A/N: HEY EVERYONE!
I'm alive! Did you miss me?
I am terribly sorry for the EXTREMELY late upload... my only reason for it is that I have been incredibly busy and unfortunately this fan fiction had to be put on hold until I had everything I needed to do sorted out. Now that I have done that, hopefully I can maintain a regular upload :)
In order to make up for the lack of an update, I have written an extra long chapter that I am sure you will all enjoy - and if you don't or if you have any comments, please let me know, I really appreciate the reviews! To those who have been reviewing: THANK YOU SO MUCH! All of your comments are very much appreciated and I will try to take all of your suggestions!
A special congrats to the person who made that very special connection with my OC's name... I take my hat of to you sir! If anyone else happened to notice... then I congratulate you too
Anyways... enjoy my next instalment
- AshTree13 xoxo
P.S this may be edited at a later point in time in order to correct any notable mistakes made...
Chapter 20:
Why?
Why was it that oppressive, suffocating silence seemed to follow me wherever I happen to go?
Did I draw it to me, like a moth is drawn to a flame? Or perhaps it was as much as part of me as the heart pumping blood inside of my chest?
I don't have a defining answer, one that will make it all clear; I only know that it always seems to be present, hovering just out of reach until the moment it is called forth from the depths of the shadows from which it came. I do know that it was hardly enjoyable…
I remember it being unbearable.
Unbearable in the way it clenched at your heart, feeling like it was a stone sitting in the pit of your stomach, nothing more than dead weight. Insufferable, with the way it left an almost bitter taste in your mouth and no matter how much water you guzzled down your seemingly permanently parched throat, it would never entirely disappear… it was as if your tastebuds remembered the flavour of disappoint… of solitude… of misery. Intolerable because it was like a storm cloud on the horizon; dark, ominous with the undeniable promise of future despair and chaos, the knowledge that it was coming for you whether you wished it too or not - completely aware that once the tension and the anguish and the anxiety had set in, it was an almost a guarantee.
I have wanted it to avoid it since that day, because once was enough but things like this, well, they seem to be inevitable… when it comes to me, that is.
And I can't bear it.
Not anymore.
0-0-0-0-0-0
Had it always been this quiet? Had it always been so constricting?
It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, creating a vast vacuum in which the silence stretched for miles, causing the discontent settled in the pit of his stomach to once again fester and flourish, bringing with it a heaviness to the already stale atmosphere that would not be easily lifted. The shadows from the darkest corners of the usually vibrant Kingston streets appeared to grow in intensity, looming forth as if ready to consume him whole, drown him in the guilt and the failure of his actions. The frustration, the disappointment… the loss… it continually circled the forefront of his consciousness - a vulture awaiting to devour its prey.
And the question remained; how?
How the Hell had the Sage once again slipped through his fingers, despite the careful planning and the waiting and the passion that had been thrust towards that singular goal? The plan had been fucking foolproof - at least, it had appeared that way to him during the careful process of distinguishing a direct and correct course of action - yet somehow the artfully constructed plan had gone from being absolutely flawless to fucking pathetic in a matter of seconds; fragmented, adrift on the nonexistent wind.
Had all that planning and bidding for time… all that patience and all that work, been for naught?
And he called himself a pirate?
Fucking pathetic.
"Edward?"
The soft, melodic voice called out to him from the omnipresent gloom and immediately his steel-blue eyes sought out the petite redhead, lingering at somewhat of a distance but nonetheless at his side. Her heart-shaped face was flushed from their daring escape and more than a little worse for wear; her normally unblemished skin was marred with dirt and what, to his carefully trained eyesight, was evidently dried and crusting blood - her own… he wasn't sure but the harrowing sight made that guilt and that pain and that failure somehow more real and that tension that had been slowly bleeding out of him as he studied her battered beauty began to build back up. He hated that he was the cause of her panic, her distress, that it was he who had caused her to be put into a situation which was less than ideal; sure she was moderately trained in using those goddamn knives she now insisted upon carrying with her and he had taught her to shoot and reload a pistol in under a minute (she was actually making impressive time with the reload, knocking up 32 seconds… impressive for someone who still held the minor weapon as if it could go off at any moment,) yet that didn't excuse the fact that she had been incredibly vulnerable, no matter how much she protested that fact.
This is why I choose to operate alone, Edward thought venomously, averting his eyes when his heart clenched painfully at the sight of her widening emerald-blue eyes, the compelling depths swirling with a mix of worry and indecisiveness - although he had no clue what she could possibly be indecisive about… however, it had become an increasingly common expression for her whenever they were in the same vicinity, particularly when they were in exclusively each others company - giving her the appearance of a startled fawn.
