We pull up at a house that is somehow, even larger than my own. I'm nervous now. This place is not only gigantic, but completely unknown to me.
"Edward, I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"Don't worry," he soothes, somehow sensing the cause of my distress, "it's just my place. I wouldn't have brought you here if it wasn't safe. The only thing you have to fear is my family."
I laugh despite my nerves and he jumps out of the car. A moment later my door is open and he's extending a hand to me. I take it and he pulls me from my seat, keeping his hold on me as we walk towards the house. It reminds me of the south, unsurprisingly. In the light of the dusk, it looks magnificent.
As we're walking up the steps, I realise that I've lived in three places in the last week. Our room, my home, and now Edward's house. I laugh at the preposterous idea. Just a week prior I thought I'd die in that room, and now I feel like a nomad. Edward looks at me questioningly when he hears my low giggle. I just shrug.
He opens the large front door and pulls me inside. The house is decorated in whites and beiges, but despite the size and colour palette, it has a distinctly warm feeling. I suspect Esme is behind this, and she's done an amazing job.
"Bella, sweetheart! You're here!"
Esme is gliding down the large, curving staircase in the foyer. She's surreal, like something out a movie. She pauses two steps before the bottom and then gestures me to meet her.
"Come on now, your things are in your room."
Hesitantly, I make my way over to her, Edward in tow. I'm too unfamiliar with my surroundings to let him go, but he comes along willingly. She leads us both up the stairs and to the left, pointing out the doors and telling me what's behind them. When we reach the end of the hall, she opens one of the doors.
"This will be your room," she announces grandly.
Of course, it's beautiful. Soft cream carpet, dark wooden furniture and a four poster bed covered with what looks like luxurious, not to mention expensive sheets. My bags are sitting beside two doors I assume lead to a closet.
"This door," she says with a flick of her hand, "leads to your bathroom. You actually will have to share it, but it's only with Edward, and from what I can see, the two of you seem comfortable with that. In fact, you seem to prefer it." She giggles sweetly. Edward presses his palm to his face, mortified. I just laugh.
She points at her son and then at me, shifting her finger between us accusingly.
"No funny business though. Not in my house."
As quickly as her firmness appeared, it's gone again.
"Let me know if you need anything sweetheart," she coos and then sweeps from the room. I busy myself until bedtime by unpacking and organising my clothes so that they hang exactly as they did at home. It's silly, but somehow makes me feel a little better about being in a strange house. Edward helps until I exile him to the bed for mocking my particular system and purposely trying to derail it by handing me the wrong things. He also surfs through my ipod, commenting as he goes. More than once, I throw a t-shirt, or in extreme cases, a shoe, at him. He just laughs and continues ridiculing me.
The teasing and banter distracts and calms me. I suspect that was part of his plan.
We're sitting on the bed, arguing about nothing when Carlisle knocks on the open door. He's wearing a t-shirt and sleep pants with bare feet. I almost laugh with surprise. He always looks so professional. Edward takes one look at his father and immediately tenses. I reach for his hand, because Edward being tense makes me nervous.
"Ok," Carlisle says, his voice loaded with reticence, "I know you won't be especially excited about this, but I think it's crucial to see what we're dealing with here. So, I'm going to ask that the two of you sleep in your respective rooms tonight."
Edward exhales heavily. Somehow, the sound is full of anger.
"Edward, I know you don't want to do this, but it's important that we gauge the extent of your... bond. Remember, you two are side by side, separated only by your bathroom, which you can both enter easily. I just think you should see if the knowledge that you are close by is enough to calm you. Charlie and Esme think this is an important step as well. If it doesn't work we can re-evaluate tomorrow."
Edward opens his mouth, presumably to cuss out his dad, but I squeeze his hand and cut him off.
"Ok."
Both Carlisle and Edward look at me, shocked. I turn to Edward first.
"We should just do what he says. There's no reason to fight him on this." If I can avoid what happened at dinner between Edward and Charlie happening again, I will. I turn back to Carlisle.
"If it doesn't work, we can go back to the other way?" I clarify. He nods, still surprised at my easy acceptance. Truthfully, I'm terrified, but this is Carlisle's house and I'm definitely not going to defy him.
I nod.
"We'll try it."
Edward sighs, resigned.
"You get one night. If it doesn't work, too bad. And we keep our bathroom doors open."
"Absolutely." Carlisle is thrilled. "Thank you, both of you."
