A/N: Ugh ... hangovers... Something I've never had =P

Chapter 34

You Found Me

Bella's POV

Kel and I were in a boat; one of those little dingy things that offered practically no protection from capsizing—or drowning.

Why? I had no idea.

The sea was rough. I could hear the whooshing as we went up and down on the water, but I didn't see the swirl. And I was sea-sick—oh God, was I ever sea sick.

Hanging over the edge, I groaned through every swell. It was almost as if it was breathing, and my stomach was rolling right along with it.

"Kel, get me off this thing!" I pleaded pitifully.

She only smiled at me while her obvious amusement at my predicament pulled her lips even wider. "No can do, Bells."

"You enjoy watching me suffer, don't you," I grumbled, before pulling myself back from the rim of the small boat—only when I was confident I wasn't going to heave my guts up over board.

Kel only watched me for a moment, a look of consternation dominating her expression, before rolling her eyes. "Of course I do. Isabella, you are the champion of the world when it comes to melodrama—you know that?"

I glanced up at her, then around us, feeling my forehead crease from the sudden realisation of how odd everything was. Kel was sitting on the edge of the dingy, her legs stretched out before her and crossed at the ankles with her arms folded. All completely at ease, as though we weren't out at sea in rough weather.

I continued to stare at her, blinking with confusion. "Where are we?" I asked finally.

"You're in Nummi's brother's room with Edward. And me? Well ... I'm with you." She shrugged nonchalantly.

I sat up a little straighter in the boat. Still it continued to surge up and down, over and over; never ending. "But ... we're in a boat…"

"Are we?" She raised her brow, her grin inching broader.

Our scenery changed but with the feeling that it hadn't at all. We weren't in a boat anymore; now, we were on my bed, in my room at Uncle Billy's, in Forks, and Edward was definitely not here with us.

"What's going...?" I let my voice trail off, growing more confused.

Kel huffed with an affectionate kind of exasperation. "Would you just shut up and stop trying to work it out. I made you feel better. For a while, anyway."

I continued to stare at her when it suddenly hit me, all in a rush, almost knocking the air from my lungs. I promptly threw my arms around her, and the relief I felt from the feeling of her soft, warm, tangible body caused an immediate rush of emotion to flood me. "Kel ... you're here! But-but, you died!"

"No I bloody didn't!" she declared, sounding offended for a moment before she sighed and lowered her voice. "I'm not dead, Bells. I'm just ... somewhere else."

She let me cling to her for a second or two before gently prising herself from me. For a moment she only stared at me resolutely, before her expression darkened. "Bells, I want you to stop punishing yourself. It's pissing me off, seriously, and you're making it worse for Rach and Nummi. They're already upset at the thought of you leaving again soon."

I blinked slowly, taking her words properly in before I felt my face flush with shame. I didn't realise I'd been punishing myself; intentionally anyway, and I certainly hadn't meant to hurt Rach and Nummi further. It had just become so hard to deal with that I'd pulled back.

"I'm so—" I began, but Kel immediately interjected.

"You say sorry and I'll kick your arse!"

"I'm sorry," I blurted before quickly bringing my hand to my mouth, apologetically.

Kel quirked an eyebrow, her lips edging with a knowing grin before she openly rolled her eyes.

We both burst into laughter.

But, like the complete idiot that I was, I still impulsively apologised, a couple more times.

Shaking her head, Kel eventually grabbed my pillow and started whacking me with it.

"Bloody hell, Bells!" she burst, her laughter dying down. "Why do you always feel responsible for everything?"

I sat myself cross-legged on my bed and clasped my hands in my lap in thought. After thinking about it for a moment, I came up blank and shrugged slightly. "Guilty conscience?"

She huffed, drawing it out into a frustrated but good natured groan. "You're hopeless! But, seriously, I'm the one who should be sorry. Just when you got settled I had to go and turn it all upside down on you."

"Stop being a dag. As if you could help it," I mumbled, glancing down at my hands just as a deep-seated sadness washed over me.

She slung her arm over my shoulder. It was her—body and soul. Not gone, but right here with me.

I took a deep breath, my eyes suddenly welling with tears. "You can see me but I can't see you, right? That's how it goes, isn't it?"