Nonetheless, he reached out for her notably tiny hand, encasing the warm flesh in a reassuring grip before gently squeezing those slender, delicate fingers; an embrace she immediately returned.
"We're okay, aren't we?" Tess enquired, biting her lip before proceeding to chew at the inside of her cheek; a nervous habit of hers which he found strangely enchanting but nevertheless reminded him, painfully, that he was the cause of her possibly overwhelming anxiety.
He understood her need for reassurance - Theresa North was a strong woman; she was brave in spite of the many fears that beat her down and pressured her on what felt like a daily basis and no matter the challenge, she would step up with little argument or complaint.
She was one of his most trusted allies… and he had not spoken two words to her since the ordeal at Prins' Manor.
In his defence, he had been considering his next course of action - they could hardly remain in Kingston after the disastrous assassination and foiled capture of the legendary Sage, as it was likely that word was spreading faster than wildfire, of three rogue pirates/assassins taking out half of the guards at the compound before finally doing away with richest slaver in the Caribbean… who knew when the guardsmen defending the regal Manor of the English colony and the common British Soldiers strolling the worn streets - who were always up for a fight, no matter the cause nor the target in question - would find them and thus take them in for questioning before a swift execution on the grounds of piracy and willful murder. However, his excessive wallowing in his despair and failure could hardly defend the lack of communication that had transpired between the two; he should have said something the moment the immediate threat had passed but upon missing the chance to do so, decided that the best course of action was to remain silent and sleuth over the limited options before them; one word of reassurance couldn't have hurt… no wonder she was clinging to his hand like it was a lifeline, no wonder she looked terrified and confused and… and lonely.
God, he was a git.
A great, massive git.
With a practicality silent sigh, Edward relinquishes his grip on Tess's hand, choosing instead to wrap his now free arm around her shoulders so to pull her close to his side, a faint smile creeping across his face upon hearing her startled cry but feeling her returned embrace when she rests her cheek just above his heart.
"Edward?"
Angling his face towards the crown of her head, he inhales her distinctive scent before carefully placing a kiss atop her fiery ringlets, curling her loose strands around his calloused digits - a habit he was confident he would never be rid of, so long as Tess stood at his side - before slowly sliding his hands from her shoulders to her waist, finally resting upon the small of her back; an action which immediately and effectively silenced any further response from the petite Assassin.
Well… any particularly verbal response.
Shyly, Tess's doe-like eyes watch him carefully, her expression even more conflicted and filled with a wider variety of emotions than before, as she gazed upon him with unabashed curiosity and intrigue… and maybe even with a little lust (ridiculous…. but possible.) The question now stood; how should he proceed? Kiss her, or pull away before either one could fall further into the depths of what may be their own personal Hell? Often, he would kiss her regardless - his newfound fledging feelings propelled him forward, pushing past any boundaries of courtesy that had existed once before them - but today he was truly unsure.
Despite this, it was hard to walk away. Her torso was pressed right up against his, heating their already overly-stimulated bodies to a point where it was getting particularly difficult to focus on anything but her plump lips and those gorgeous, bottomless pools that were her luxurious eyes. It was almost as if his body craved her touch… her embrace… her affection and overall her love… as if his body was convinced that by turning her willing body towards him, running his hands up and down her sides which elicited the sweetest of tremors and caused goosebumps to rise upon her flesh, would lighten up the sour mood that had consumed the pair of them. It did not entirely erase the pain coursing through his body at such a degree that he felt almost numbed… yet, when she tilted her head towards his, allowing for him to press his lips against hers and then conceding to the pressure of tongue pushing its' way into her mouth in an effort to deepen the kiss and perhaps erase all of the fear and worry that had built up over the past hour, he could almost believe the thought circulating his consciousness.
We're going to be okay...
0-0-0-0-0-0
This is... odd.
That was one way to accurately describe the situation unfurling before me.
Studying Edward's impassive face and noting that his eyes were slightly out-of-focus, concerned primarily with his preoccupying thoughts rather than what was occurring around him at that present moment, I wrap my hands around the tea cup - sorry, tea bowl - and bring the rim to my lips, sipping at the bitter almost greenish liquid which was apparently some form of 'tea.' Scrunching up my face the moment I manage to swallow the decidedly foul and lukewarm substance, I gently return the cup to its gilded saucer and reach for the sugar only to find that it was already at my side, the silver seashell-shaped spoon resting upon the almost sparkling white mound.
I glance up at Edward with a wry grin, "thanks."
"You looked incredibly displeased sipping your tea," he shrugs his shoulders and allows himself a small smile, "I know that some can find this particularly brew rather… strong… I figured that the sugar would help sweeten it."
