Alistair extends an arm so he can lean on the wall, and in essence, trap me in the short corridor. I'd used the laundry bathroom, knowing that I would have more privacy there, and it seems to have backfired on me.
"Hello, Alistair," I say, trying hard to veil my fear. I can't look him in the eyes though, and the smirk on his face when I glance up makes me think that he can tell I'm frightened, and that he's enjoying it.
"You remember my name," he says proudly. "I'm glad I made an impression."
He laughs, too loudly, and I cringe.
"How are you enjoying the party, sweet thing?" I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off. "You must be loving it, all the men looking at you and how pretty you are, jealous of my nephew because he gets to spend so much time with you. I know I am."
He reaches out and runs his hand down my bare arm. Panic consumes me, my vision blurs and suddenly, I'm not in the corridor with him anymore.
I was sitting in the chair they always put us in when they had their fun. My hands were behind my back, my shoulders pulled in an uncomfortable angle. The blonde was circling around me, and I had no idea where the French man was. Every now and again, he'd reach out and trail his fingers across my skin, delighting in my attempts to flinch away and the sound of my whimpers.
"You are so lovely," he cooed in a raspy voice."So fucking sexy. I get hard just thinking about the things I could do to you, with you tied in this chair, just like that. God, the fun I could have."
He reached out and pinched my chin between his fingers, forcing my lips to pucker slightly. I forced my eyes to remain open, my expression to stay blank, because I refused to break down. He leaned in, close enough so I could smell him. I tried not to gag.
"Look at those lips. You have cock-sucking lips, girl. Fucking gorgeous."
He'd never take it further than that, or try to touch me anywhere inappropriate. He just liked watching me panic, and wonder if this time might be the time that he did something. All I could do was sit there and try to block out his words and touches.
"Don't touch me!" I yell, much too loudly. I yank my body backwards, bumping into the closed bathroom door behind me. I'm trapped.
"Hey now," Alistair persists, taking a step towards me with his arms raised. "No need to get all narky."
The rudimentary self-defence training seminar we received in sophomore year kicks in and I burst into action. My knee swings up and I shove it into his groin with as much force as I can muster. His body folds over, bringing his face within my reach, so I smash the heel of my hand into his nose. I hear a satisfying crunch and a loud groan as he falls to the floor.
Suddenly, I realise what I've done. I've retaliated, and I've hurt this man, who is Esme's family. I'm going to be punished savagely for this. I leap over his body and dart up the stairs as fast as I can, tears streaming down my face. I run into my room and slam the door violently. I fall to my knees, fumbling with the lock on my door, which won't seem to cooperate with my shaking hands.
Finally, finally, it clicks into place, and I crawl into the corner of the room, furthest away from the door, and my pending retribution. My legs are tucked up to my chest, so I'm as small and invisible as possible. I'm sobbing, my breathing so shallow and quick that I feel as if I'm suffocating. I try to calm myself, because silence will protect me, even if it is for a few more moments until they can find me.
The doorknob rattles, a sickening sound. Someone is here.
"Bella!"
I can hear Esme's voice.
"Bella!"
Carlisle now.
They must be so angry. I'm terrified. They're going to punish me brutally for this. I know I probably deserve it, but that does nothing to alleviate the fear. The rattling stops and I hear footsteps. They're leaving. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that I've managed to avoid the inevitable, if only for a little while.
The door to the shared bathroom swings open then. I didn't think to lock it. I scream, both with surprise and with fear. I can't subdue myself.
"I'm sorry!" I shout desperately, in the vain hope that my apologies will lessen their anger. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry!" I continue crying out, begging for forgiveness and leniency, knowing it will do me no good. Esme starts coming towards me, and my pleas get louder, more panicked as she closes in.
I know I should just take whatever is coming to me, but freedom has weakened my resolve, made me vulnerable once again. I long for my mattress, for the disgusting bathroom and everything that used to make me strong. More than anything, I wish for Edward.
Carlisle takes Esme's arm and pulls her back slightly. Confusion breaks through the cloud of terror. Why is he doing this? He whispers something to her and she leaves the room.
"Bella," Carlisle says, holding his hands up, palms forward. My shaking becomes even more violent.
"I'm so sorry, Carlisle," I sob, "I didn't mean to hurt him. You have to believe me! Please!" My voice is getting hoarse, but I keep begging, because it's my only hope.
Esme returns, and I know it's about to start. I stop begging, but the screams and sobs are still coming strong, although I wish they wouldn't.
"Bella," Carlisle speaks again and I flinch like I've been tazed. "You have to calm down. You need to breathe. No one is going to hurt you."
When he lies to me, some deep anger is unleashed. I glare up at them, every fibre of hatred in me rising to the surface.
"I don't believe you," I spit. I'd heard that line too many times to count. When they say I won't be hurt, I end up hurt even worse than usual.
My anger evaporates when Edward steps into the room, panting and confused. Pure, unbridled terror takes its place when I see him. If he's here, he's going to try and take some of the punishment for me. I can't allow that.
"Get out!" I yell at him. "Edward, go!"
His face turns from confusion to horror.