She sighed heavily. "Pretty much. But you can feel me, and I'll let you know when I'm around you, okay?"

I nodded quickly, inhaling back the threat of tears. "Okay..."

"Now down to business..." she began.

I looked up at her curiously. "What business?"

"For one; your mother," she answered. Her tone tightened, but otherwise she was serious, and she was gazing down at me with almost ... disappointment.

"What about her?" I asked, feeling the prickle of shame again.

"You have to let her go, Bells, but first..." Her voice trailed off as a devious smile began to hint on her lips.

"First…?"

"Next time you see her, do me a favour?"

"Okay..." I answered with trepidation.

"Tell that bitch to fuck herself!"

I opened my mouth to respond, but hesitated.

"Bella, she's jealous of you, she always has been. But now... " she paused and threw me a small teasing smirk, "but now you come back to town with Mr tall, handsome, and looks down right obscene in an akubra, and she's so green if she moved to Forks she'd be camouflaged."

I broke into a small, inward grin.

"That reminds me—about Edward..." she suddenly switched tune, gazing at me thoughtfully, with concern hinting behind her eyes.

"What about Edward...? I asked slowly, my heart pausing nervously.

"He loves you, Bells, so go easy on him, okay?" she said with sincerity, raising her eyebrows to further emphasize it.

I felt my brow bunch; I was relieved, but it felt like there was more that she wanted to say but didn't.

"Okay," I finally answered.

"And I'm serious. I don't want you letting Renee get in the way of your life any more. Promise me?" she pressed me, serious again.

"I promise," I vowed with a sigh, nodding my head as further admission.

"Okay, I gotta go."

"No!" I burst, reaching over to grab her, to keep her with me, but she intercepted my hands; grabbing them and guiding them back to my lap.

"You're being melodramatic again, Bells," she said, only her tone dropped with affection.

And suddenly we were back in the unbalanced dingy, and instantly I was wracked with sea sickness again. The whooshing sound was back, but it was overshadowed by the panicked thudding in my heart at the prospect of her leaving.

"Stay with me, Kel," I pleaded with her knowing it was pointless, but the words flew out of my mouth regardless.

"Bells..." She sighed, gazing at me sadly for a moment before pulling me impulsively into her arms. "I love you, Bella," she whispered, her voice breaking softly before she released me.

When I glanced up at her again, with my heart utterly crumbling, she was smiling at me; her momentary sadness immediately replaced with warmth.

It was the way she always smiled at me.

I could only sob, helplessly, clinging to the image of her as it began to blur behind my tears. "Goodbye, Kel."

A heavy arm tightened around me while gentle fingers brushed my hair from my face. "Hey?" Edward's soft, croaky voice broke through the projection of my dream.

I opened my eyes, slowly, and as soon as they were exposed to the light, I jolted, groaning softly. My head was pounding—literally thumping, and the sound of my own voice was like a jackhammer.

Closing my eyes again, I immediately realised I was still sea sick—that it wasn't only a dream. I still seemed to be rising and falling—my stomach churning with it—while the whooshing sound echoing around me sounded more like an explosion, assaulting my ears.

I groaned again pitifully, almost sobbing with it, as I became more and more aware of how horribly sick I felt. My mouth was parched, bone dry, and my tongue felt like it was an old sock. I tried swallowing, only to realise the disgusting taste in my mouth that again made my stomach roll.

I could only moan, pitifully and weakly, feeling too sick to manage anything louder.

"You okay, baby?" Edward's voice again, a decibel above a whisper, but it still made me flinch.

"Edward ... don't talk too loud ... please," I managed a barely audible reply. Just speaking—if it could be called that—caused a wave of nausea to rush through me. I squeezed my eyes shut—my only defence from it.

I was still going up and down and together with the god awful taste in my mouth, I was convinced I was going to be sick.

When I opened my eyes again, braving the torture of the light, I sluggishly processed my surroundings. I was lying with Edward, with my head resting on his chest before I immediately became aware of his warm body beneath mine; my legs were tangled with his, and my arms wrapped around him, while he held me to him, tightly. It was then I realised the whooshing wasn't some strange dream of being in rough sea, it was him breathing; the motion of me rising and falling on top of him.