"Thanks," I repeat, adding a gracious amount of the crystallized substance to the concoction, desperately wishing that I also had a small jug of hot milk to balance out the sweetness and the bitterness that still lingered when I took another sip. "The teas I usually drink aren't this strong... come to think of it, I rarely drink tea unless it's English Breakfast and even then I have to add a lot of milk..." I trail off upon noticing Edward's perplexed expression, realizing at that moment that I had started talking about things from my time, things that I doubted existed in Edward's present.
"What's English Breakfast?" He asks curiously, resting his elbow on the table and then his chin upon his open palm, his inquisitive gaze confirming my doubts.
"Um... well, it's a type of beverage that... well," I struggle to find the words.
Currently residing in the past yet hailing from the future, I had always wondered whether or not I would have some defining influence on the time period present. Surely, I would be a distant figure in the memories of those I had come to know; people like Edward and Mary and maybe even the infamous Blackbeard… I would remain, to some degree, a figure of the past upon returning to the future - to my present - so thus, the decisions I made and the choices acted upon would somehow impact the past. After all, I may not belong to this time line but I certainly exist within it. So… if I revealed too much about myself, if I ingrained my already present figure into the memories of others and changed the actions of the men arrayed me, it must surely alter what was once set in stone.
Therefore, even discussing the little things such as different types of tea, may prove to be detrimental to my own time.
"Do you drink this particular… tea, was it? where you come from, Tess?"
"Yes," I answer, relieved that Edward had formulated his own conclusion after my own explanation had dwindled into nothing, "it's a type of tea very popular in my… uh… home."
"I think I'd like to try this 'English Breakfast,'" came Edwards' soft murmur.
Spitting out my tea, I aim an incredulous look in his direction, sure that the beverage I hadn't quite consumed currently dribbled down my chin in a hilarious fashion. "Wha-?"
Frowning, my earlier panic fades away as I watch Edward break down into laughter. Pursing my lips, I return the cup to it's matching gold and green embroidered plate, folding my arms over my chest as I narrow my eyes at the offending pirate, far from impressed. "You're an ass," I inform him rather matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow as I survey my companion.
"Not my fault that you have the most hilarious expressions."
"Can I ask why we are even here?"
Edward frowns, "what do you mean? Clearly, we are relaxing under the brilliant sun with a wonderful pot of tea and a collection of slightly stale scones, enjoying the sights of the city before departing for the wondrous town of Nassau."
"Sometimes I think you enjoy hearing the sound of your own voice," I sigh which was accompanied immediately by the rolling of my eyes.
"You asked, I answered."
"But why? Why are we even relaxing when you and I both know that the entire city is on the lookout for Prins' murderers," I hiss, leaning forward so that only Edward hears my worry, "we should've left the moment we had the chance and yet, instead of doing just that - which I may add is the most logical decision we have in our arsenal - we are having tea?!"
"You could be a little more appreciative," Edward complains, running a hand through his wild locks, titling back the chair so it rests only on its' two back legs, his feet resting atop the narrow table in order to support his newly distributed weight.
"I just think we're taking unnecessary risks."
For a moment, Edwards' eyes study my face intently as if he was trying to memorize each and every feature. Under his exploratory gaze, I feel my cheeks begin to burn and I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my eyes nervously flickering from one point to another, unsure where exactly I was the direct my view.
"I know you wanted to explore the town," Edward replies before I have a chance to rebuke him for his unwavering stare, startling me.
"After everything that's happened, you still recalled that I wanted to wander around Kingston?" I ask in disbelief, my chest tightening and my body beginning to tingle with feelings of warmth and affection as the meaning of our abrupt café visit finally begins to make sense.
"You didn't have to do this, Edward," I say softly, touched that he had taken into account my petty desires.
"I wanted to."
"But you didn't have too," I reaffirm, reaching out and placing my hand over his, giving it a light squeeze in order to physically convey my happiness.
Returning the pressure, Edward pulls my hand to his lips and places a delicate kiss on the back of my palm, slowly rubbing circles into the pale flesh in a manner that invited a sense of familiarity and comfort - it was, one of many actions that I associated with Edward alone. The simple, feather-light touch caused heat to tingle throughout my entire body, electrifying each and ever nerve with sparking desire that with a notable swallow, I push down... yet I do not remove my hand from Edwards, revelling in his touch for a moment longer - however, since admitting that my feelings were more than just a fleeting whim caused by my lack of a sex life, every touch seemed to alight within me desire (not that I never felt that before) and it became harder to resist Edward's charm.
