"I'm an asshole."
I want to argue with that statement, but I'm too surprised to say anything because Edward is standing at my front door.
Edward is standing here, after three days of absolutely no contact wherein I convinced myself that he probably hates me. I'd spent every minute since the horrible phone conversation fighting the temptation to just pack my bags and go back to the Cullens' house, but I hadn't done it, because I was sure in the belief that he'd forgive me, even if it took him a while.
This is the right thing for us.
So, when he turns up, I can't speak. Instead, I just look at him, trying to convince myself that this is real.
"Uh... hi."
That's the best I can come up with. He looks at me questioningly, presumably trying to figure out why my brain function has decreased so significantly since he's been standing in front of me. I lean against the doorframe, trying to fight back the part of my mind that's sure this isn't real.
"Bella, are you ok?"
"Oh... uh, yeah I'm fine. Just surprised."
"Suprised that I pulled my head out of my ass so quickly?" he asks with a sad smile.
I smile gently back, and his becomes more genuine.
"So, can I come inside maybe?"
"Sure, come on in."
I step to the side and he enters, brushing his hand across mine as he does. He waits until I lead the way into the living room, seating myself on the large couch. He hesitates, probably unsure as to whether or not our old standards of contact apply, so I pat the cushion beside mine in invitation. He looks a little relieved, and seats himself.
A bizarrely awkward silence passes between us, and I wish I'd had some music playing or something before he arrived - anything to diffuse this tension.
"This is really fucking uncomfortable," he starts with a rueful laugh.
"Yeah, it's weird."
"Do you mind if I...?"
He reaches his hand out and I take it, feeling a little better at once.
"I missed you so fucking much, Bella."
"I missed you too."
I mean what I say, even though I don't regret my choice.
"I was a total asshole."
"I understand why you were upset."
But I'm not denying he was an asshole.
A long silence passes between us as we re-orient ourselves around one another. He holds onto my hand, and I settle back into the comfort of his presence, even if it is marred with all the tension and awkwardness caused by my leaving. I hate that I did this to us.
It was the right thing to do.
"I had a meeting with Marcus," he says, breaking the silence. "Two, actually."
"How did it go?"
"Yeah... they were hard, and I got pretty pissed off at first, but I think it'll be ok."
I try to act casual, despite my almost unbearable desire to know every minute detail. Eventually, he continues.
"I spent alot of time yelling at him... and then he yelled at me back. It was really fucking full on, but he made me realise that my anger doesn't really get us anywhere, you know? I don't feel better, and neither does anyone else."
Wow.
I'm amazed, and curious about this Marcus fellow.
"I also told him about you... well, I told him lots of things about you, and how great you are despite my insanity, but specifically, I told him about you leaving. I think... even though it fucking sucks and at first, I was really really pissed off and hurt... you might be right. Marcus said he was, and I quote, impressed with your maturity in handling what must have been a difficult situation, particularly with my propensity to behave like an infant when I don't get my way."
I can't help but laugh a little at that, and Edward is smiling gently too.
"Am I really that hard to deal with?"
His question is laced with insecurity, even though he's trying to sound playful.
I pull my legs up onto the couch and swivel so I'm facing him.
"Yeah, you sometimes are... but it's ok, I guess. You know how strongly I feel about you, even when you let your tendency for... dramatics... get the better of you. I understand it, probably better than anyone."
"But you don't act like a fucking serial killer whenever you don't get what you want."
"I act completely differently, but no less healthily," I confess. He looks like he doesn't believe me.
"Do you remember what I was like after the party, when your uncle touched me?"
His eyes narrow and his free hand clenches into a fist.
"I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"That's what I always feel like doing whenever things get to scary for me... it's not like what you do, but it's definitely not good."
Understanding seems to light his face as he thinks over what I've said.
"Seeing me like that hurts you, just like seeing you get so angry you can't control yourself hurts me. That's why I wanted you to talk to someone, and from the sounds of things, you might have found someone who can help you."
He smiles, just a tiny bit.
"Yeah, Marcus is an asshole, but we... understand each other, at least a bit. That sounds fucking stupid, I know."
I shake my head and roll my eyes playfully, because it doesn't sound stupid at all.
Boys.
"So what have you been doing in the last few days?" I ask, eager for a change in topic.
"Absolutely fucking nothing. How about you?"
Trying to hold myself together without dying from guilt at how much I hurt you.
"About the same."
I think he can tell that I'm lying, because he strokes the back of his free hand across my face in a reassuring gesture. I push on, eager to avoid yet another difficult conversation.
"Checker is grumpy with me, I don't think he likes it here."
Edward perks up at the name of his best friend.
"Where is Chubs? I've missed him!"
I lead Edward out the back, where Checker is sulking in the pen that Charlie erected for him. He has all the amenities he had at the Cullen house, but he misses them, I can tell.