Weakly, I pushed myself from his arms and let myself flop stomach first on the mattress beside him. My head felt like a bowling ball and the simple motion of moving, only a fraction, made another round of nausea rage through me. I felt so horrendous, that all I could do was whimper, but there was only one thing that held me together: the silent, adamant vow I made myself that I would not throw up in front of Edward.

Closing my eyes again, I attempted to calm myself and slow my breathing, when I felt Edward's fingers in my hair again. He gently brushed it aside, before moving his hand to my back, where his fingers trailed up and down my skin. His touch was soothing, almost healing, and blessedly distracting. Letting out my breath I relaxed a little, groaning softly as I did, but this time it wasn't wholly from self-pity.

"Is there anything I can get you, Bella?" he asked me, consciously lowering the tone of his voice.

"A glass of water," I mumbled. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow, and I had to get rid of the vile taste in my mouth before I threw up.

He removed his hand, before I felt the motion of him carefully get out of bed, but as the mattress dipped and then sprang back up, it was almost the end of me. I immediately groaned but took a deep breath, telling myself repeatedly that I would not throw up anywhere near the vicinity of Edward!

Even as I internally commanded myself to hold it together—as I watched Edward leave the room, wearing a pair of blue checked flannel pants that hung low on his hips—memories from the night before slowly began to trickle back through my consciousness.

Rach took me out, first to her sister's, and then to ... a bar. It was there that she kept pushing drink after drink at me until I finally gave in and started drinking them. After that it got hazy; I was with Edward, and then...

Oh, God!

My memories became even more confusing and disjointed, but I was pretty sure I spent the majority of the night throwing up in the bathroom, with Edward ... beside me.

Oh, God. Kill me.

I brought my hands to cover my face just as I was inundated with more memories that did nothing to give me comfort. Curling myself up into a ball, I buried my face behind my arms as the grimness of it became a mortifying reality.

I wanted to die.

I heard Edward come back into the room, before opening my eyes and peeking over at him. He smiled at me and my heart had the audacity to accelerate. He was smiling the way he usually did whenever I spoke something stupidly Australian, only this time it was laced with sympathy.

When he reached the bed he kneeled down in front of me and held a glass of water up, before opening his other palm to reveal two aspirins.

"Carol…" he said, still making an obvious effort to keep his voice soft.

I only nodded before clamping my eyes shut in a vain effort to shut out the realisation of last night's events. But it pushed through regardless, while my recollection of it ended with me sitting with Edward on the bathroom floor, crying over and over before he carried me to bed...

When I opened my eyes again Edward was looking at me, his head cocked, his eyebrows coming together. "You okay...?"

"No, but I will be," I spoke, my voice raspy, before scoffing out a noise that I'd intended to be a humourless laugh.

His smile twitched an inch wider; he almost chuckled to himself. In fact, he definitely seemed amused; though, he was looking at me with the amount of sympathy one has for a sick infant. If I was in any other frame of mind, I would have told him to stop, as it was, all my energy was going into my silent desperate prayers that I hadn't said or done anything the night before—that I couldn't yet recall—to make a complete idiot of myself.

Sighing, I reached over to take the glass from his hand.

"Do you think you can sit up?" he asked me, his voice reverting back to concern.

The idea did not appeal to me, especially with my renewed vow not to throw up in front of him—again. But I was horrendously dehydrated, and I couldn't drink the water lying on my face.

Taking a shaky, measured breath, I slowly and tentatively made the effort to at least attempt to pull myself up, but as soon as I moved only partially vertical my head began to ache so violently it started spinning. Groaning, I let myself fall back, face first into the mattress with a pathetic sounding sob.

"Oh God..." I moaned, covering my eyes from the light again.

I only heard Edward exhale shortly through his nose. I suspected he was chuckling to himself and when I looked up at him again he was giving me that smile.

I couldn't decide if it was annoying me more than it was mortifying me—not to mention how my body was physically reacting. It was something that was beginning to make me feel more unstable than the amount of alcohol no doubt currently coursing through my bloodstream.

"Edward, stop looking at me like that." I sighed with a strained voice as I attempted to combat my nausea. "I feel like death and I probably look just as horrendous."