Edward grunts in acknowledgement, and I do my best to smile. Carlisle bids us goodnight and leaves the room.
"I can't fucking believe we're doing this," Edward grumbles as he stands. He starts making his way over to his room.
"Wait!" I climb off my bed, and start pacing slow even steps until I reach his bed. "16 steps. That's all. It's not even really that far."
He laughs despite his annoyance with me.
"You are so weird."
"Shut up."
"Goodnight, Bella."
"See ya."
I stroll flippantly out of the room until I feel a pair of arms enclose me from behind. I smile hugely.
"See ya?" he mocks. "What the fuck was that?"
I turn in his arms so that we're face to face and shrug casually. His expression darkens. I try to twist out of his grip but his hold is steadfast. He tosses me over his shoulder and I squeal as he carries me into my room. One of his arms is holding down my flailing legs, the other is tickling at my ribs. He's also counting aloud as he tortures me.
"...11...12." He flops me down onto my bed. "I knew you were exaggerating."
"I was not. You just have freakishly long limbs," I sneer at him.
"6'2" is a perfectly natural height, whereas - what are you, 4 foot nothing? - is anything but, my dear little Bella." He exaggerates the word 'little' in the sentence, just to annoy me.
"I am 5'6", thank you very much. Go away."
I scowl and crawl under my covers, rolling away from him. He laughs at first, but stops when he starts to suspect that I'm not kidding around. He walks around to the other side of the bed and squats down so he's looking me in the eyes. I poke my tongue out at him and roll over. I'm stalling, trying to drag out our time together until I have to be on my own.
Suddenly, he's on top of me, his knees straddling my stomach. I'm pinned to the bed, and his fingers are tickling at my sides again.
"Stop!" I cry, but he laughs and ignores me.
"Are you still grumpy with me?" he taunts like he's talking to a crabby five year old.
"Yes," I pout, squirming away from him as best I can.
He tickles harder.
"Alright! I'm not, I'm not!"
He stops immediately.
"Good." He swoops down and kisses my forehead then climbs off and leaves the room. He's whistling cheerfully. The boy will be 18 in a month, and behaves like he's 12. It's infuriating, but strangely endearing.
"I hate you!" I call out to him, because I can be childish too.
"No you don't!" he calls back. I scowl, and settle down into the bed. It's way too soft, but I figure that I should try to behave like an adult and just deal with it. Thankfully, there's only two pillows on the bed. From what little I know of Esme, there were probably a lot more, but she removed them for me. What a lovely woman.
I sigh and roll over.
Edward is right next door. There's no reason to panic.
"Edward?" I call quietly. Just to make sure.
"What's up?" I hear his disembodied voice and smile.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Bella."
It takes me an eternity to get comfortable, but eventually, I manage to drift to sleep.
I wake to a noise.
Someone is downstairs.
I sit upright in my bed, straining to listen for whatever is happening. I hear the sound of a stair creaking. I throw myself out of my bed and take the sixteen steps to Edward as quickly as I can.
"Edward! Wake up!" I whisper-yell.
"Huh? Wha's goin' on?" he mumbles sleepily. I shake his shoulder to rouse him and his eyes open blearily. As soon as he sees me, his eyes snap fully open and he sits up.
"Bella, what's wrong?"
"There's someone coming up the stairs," I breathe. "We have to get out of here." My eyes dart around the room, evaluating points of exit, because we can't go through his bedroom door, we'd walk straight into whoever is coming up.
"Come here," he murmurs, his eyes focused on the door. He reaches out for me and pulls me down onto the bed, inclining himself between me and the door. I grab a fistful of his t-shirt, as if I can hold him here.
"Shhhh," he tells me, and I realise that I'm almost hyperventilating. I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself. He listens, and we hear another creak. I yelp under my hand, and he reaches behind himself to unknot my hand from his shirt. He squeezes once, and releases it. Then, to my confusion and terror, he stands up and starts moving towards the door.
"Edward, no!" He looks at me over his shoulder.
"Stay the fuck where you are. Do not move."
He slowly turns the knob on his bedroom door and slips out into the darkness of the hall. Suddenly, my fear evaporates, replaced by a burning need. I have to keep Edward safe however I can. I climb out of bed and follow him. I'm almost to the door when I hear a loud cry followed by a bang and the sound of glass breaking.
For an instant, I feel like my heart has climbed out of my body.