I wanted to kiss him… I wanted to touch him… and if Edward and I ended up in a similar situation to that one time, I had no doubt that I would let him do whatever the hell he wanted to do with him… and I had no doubt that I would enjoy each and every moment.
"If you'd like to explore the city… now is the time to do so," Edward informs me, getting to his feet and thus pulling my body along with him, a roguish grin pulling up the corners of his lips.
"I would like to see the architecture," I admit, my free hand reaching for the pearl around my neck only… "Where is it?"
"Hmmm?"
"My pearl," I explain, releasing Edwards hand and subsequently patting myself down in a desperate attempt to locate it on my person, disappointment crashing down upon me the moment I cannot locate it, "it's gone."
"The one you purchased in Nassau?"
"Yeah… I really liked it too," I complain, taking his outstretched hand once more and, with a soft sigh, began to walk side-by-side down the dusty Kingston street, leaning into Edwards' warmth, "it was… kind of a lucky charm for me."
"Well then…" pulling me to a halt, Edward lets go of my hand and walks behind me, his arms encircling my waist as he breathes into my ear, "I suppose I made the right choice…"
"Pardon?" I ask, failing to suppress the pleasant shiver that ran down my spine as one arm loosened around my waist, the fingers on his now free hand gently caressing the flushed skin of my neck. Moments later, I feel Edwards grip around my waist completely disappear and a cold weight suddenly presses against the skin of my throat and chest, settling just above my heart. Looking down, my eyes widen as I take in the silver locket glistening against my white skin, my fingers reaching for the delicate ornament dangling around my neck in order to allow for my entranced tracing of the raised silver flowers and expertly crafted butterfly that lay sparkling in the sunlight atop an ornate vine backdrop.
Curling my right hand fully around the charm, I turn to Edward with a perplexed expression upon my face, "what's this?"
"Do you like it?" He asks instead, reaching out and tracing the silver chain lying across my flesh, causing more shivers to erupt along my body and thus goosebumps to rise on my skin.
"It's beautiful."
"But do you like it?" he persists, studying my expression as it shifts from one of confusion to one of awe and happiness.
"Of course I do, Edward!" I exclaim, "how could I not?"
"Good," he answers with a satisfied smirk, his arms once more snaking around my waist in a intimate embrace I did not think was entirely appropriate in this day an age, considering the appraising looks we were receiving from passersby… but all that seemed to be a distant concern.
It was only Edward and I… lost in a serene little bubble.
"Why?" I enquire softly, touching his cheek with only the tips of my fingers, feeling his entire body tremble under my light touch, surprised by the overwhelming satisfaction it causes when I realise that that response was because it was me touching him.
"Just… because," he replies with a shrug of his broad shoulders, a gentle smile twisting his lips as a surprisingly soft expression makes its way across his face.
"Well… thank you," I whisper, resting my forehead against his chest as his grip around my body tightens, holding my body as close as possible to his, the heat of his body pressing into mine causing my body to tremble with barely disguised want.
My throat felt parched and every fibre of my being ached with desire.
It was… unbearable.
"No need to thank me…" he murmurs, pressing a kiss atop the crown of my head, his fingers running through my unbound hair, untangling any knots with surprising ease and pure affection.
"It's polite," I mutter, my voice muffled as I still have my face buried into Edward's solid chest, my nose inhaling his all-to-familair scent, my fingers curling into fists against his chest as I close my eyes and visibly relax against his body.
"Consider it an early birthday gift, then."
Although the remark is not particularly funny, I find myself giggling as I found the comment in all of its entirety ridiculous, my eyes looking up at him with a glimmer of mischief and amusement, "it'd be a pretty early birthday present, considering that it's not till the end of the year."
For a moment, Edward stands there silently, processing the comment I had made. Upon computing with what it was I had conveyed, his grip slackens and his widen in a mixture of horror and guilt. With a splutter, Edward asks, "Tess… when exactly is your birthday?"
"Haven't I ever told you?"
Cue Edward shaking his head: no.
"Oh? Well then... it's December 24th."
"December 24th?! That was nearly half a year ago!"
"It's just a date," I shrug my shoulders, unconcerned, "I never really celebrated my birthday in the past anyways, considering that it was so close to Christmas."
"You never thought to tell me?"
"Did it ever matter?"
"Of course it did," Edward replies incredulously, pulling away slightly, one hand grazing my forehead as if checking my temperature, "the day that you were born is incredibly important to me."
I feel my cheeks flush red from my combined embarrassment and flattery. "Then," I whisper, fidgeting in Edward's embrace as I struggle to get the words out, "um… when's your birthday, Edward?"