This time he did chuckle. "You look like you've seen better days, Bella. I won't lie to you."

My only response was a fractured groan, only half derived from my pitiful state, because if I was being brutally honest with myself, it was all I could do not to smile.

Placing the glass on the bedside table, he gently pulled the pillow out from under me, before sitting beside me so that my head rested in his flannel covered lap.

He was still so warm, and sighing deeply, I lifted my arm so that it slung over his knees.

"Edward?" I asked softly after a moment.

He hummed in reply.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. What I said to you the other day—"

He interjected, just as I was instilled with a sense of deja vu. "Bella, I told you last night. it's okay…"

And just as the words left his mouth, I was engulfed by a memory of Edward telling me his history with Jacob. But still, it seemed so surreal and hazy that I wasn't totally convinced that it actually did happen.

I was lost in contemplation over it, glad for the distraction when I felt the back of Edward's fingers sweeping my hair back from my temple.

"Okay...?" he pressed me, gently.

I only nodded, but I was distracted again and this time it had nothing to do with the tone of his voice. I had to get up and drink the water because I was certain if I threw up again, my head would implode right along with it.

With a sudden bout of determination, I pushed myself tentatively upright. Edward supported me, but it wasn't enough to prevent the huge wave of nausea that quickly took hold of me.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, even as I shook my head, refusing to accept it.

"Bella..." I heard Edward speak, almost as if it were an echo from outside the room.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Just give me a minute," I whispered, taking deep, even breaths in an attempt to overcome it.

My head was hammering and I was so dizzy and light headed that I slumped up against Edward; whose arm immediately wrapped securely around me.

"Bella ... you're going green," he observed with a trace of alarm. "Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?"

I shook my head, sluggishly, continuing to breathe evenly, concentrating on nothing else, and to my relief the nausea and faintness eventually subsided. Though, for one horrifying moment I was completely convinced I would puke all over Edward's flannel pyjama pants.

However, when I opened my eyes the fact that I felt sicker than I'd ever felt in my entire life suddenly became completely irrelevant.

"Edward ... where are my clothes?" I was wearing only my underwear and a singlet top that I don't think I even owned, but was almost totally see-through. I wrapped my arms hastily across my chest self-consciously before dragging the Buzz Lightyear doona to cover myself.

"Erm..."

I looked up at him; he appeared somewhat amused but awkward at the same time.

"Did I throw up over them?" I asked, running a mortified hand through my hair, where it instantly became tangled.

"No," he replied, the amusement clearly in his tone as I worked to prise my fingers free of my matted excuse for hair. "You ..." he paused and cleared his throat subtly—it was like a stone dropping on my head, "you … were hot, so you took them off."

He was definitely sugar-coating it. Something that made me immediately groan only partially beneath my breath.

Needless to say, a raging case of beet red blushing really doesn't exist in harmony with the migraine from hell, and as the sense of humiliating inevitability descended over me, the pressure inside my head intensified; bringing the nausea right back to the forefront again.

Pulling the doona up to my face, I hid myself behind it, hoping the floor would open up and I could disappear for the next ten years. "Oh God..." I muttered.

"But partly to show me your belly ring," he added quickly, while delicately trying to tug the quilt back down from my face.

Pausing, I looked up at him, this time feeling my face crease deeply; convinced I'd heard wrong. "My ... what?"

"Your belly ring," he repeated. The smile again.

He was definitely amused again. In fact, he managed to pull it off with way too much charm, and it only succeeded in completely compromising and distracting me. I couldn't decide if it was a positive or not.

Tearing my eyes from his, I lowered the doona—all too conscious that my chest was practically in full view.

"I don't have a belly ring," I mumbled confused, but still adamant, as I inched my shirt up simultaneously.

Yes, I did...

"Bloody hell..."

There it was, glittering from my navel in full glory looking red and tender. I could only groan for the infinite time that morning, and this time successfully managing a full-fledged, humourless laugh.

Edward drew me closer to him, murmuring in my ear; still sounding altogether too charming for someone who was completely enjoying my predicament, "I actually kind of like it, but where the hell did you get it done?"

"Rach's sister," I answered, beginning to have vengeful, murderous thoughts.

