozen, his emotions frayed. She'd never mentioned much about his 'conquests' over the years. She'd never once spoken of her displeasure and distaste at what went on so close to her. It was strange and terrifying to be confronted by her true thoughts on the matter now.

He had never talked with her about the girls he brought home. He never even mentioned their names or introduced them to her, regardless of whether she knew them distantly from school or not. She didn't interrupt him when he was interacting with one of those girls, whether in their home or on school grounds. It wasn't her place, and he didn't want to get her involved.

There were many stories that circulated their school; many sob stories of how some girl had slept with the mighty Emmett Swan and was then dumped by him shortly after. She had ignored the rumours that he was trying to pump up a reputation – she knew they weren't true. Her Em wouldn't do that. He had a heart of gold even with his fist of steel.

The two siblings remained their current stance, their legs soon cramping and their straight backs aching. It was only when headlights began shining through the kitchen window, when Phil and Renée returned home after another day of reckless 'adventures', that one of them moved.

"Why do you do it when you think it's wrong?" Bella questioned quietly.

Emmett panicked internally, thinking she was talking about his feelings for her. He had gotten caught up in the guilt for a second too long, had made himself confused about what she was saying. But then she spoke again, stepping closer to him. They both heard their mother laugh obnoxiously loud outside and blocked her and the rest of the world out. All that mattered was the other.

"You don't want me to be like you," she reminded him tenderly, "so why don't you change your ways?"

He stared fathomlessly into her stunning eyes as she continued to get closer to him, stopping a few inches away. A smile twitched at his lips then. "Why don't you help me?" he suggested, just as gently, just as hesitantly.

She beamed up at him like sunshine, throwing her tiny arms around his broad shoulders. He pulled her tight against his chest, both of them relaxing into the embrace. The tight strain on their hearts, like hot leather straps caging them, fell away and they could breath normally. This was what they needed. She snuggled into him and put her lips to his ear as they heard Phil open the front door.

"Just tell me how," she promised him in a soft voice and pecked his cheek with all the love that was in her words and her eyes.