"What the fuck is going on in here?" he says, looking at his parents with a violent expression. The same violent expression that used to get him in so much trouble.
"Get out!" I scream.
"Fuck that, Bella," he says and crosses the room to me. I'm a hysterical mess, shaking violently and covered in tears and snot. My throat feels like I've been swallowing razor blades, but I have to keep fighting. He leans down in front of me and I shove at him violently.
"Get out of here, you can't be here."
"And why the fuck is that, exactly?" he asks, his tone derisive.
"Because I won't let them hurt you. It was my fault. You can't… I won't let…"
Tears overwhelm me again, and breathing seems an impossible task. I'm gasping, pulling my hands through my hair and using my legs to kick at him, to try and force him from the room.
"Bella, they're my parents, " he says and kneels before me, grabbing onto my flailing legs to still them. "They're not going to hurt you. Why would they ever do that?" He turns to his parents. "Why the fuck does she think you're going to hurt her?"
"Don't speak like that to them," I hiss at him. "Don't get yourself in trouble as well. You need to leave."
"I don't know what happened!" Esme cries. "We found Alistair outside the laundry bathroom, his face covered in blood and what looked like a broken nose."
Edward's head swivels back to me, and he looks murderous.
"What the fuck did he do to you?"
"Nothing," I sob, "it was my fault. I shouldn't have… I just…" I look over at his parents. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear!"
"Fuck nothing," he growls, "tell me."
"He… he touched me, and I panicked and hit him."
I can hear Esme gasp from across the room.
"He touched you?" Edward stands up abruptly. "Where the fuck is he? I'll fucking kill him."
"No, no!" I cry and wrap my hands around his ankles to hold him in place. "He just touched my arm, but something… and I hit him! I didn't mean to, but I did, and I'm sorry, and I know how much trouble I'm in, but I didn't mean to! Please, you have to believe me!"
My eyes are darting between Edward and his parents as I ramble. Esme's hands are covering her mouth, so I can see nothing of her expression. Carlisle's jaw is clenched tight, just like Edward's. He looks angry, so I force myself back closer to the wall instinctively. Maybe if I push hard enough, it will swallow me.
"Edward," he addresses his son. "You stay here with Bella. I'll deal with this."
"No!" Edward shouts, and I flinch at the aggression. "This is my responsibility."
"No, son. Stay here." Carlisle swiftly walks back through the bathroom, Esme following behind. Edward sighs heavily and then looks down at me.
"Come here," he says, reaching down to scoop me up in his arms. He places us down on the bed, but holds onto me. He spreads his legs and I rest between them, my head against his chest while I sob. He fiddles with my hair with one hand, the other resting on my knee.
"I didn't mean to do it," I blubber over and over again. "You know I didn't mean it. I'd never... I'd never!"
"I'm fucking glad you did. At least one of us got to make him bleed, even if it wasn't me. I'm so proud of you, baby."
"I just… he touched me, and I started thinking about… and I snapped. I kicked him in the crotch and hit him in the face. I didn't know what I was doing!"
"You got him in the balls?" Edward laughs, his voice coarse and reflecting his stress. "You're amazing, do you know that?"
I shake my head against his chest, blown away by how cavalier he's being about this.
"I'm just sorry I wasn't there when this happened. It's my job to keep you safe, and I fucked it up. I didn't even know where you went."
"You looked busy so I just went to the bathroom. He found me on my way out."
An uncharacteristically awkward moment passes between us as I try to regulate my breathing.
"I'm never busy when it comes to you. Especially when some asshole is putting his hands on you."
"You didn't know it was going to happen. You were talking to your friend, so I walked off. It was my stupid fault for going to the bathroom so far from the party."
Edward tenses again.
"Do you think he followed you?"
"No," I say hastily, because I can't deal with that possibility. "It was just bad timing. Really, I made a big deal of nothing. He just touched my arm and I freaked out."
The hand on my knee clenches into a fist.
"No, you didn't make a big deal of nothing. He shouldn't ever have fucking touched you."
I pull on his fist, lifting it and loosening his fingers. I can feel the calming effect of contact with him warring with the instinctual panic still flowing through my veins. It's somewhat dulled, but still present.
"I'm fine. I just… Esme must be so angry with me."
"Of course she's not. She's devastated that anyone would upset you like that."
"It was my fault," I repeat again.
"No, it fucking wasn't." His voice is firm, so I let it go, because I've completely lost the energy to struggle over this anymore. I play with his hand and he plays with my hair in silence for a while.
"About the girl…" He trails off, sounding a little nervous, and very un-Edward.
"You don't have to explain anything to me," I say quickly, loosening my grip on his hand. I don't really want to hear about her right now. Or ever.
"No, I do," he insists. "She was… well, we were… involved a few times before everything happened." It takes me a moment to realise what those words mean, and once I do, I wish that I didn't.
"Ok…" I say when he doesn't continue, because I'm confident there's more to the story, and I'm perversely intrigued.
"Apparently, she thought that I was interested in more than that with her, and since I've been gone, she's been trying to pick up the role of worried girlfriend. Something she most definitely is not."
"Oh."