"You were quite happy with it last night," he added, as if it would make me feel better.

I rubbed my forehead awkwardly, mortified by events that I could barely remember, while glad for it at the same time. "What else did I say last night?"

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know. I was trying not to throw up, and the embarrassment I was presently in did nothing to soothe my stomach.

He attempted to smother another chuckle—unsuccessfully; it vibrated lightly from his chest. "You said a few crazy things, then you got pretty sick, and then you were upset. That's about it."

It really didn't make me feel any better; especially, when I was positive he was deliberately omitting more.

I sighed; this time it was in resignation, and the fact that the longer I stayed upright, the more my head pounded and the fainter I became.

Seeming to read my thoughts, or the rapid pastiness I could feel my skin turning, Edward reached over, grabbed the glass of water and placed it gingerly in my hands.

Bringing it to my lips, I took a large gulp. My stomach churned violently, but I was too parched to care. It washed the grosser than hell taste from my mouth but didn't even come close to quenching my thirst.

"I'm guessing you want another one, then?" Edward asked me, taking the empty glass from my hands as I slumped against him.

I nodded, but I wasn't sure if my stomach would handle it. Right then it was working hard just to keep the first glass of water down.

"Just stay here for a minute," I whispered to him after a moment.

He tightened his arm around me and pulled me closer to him.

Letting go of the doona, that I'd kept up around me for the most part, I wrapped my arm around his waist and with the other I grabbed his hand. I was craving the emotional support from him as much as I was the physical contact.

"I didn't get a hangover; instead, I got a coma," Edward confessed lightly, before breaking into a soft chuckle that shook both of us gently.

I laughed shortly with him despite the fact that it was like being hammered in the head. "You're a dag."

I let the water slowly begin to digest before allowing Edward to get me another one. The second glass went down a lot easier; regardless that I took the tablets with it.

My next step was attempting to stand and walk. I really had to have a shower, but I was daunted by the idea of getting to the bathroom without passing out cold. My skin was itchy, salty almost, and I shuddered at the thought of what my breath was like. The only problem was I was still in my underwear.

"Um ... Edward, can you get my clothes?" I asked him, mumbling, and feeling my cheeks flame.

But instead of collecting my clothes from where they were lying strewn across the floor, Edward went to his suitcase and pulled out a white t-shirt.

"Here," he said, doing the charming thing again and pulling the shirt over my head. All the while he continued to smile, almost as if it was involuntary, and I wondered what he was so bloody happy about. Surely, my predicament wasn't that amusing, but I began to consider the fact—with growing guilt—that maybe he was just glad I wasn't being such a bitch to him anymore.

I pulled my arms through the sleeves. It was huge on me—enough that I could make it down the hall with some sense of modesty, at least. And it smelled ... like him.

"Okay, we'll do this quickly—like a band aid," he grinned at me. He was standing before me with both my hands in his.

I nodded but groaned openly at the prospect. "Okay…"

"One ... two ... three." And he pulled me to my feet—that almost collapsed beneath me—just as I was hit by a giant swell of dizziness.

I clung to him desperately. "Oh, God, Edward—lay me back down," I uttered, beginning to feel breathless.

"It'll pass, just hang on to me," he assured me gently, and eventually it did.

Clinging to his waist like a life line, I shuffled with him to the door. He walked slowly, carefully, conscious of my decrepit state, but my head refused to stop pounding. It was becoming excruciating and only made me weaker and more nauseated.

Somehow, I made it through the door and down the hall, moaning and whimpering away while Edward encouraged me; like he was the father in the birth video we'd watched not long ago. Which was pretty bloody pathetic.

"Aww, Bella, how you feeling?" I saw Alice's slippered feet just seconds before I was propelled further into Edward by the tone of her voice.

"Alice—not so loud!" Edward exclaimed, straining to keep his voice hushed.

"Oh—I'm sorry," she whispered, apologetically.

I glanced over at her and she flashed me a tender smile, only with a pout added to it.

"It's okay," I replied, my voice barely presenting with a sound.

"Jeez, Bells, you look like shit." Rach, but at least she had the decency to lower her voice.