Edward's hurt, and it's my fault.
I've failed him yet again with my weakness.
I bolt out into the hallway. Edward has someone pinned to the wall by the throat. Although I relax slightly, his proximity to our would-be attacker still frightens me.
The hallway light comes on, temporarily blinding me.
"Edward, put him down!" Carlisle's voice is measured and professional, but underneath it is panic. I look over to him standing in the hallway, with Esme behind him. I look back to Edward, only to see that there was no intruder. Emmett's skinny body is pinned to the wall, Edward's forearm over his throat and a broken glass at his feet, water spreading across the floorboards.
"Oh my god," Esme murmurs.
His mother's voice seems to break Edward from his haze and he drops his hold on his brother. Emmett leans back against the wall in complete shock, sinking slowly to the floor. Edward takes two steps backwards, teetering dangerously close to the staircase, so I dart over, grabbing onto his arm.
"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, fuck, Fuck!"
I pull him away from the broken glass and back towards his room. Esme rushes over to her youngest son, helping him up. Carlisle surveys the scene before him and then follows Esme.
I lead Edward back over to his bed. He sits down and presses his face into his hands, his elbows on his thighs. I take a seat beside him, wrapping my arms around him as best I can. It's the only thing I can think to do that might help him feel a little better.
"I didn't fucking know," he mumbles. "I didn't know it was him."
"I know you didn't." He doesn't have to explain himself to me at all.
"I just... fuck. I thought someone was going to... I can't risk anyone hurting you again... Fuck!"
I flinch back from the sudden change in pitch.
"... And now I'm scaring you too. I'm so fucking..."
A quiet sob cuts off his words. My mouth falls open in shock. Edward was always so strong when we were away. I was always the hyper-emotional, unstable one. Seeing this side of him, his fear, nearly kills me. I shove his arms away from his face and climb into his lap, wrapping my legs around his torso. His head falls to my shoulder, and I feel wetness on the exposed skin left by my tank top. I slide my hands into his hair, massaging the nape of his neck with my fingertips as he lets it all out.
"Shhh," I coo, trying to be supportive, as he always was for me. "It's ok, Edward. Emmett will understand, and so will your parents. I thought it was something bad too. It's not your fault, it was an easy mistake to make. Shhh, it's ok. We'll be ok." I continue murmuring like this until his breathing regulates slightly and the tears stop. Slowly, he pulls back from my shoulder and looks at me.
His face is tear-streaked and red, and I can barely stand to see him like this. It doesn't matter though. Not in the slightest. I press my forehead to his and slide a hand out of his hair to wipe away his tears.
"It's ok. I promise it's going to be ok."
"Don't leave me," he murmurs.
"I won't. Not ever."
As if he even has to ask.
We hold eye contact, completely motionless. A wordless conversation passes between us. I tell him how much I need him, how I trust him and that I would never leave. He tells me how scared he is, and that he would do anything to keep us together and safe. I wonder how someone can make me feel strong, like a protector, but so weak, like I need him just to breathe.
"Thanks," he says quietly.
"You're welcome." I lean up and kiss his forehead, because it always made me feel better when he did it.
He settles his head back down in the crook of my neck. We sit like this for an age, my hands moving through his hair, his hands around my waist and my legs around his body. I'm using every inch of myself to comfort him, giving him everything I have. I let my chin rest on his shoulder, our ears touching. He's helped me in ways he can't even fathom since I've known him, and knowing that I can do something to ease his suffering brings a flicker of relief in this mess.
I hear a soft gasp and my head pops up to see who it came from. I put my hand on the back of Edward's head protectively, holding him to me, but he doesn't even flinch at the noise.
Esme is standing in the doorway, in her lovely cream satin nightdress and matching robe. I smile weakly at her, trying my best to assure her that everything's fine. Or as fine as it could be, all things considered.
"Thank you," she mouths. I nod minutely in acknowledgement and she blows a kiss at us then pulls Edward's door closed. The louder noise catches Edward's attention.
"Who was that?" he murmurs, his voice muffled by my shoulder.
"Your mom."
"I'm such a fuck up," he says, almost just to himself. I start moving my fingers through his hair, trying to calm him.
"You are not." I state, quietly but firmly. "You're perfectly fine."
He snickers throatily, understanding the humour in my words, and I can feel him smirking a little against my skin. His body relaxes again against me, and as we sink back into our own little world once more, my feeling of contentment starts to return.