"So… yeah. That's the story behind her. I'm sorry if her theatrics made you uncomfortable earlier, and I'm so fucking sorry that I wasn't there for you because I was dealing with that bullshit."
"It's fine."
"No, it's really fucking not."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Now that the fear has receded, I'm angry. Angry that she acted like that, angry that he seemed receptive at the time, and angry that I didn't know any of this prior to now. Not to mention angry, frightened, and devastated by what transpired with Alistair.
I move away from his body and lie down on my bed, facing away from him. "I'd like to sleep."
"Ok…" His voice is nervous, and it doesn't suit him at all. "Do… do you want me to stay?"
"No," I respond quickly. "You have guests to keep entertained."
"Fuck them, I'll stay here if you want me to," he offers.
A long pause fills the room with almost suffocating tension.
"I don't."
There is silence. I feel the bed shift as he climbs off it, and hear the sound of his shoes hitting the tiled bathroom floor. Although I asked him to leave, the dull ache I always feel when he's not around resonates in my chest. I can't reconcile my irrational anger with my equally irrational need to have him around at all times.
"Edward?" I call, and hear his quick footfalls as he walks back towards me.
"Yes?"
His voice is hopeful. I don't look at him.
"Can you ask Alice to come here?"
"Oh." The hope is gone. "Alright, sure."
"Thanks," I murmur and push my face further into my pillow. I'm praying that the comfort Alice brings me will help to substitute the relief only Edward can offer.
He leaves the room and the tears start falling. My face stings as the salt water assaults them, still red and tender from my previous crying jag. The confusion is dizzying. I can't understand why I'm so upset, why that girl being anywhere near Edward makes me want to smack her in her beautiful face. I'd always thought my feelings towards Edward were merely protective, but this makes me think that perhaps they're out of control.
He's not mine. Not anymore. Since we left the room our bond has been fading, and every day we spend out in the world, the string that ties us together loosens a bit more.
The very idea of that makes breathing seem impossible.
"Bella, honey?"
Alice is here. I roll over so I can look at her, and he faces crumples with sympathy when she takes me in, curled up in a ball, sobbing like a child on my gigantic, overdressed bed.
I'd give anything for my mattress.
"Oh, Bella," she coos softly and doesn't hesitate to get in beside me. She reaches out for my hands, knotted together against my chest, and unwraps them, taking them in hers.
"I'm going to lose him," I choke out.
"No, you're not," she says firmly. I ignore her.
"I am! He's back at home now, with his family and his friends and his life and the beautiful girl who wants to be his girlfriend! How can I ever compete with that? He's everything I have Alice, I can barely breathe without him in the room, and I'm losing him. What am I going to do?"
"Bella, you need to listen to me," she says lowly, "you aren't going to lose him. What you two went through will bond you for life, and -"
"It's not enough!" I cry, cutting her off. "There's no reason for him to want me around now that he's back with the people he cares about, and chooses to be around. If anything, I'm an unwanted reminder of what we went through, clinging to him and holding him back from getting on with his life!"
I feel a sharp sting on my exposed cheek. I gape at Alice, completely shocked that she'd hit me.
"I'm sorry," she apologises quickly, "but you're being ridiculous."
"Am I?" I ask darkly. It doesn't seem that irrational to me. I can't bridge the two sides of me; the one that knows I should let him go, and the one that keeps telling me that I'll die if we're separated.
"Yes, you are. You would never ditch him, right?"
"Of course not." I'm offended she even needs to ask.
"So why do you assume that he wants to ditch you as well?"
I sigh deeply. The tears have yet to stop streaming down my face, and I'm feeling light-headed and completely exhausted.
"How could he not?" My words are a whisper, near silent as I fight against the exhaustion.
She gives me a withering look. I try to frame words, to explain my fear and my insecurities, but I can't. I need him so much, and I can't fathom that he could possibly depend on me with the intensity that I do him.
"I'm going to lose him, Alice." My eyes are closed, and I'm resigned, although I don't know how I'll cope when it happens.
"Bella, stop this now."
"I'm tired. I want to sleep."
"Bella."
"No. I want to sleep now."
Alice sighs, hugs me quickly and climbs off the bed. I'm finally as alone as I feel. I let my fear consume me, feel it claw at my insides in an attempt to break me completely. I wallow in the feeling, making no attempt to console or distract myself as it rips through me over and over. Sleep evades me, despite my tiredness. This feels almost fitting, just another layer of discomfort for me to deal with.
I don't know how much time passes as I lay there, giving myself over to the agony coursing through my veins. Without warning, the mattress beneath me moves, and I'm too tired to even open my eyes and see who's abruptly so close.
I don't care.
An arm slides over my waist and I'm pulled into a hard chest. Calm floods through me, so strong and overwhelming that I can't contain it. My hands dig into his t-shirt and my face presses into his chest as the tears restart. His arms wind around me, holding me to him and I feel his lips on my forehead.
"Shhhh," he coos, barely audible. "Just sleep. It's ok now. I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."
They are the last words I hear before sleep takes me at last.
AN: Betcha didn't see that shitstorm of insanity coming, huh?
Leave me love, and twitter me up - netrasexual.
*smooch*