I glanced up at her, about to scowl, but it faded from my expression before it took hold. Her eyes looked weary and her face was blotchy; as though she'd been crying all night.

"You owe me big time," I barely managed a speck of irritation.

A faint smirk lightened her expression. "Au contraire, I think you owe me." Her eyes rose, motioning to Edward.

I only closed my eyes and smothered the groan.

She was right, of course.

Edward softly snorted his breath, and when I looked up, Rach was sharing some kind of inside joke with him. In fact, they were finding it all too amusing for my tenuous stability to cope with.

Scoffing, though being conscious to make it more or less under my breath to spare my tormented head, I pushed from Edward's arms and made my way determinedly into the bathroom on shaky, wobbly legs. I wasn't really angry—more than I was embarrassed, at least, and there was absolutely no way I could be angry with Edward. My memories were coming back to me with a lot more clarity, and I was finding it almost too hard to fathom how wonderful he'd been without becoming overcome by it.

One thing was clear: he was officially my all-time favourite American.

I spent two minutes on my feet in the shower and ten sitting down. If I'd ever felt this terrible in my life, I definitely couldn't remember it. I hated the fact that I'd succumbed and got drunk—something I swore I would never do. But in a sense, I was glad Rach had talked me into it. I'd completely lost myself, and by the time Kel's funeral was over, I was so immersed in grief and guilt that I was genuinely afraid I wouldn't be able to find my way back from it.

I scrubbed myself clean, washed my hair, and brushed my teeth—three times—despite it making me gag. I was determined to wipe all traces of alcohol from my body, and that included the foul taste in my mouth. I felt tainted by it, and more so than the physical affect it was having on me.

By the time I staggered from the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around my body and hair, Edward and Rach were still in the hall waiting for me. I glanced up at Edward sheepishly, but he only gazed down at me so intently that I faltered. In fact, he was continuing to catch me off guard, and for a moment I felt flustered as if he was seeing me completely naked. But I knew it would take time to properly adjust to the fact that Edward now knew exactly who I was and where I came from.

"You've got some colour back, Bells," Rach observed with a further smirk.

I glanced over at her, glad for the distraction, and she flashed me a warm, affectionate smile. I returned it before my eyes inadvertently found Edward's again. He was still wearing his pyjama pants, while his hair was one big mess of tangles that made me want to run my fingers through it.

It was only for the fact that I was hit by another wave of dizziness that I tore my eyes from his and proceeded into Nummi's room. But instead of getting myself dressed, I flopped down on the bed and groaned. I was becoming impatient; I wanted this hang over to go away. It was threatening to hinder things, and I was eager to make up for my horrible behaviour to Edward—make up for the atrocious way I'd repaid him when all he'd done was come to Australia to support me.

Despite the mortification attached to it, the images from the night before stayed at the forefront of my mind, and the more I delved into them, the more I realised exactly how much Edward had been there for me. It was something that was taking me by surprise; almost as much as the physical counterpart.

I wanted to be close to him; every particle of who I was craved for him. It was so intense that I should have been scared by it. Whenever I started to feel more for Edward my first reaction had always been panic. I had become so programmed by worrying about him hurting me, but now, it was completely non-existent. In truth, I was more worried about hurting him.

Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift into blankness. It was then that it occurred to me that behind the hang over and the intensity of my emotions for Edward, I was feeling incredibly unburdened. In fact, it was so distinct I was surprised that I hadn't noticed it until now.

The burden of Kel dying—that I'd been carrying for what seemed like months—was completely gone. The undeniable pain I felt for her death was, of course, still lingering, but at the same time I felt a sense of acceptance. I'd finally let her go. I'd said goodbye and in turn it had freed me. I realised all the dreams I'd been having about her since the early days after the accident, was her trying to make me realise she was gone. I wanted to hang onto her forever, but I knew now that I didn't have to. She'd always be with me, no matter where I went, or what I did.

Just as she always had.

Taking a deep breath, I released it into one final, conceding sigh.

. . .

I lay on top of the bed for a while longer, relaxing in an effort to get on top of my nausea, when a sound so familiar to me, yet so foreign at the same time, made me sit up in absolute surprise.

Jumping off the bed, and ignoring my head as it protested violently, I rushed to the window.

It was raining.