"Hey bud!" Edward calls as soon as the puppy is in sight, and the mass of fluff goes completely wild at the very sound of his voice. He's jumping around the pen, standing up on two legs and trying anything he can to get over to his beloved Edward, who is laughing as he jogs over and lifts him out of his pen.
"How are you doing, Chubs?"
Checker responds by attempting to lick his face off. Edward laughs and holds him back slightly as the puppy very nearly vibrates with happiness in his arms.
"Calm down bud, it's only been a few days," he laughs, then places him on the ground, crouching over his little body. Ear scratching, playful taunting and patting ensue as they reaquaint themselves after what was apparently an excruciating absence, and I can't take my eyes off the pair of them.
It's just so damn cute.
"Should I go inside and leave you guys alone to cuddle, or..." I tease, and Edward's head snaps around as if he's actually forgotten that I'm here. I giggle at his slightly bewildered expression. He stands, lifting a deliriously happy-looking Checker into his arms, and walks back over to me.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away there. You know you're my favourite."
He says it in such a condescending tone that I both roll my eyes and fight back a smile. He gives Checker a little more love and then places him back in his pen, swearing that he'll see him soon and take him for a proper run, which he correctly assumes I haven't done.
After their emotional farewell, he returns to my side and we head back indoors. Tentatively, he reaches for my hand, and I take it willingly, hoping I can reassure him that not everything we have is going to change.
"I missed you," I say quietly, a little overwhelmed by the truth of my own words. I'd been focusing so hard on how important it was for us to do this that I'd completely ignored just how much I enjoy his company. I relish it now, because it's not assumed and not indefinite.
This feels very much like a step in the right direction.
"At the risk of sounding like a total pussy, it makes me really happy to hear that."
I laugh and lean my head against his arm when he pulls us both back down onto the couch. He reaches for the remote and settles on one of the Harry Potter movies, the one with the tournament. I try hard to pay attention, and his eyes are focused on the screen as well, but I can sense the unspoken words hanging in the air between us, the anticipation of something that neither of us is entirely sure how to act on.
He lifts his arm wraps it around my shoulder, allowing my face to rest on his chest. The muscles are more defined here, as with everywhere else on his lean form, a result of his training. He's by no means a muscle-head, but it's noticable. He smells like himself and clean laundry, so lovely and warm and it spurs me into action. I sit upright and he meets my eyes immediately, his own full of questions.
Rather than making some assinine comment, I simply wrap my hand around his neck and pull myself forwards slowly, until our mouths are almost touching. Almost, because I'm not sure.
"Is this ok?" I murmur, beguiled by his proximity and struggling a little to pay attention to any signs that he may be uncomfortable.
He nods, and it brushes his lips against mine, just slightly, but enough to drive me a little insane. I close the gap entirely and sigh as soon as we're connected, a shudder sliding deliciously down my spine. My fingers knot in the hair at the nape of my neck and he pulls my closer with an arm around my waist until I'm straddling him.
There's no frenzy here, no pornographic grinding or desperate touches. I rest my behind on his thighs and our arms wrap around each other, re-acquainting after our absence. Although it has only been three days since we'd seen each other last in the literal sense, with all the insanity and scariness of recent times, we hadn't interacted in this way at all.
His tongue brushes mine and I sigh again, relief coursing thick through my veins when no panic emerges. My entire body seems to be warming and relaxing with his touch, and although it's different to the bubble that I used to crave so desperately, it's even more satisfying.
When he pulls away, I lean forward, keeping us connected for one last moment. He smirks at me when we finally separate.
"It's different now," he muses, and I'm surprised but not that he noticed what I did. Things are different. No less intense, but still... different.
"Yeah, they are."
"It's good though, right?"
"Yeah."
He smiles and leans into me, pressing another kiss on my mouth, as if to double check that what he's just said is true. I accept his embrace happily. When he removes his mouth from mine, he leaves our foreheads touching, and has to push my hair back to allow some light in.
"We're going to be ok, aren't we?"
Despite the phrasing, there's a confidence in his question. He knows the answer even as he asks it.
"We're going to be fine."
I try to fight back a cheeky smile as I reuse his favorite word from our time away. He's holding back one of his own.
"When I used to tell you that, you'd always get so grumpy with me. Oh, how the tables have turned."
I laugh a little, then realise that we're talking about our... abduction... and laughing.
No fear, no panic, no anger or violence or any of the scary stuff that I'd become so used to.
My smile grows even bigger.
"It's different now."
"Why, because it's you saying it this time?" he teases.
"No," I bristle playfully and then my expression turns serious. "It's different because this time, it's true."
He smiles, but persists with his teasing.
"Confident, are we?"
I nod, our foreheads brushing together, and then press my lips back to his. For the first time in a long time, I am confident.
AN: Oh, Bella... let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet, shall we?