More than that; it was pouring down. It was a sound that I'd become so accustomed to in Forks, but here in Rocherrie it was a very rare sight.

I almost gasped from the sight of it before my heart completely warmed and a sense of peace settled over me. It was a sign; a good omen. The rain had always signified my new life, and now I knew it was still on track.

Tentatively, I got dressed, conscious and annoyed by my shitty condition, before drying my hair. This was when Nummi, Rach and Alice came in the room.

"See? I knew she was okay, and not puking or passed out," Rach spoke up.

"Huh?" I asked blankly, switching off the blow-dryer.

"Edward made us come and check on you." Alice answered, rolling her eyes openly. "Otherwise, he was coming in himself."

I smiled to myself—noting Alice's form into a smirk—before hastily going back to blow-drying my hair; trying not to cringe from the sound of it.

"Tell him I'm fine," I said, my voice still sounding weak and raspy before I grimaced. Every time I spoke, the horrible taste flowed back into my mouth making me want to go and scrub my teeth again.

"So how much do you remember of last night, Bells," Nummi asked me, brushing her fingers across her mouth, not even bothering to conceal her evident amusement.

I felt my face flame. "Not a lot, and please don't fill in the blanks. I remember throwing my guts up with Edward holding my hair. That's enough to mortify me for life."

She chuckled. "I'll wait until you've recovered from it before I tell you, then."

"Thanks," I replied dryly.

"Anyway, Mum's made you a nice, hearty brekky of bacon, eggs and snags," Nummi added, her grin turning devious in advance of my all out groan.

"Oh, God, Nummi—stop!" I exclaimed, flinching from the volume of my voice while my stomach churned at the mere idea of it.

"Bells, if you can digest it, I guarantee it will cure you," Rach elaborated, continuing to find obvious humour in my situation.

"Shut up!" I cried, clamping my hand over my mouth.

Nummi laughed whole-heartedly, before walking over to me and wrapping her arm over my shoulder.

"It's good to have you back, Bells," she said warmly.

. . .

The second I spied the food on the breakfast table waiting for me, I all but threw up, and that was before I caught the smell of it. I froze, feeling the blood drain from my face as a horrible wave of faintness washed over me.

"I have to lie down," I whimpered pitifully behind the palm of my hand.

But Carol, smiling tenderly, came behind me, placed both her hands on my shoulders and gently led me to the chair before the plate of food. "Come on, Bella. You can do it."

To say I was reluctant was the understatement of my life. In fact, I was so reluctant my feet practically dragged along the tiled floor as I shook my head in protest, adamant that I couldn't.

It was torture. I'd take a bite, my stomach would churn and I'd have to lie my head on the table practically sobbing until the nausea passed. When I was finally brave enough to continue, Carol made me take a sip of the water she'd placed before me, before I was forced to start all over again.

She'd sent everyone into the living room while I ate; I was grateful she had. Apart from not wanting an audience, I did not want Edward anywhere near me, because I was positive there was no way I could possibly hold any of it down.

Somehow, I did, though; every last bite of it. It took me almost an hour, but by the time I'd swallowed the last morsel, the nausea was already easing. Carol forced me to finish the water before sending me off into the living room with a glass of orange juice.

"She survived!" Nummi teased me when I staggered into the room.

Still feeling horrendous and sickly full, I managed a weak smile before I set the OJ on the coffee table and crawled onto the sofa beside Edward. He immediately scooted over and curled his arm gently around my waist. It was then I noticed there was something discernibly different about him, and for a moment I only sat in thought, deliberating it, feeling my eyebrows pull together in confusion. His arms were just as warm as they always were, he still smelled the same; his eyes were just as intense...

It wasn't until he turned to face me and flashed me that completely self-assured—albeit uncertain—smile of his that I realised what it was.

Nothing was different about him, except the way I was now seeing him.

I'd let down my defences and had fully let him in; without the usual blinders, fear, or the reluctance I'd had in the past. Nothing stood in the way with the two of us anymore. There were no more hurdles to cross; nothing but a clear path before us.

He inclined his head to me. "What are you smiling to yourself about?" he murmured into my ear.

"I'll tell you later," I replied softly, keeping my voice low for his ears only. "I don't think they'd"—I motioned discreetly with my eyes to Rach, Nummi and Alice on the opposite sofa—"appreciate it in front of them."

He broke into a small grin, before it grew steadily broad.

He opened his mouth to reply, when Rach's voice interrupted him. "Okay, you two, quit staring star crossed into each other's eyes and help us pick a bloody movie!"

I turned to face her; she was smirking deliberately before rolling her eyes. "Any suggestions?"

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "I don't mind."

Sighing, she turned her attention to Edward. "What about you, Romeo?"

"Uh ... yeah, ditto," Edward mumbled, smiling slightly to himself

"Okay, just so you know, Nummi, Alice and I have all agreed on 'He's Just Not That Into You'."

Edward chuckled. "I don't think my vote would make a difference anyway, so it's cool."

Curling his arm tighter around my waist, I snuggling further against him to watch the movie; only he proved to be a little distracting.

It was as if he was restless and unsure where to put his hands. For the most part one remained against my hips around me, even as his fingers continuously twitched. Then without warning, he slipped his palm beneath my shirt, connecting with my skin, and immediately flooding me with warmth.

I almost jumped, and for a moment I paused, before nestling once more against him. I was too conscious of him, though; of where his hand was, and what it was evoking from me. Then slowly he inched it up, before he began caressing my skin with his fingertips.

I could feel myself begin to flush, and this time it was me who was beginning to feel restless. At the same time, I was continuing to struggle with the sluggishness that my waning hang over was causing me.

Leaning my elbow on his shoulder, I repositioned myself by curling my legs underneath me.

His hand slipped from beneath my shirt and he turned to me. His eyes canvassed mine for a moment before he finally spoke, "You feeling okay? You're fidgety."

Smiling at him, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and leaned in closer to answer him, "You're tickling me."

He did one of those chuckles through his nose, his smile broadening, before nuzzling his face into my neck, he murmured, "I've missed that smile."

Bloody hell!

I was still finding myself more than a little caught off guard by the charm of him. He was so bloody good at it.

"What smile?" I asked, shaking my head to myself and redirecting my thoughts.

"I'll tell you later," he replied, dropping his voice to barely a whisper.

Breaking into a warm smile, I relaxed further into him and rested my head on his shoulder.

Turning to face me, he pressed his lips against my forehead. "That smile."

I felt the grin curve on his mouth as his hot breath soaked through me, before he again turned back to the movie. And this time, instead of warming me with the feel of his hands on my bare skin, he pushed his fingers into the back pocket of my jeans.

My heart was becoming erratic, and I was positive it was reverberating against him; though, he didn't seem to notice. I pushed the breath from my lungs heavily; I felt completely at ease in his arms, but every square inch of my skin felt charged. Then instead of pushing my hand between my legs—which was something I often did—I pushed it between his.

We watched the rest of the movie without another word spoken, but with my mind and every molecule of my body too aware of Edward, I didn't really pay much attention to it. On top of this, Edward was so warm, and I was still so exhausted—physically and emotionally—from the night before, that by the time it was over I was all but asleep against him.

"So ... did you guys enjoy it?" Rach asked, turning a shrewd smile in our direction.

"It was a bit of a chick flick," Edward's deep voice spoke, while I caught it resonating through his chest. The sound of it was so hypnotising that a deep shuddering yawn escaped me.

They decided on a second movie; their choice making Edward groan good-naturedly.

"Come on, guys. You could at least put on one that Edward will be moderately interested in," I spoke up in his defence.

Alice glanced over at me and flashed me a dubious look while her lips pulled into a sly grin. "I don't think he's suffering too much."

"Only because this is the first time I've watched a movie with you, Alice, without Jazmina present," he spoke up.

Alice mockingly scowled at him, and when Edward chuckled it rocked us both gently, causing another wave of exhaustion to filter through me.

"The pair of you look like you're about to flake anyway," Nummi observed.

And flake we did.

I'm not sure when Edward fell asleep, but I lasted only about five minutes into the next movie. Lulled off to sleep by his deep, steady breathing.

To be cont…

A/N: It's so fluffy I'm gonna die? Too much fluff?

Anywho, hope you enjoyed.