"…"
"Tell me," I insist a little more firmly, tugging impatiently at his sleeve.
"Must I?" Edward inquires with a groan.
"Yes! Because…" my cheeks burn darker than they were before, embarrassment consuming my entire being, "like you said… the day that you were born is… well, it's special… it is to me."
"Oh."
I don't have to look at Edward to know that he too is blushing.
"March… March 4th," he informs me, running a hand awkwardly through his hair - a nervous tick of his… an adorable nervous tick.
"That… it's already passed," I answer rather glum, disappointment causing my shoulders to hunch forward and my body to sag. I really wanted to surprise him with something too, I thought with a audible sigh which finished in a startled gasp.
Gods, I cringe, stepping out of his arms and retaking his hand, continuing our stroll through the old streets, occasionally tuning into Edward's quips and notes about the surrounding architecture and features of the city, my consciousness preoccupied with thoughts that were of a different and far more concerning nature. I must be falling hard… correction, I must've fallen hard to worry over such things as birthday surprises… I never cared for them in the past.
But no one has ever been as important to me as Edward, I realise with a start and I know it's true.
My love for Desmond Miles seemed to dull in comparison to the feelings I thought for Edward Kenway - it was almost as if Desmond had been mere infatuation or a passing crush, although at the time it felt all-consuming. I still love Desmond - I always would - and I knew that in my heart was a place reserved only for him, just as there was a place in my heart only for Shaun and another for Rebecca… small cubbies that held endless amounts of equal happiness and sadness yet… Edward from day 1 had begun to slowly consume my consciousness until it was as if he was the only one that existed there, the only one that mattered - he had carved out a whole in my heart that he would always inhabit, no matter what changed.
I love Edward Kenway, I thought to myself, glancing at the animated man out from the corner of my eye, "I love Edward Kenway…"
"Pardon?" Edward suddenly asks, turning his face towards mine, "did you need something, Tess?"
"No," I quickly answer, wishing that my cheeks would stop turning pink each and every time the guy happened to turn my way, give me a smouldering look, compliment me or fill me with an indescribable happiness.
"Okay…" he says slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion and suspicion but at my bright smile, the doubtful look fades and is replaced by one of concentration as he resumes his guided tour of Kingston - which I wasn't paying attention to in the slightest.
Releasing the breath I didn't know I was holding, I thank the gods that he didn't hear my indirect confession - I was quite confident that if he had, I would've died out of sheer mortification - and yet, at the same time I was a little… well… a little frustrated that he hadn't. The words, so foreign to me, had just been so natural atop my tongue, so easy to say and it was that ease which frightened me more than I could admit.
Love is a powerful emotion… and it terrified me.
"Do you ever think about going home?" Edward suddenly inquires, forcing me so unexpectedly from my thoughts that i stumble over my own feet and the only reason I don't fall flat on my face is because Edward is there to steady me, a half amused, half concerned look on his handsome face.
"Where did this come from?" I say rather loudly, my voice boarding on a shriek.
He shrugs, releasing his iron grip from my elbow that moment he is sure that I am able to balance on my own, "curiosity."
"Seriously?"
"I had… it's just that… it's been nearly three years since we met," Edward says softly, his eyes out of focus as the memory of that fateful day takes over his thoughts, "and from that moment you realised you were stranded… the moment you realised you weren't anywhere close to home, that had been your goal - return home as quickly as possible. All this time has passed by and yet, you're still here… I was wondering why."
"You'd be lost without me," I tease, attempting to cover my discomfort with jokes but of course, he saw right through it.
"I have put you through Hell, Tess."
"It hasn't been that bad…"
"Hasn't it?" Edward demands, a severe frown ruining his usually relaxed, confident demeanour. "I can't count the number of times you and I have been in a situation where one of us - or both of us - has nearly died… we've been dragged through Assassin Order shit, been attacked by Templars and Assassin's alike, faced deadly storms on the high seas… I've been fucking shot! And, because of me, you were forced to murder someone and that… that nearly destroyed you… and it nearly destroyed me."
"Edward," I whisper, reaching out to touch his face. My fingers remain pressed to his cheek for a couple of seconds before he impatiently pushes the slender digits aside, his face a mask of anguish - he was beginning to worry me.
"At first, yeah," I begin to tell him, trying to not let the worry over Edward's headspace or the hurt from being pushed away, distract me from explaining my side of the story, "it was hard… it was so difficult adjusting to this new lifestyle. All I could think about was home, trying to find a way back to my family and my friends, back to the way of life that was so familiar and so natural and you… I just couldn't understand how you lived, what exactly went on in that head of yours. But, I began to adjust and the days didn't seem to be as difficult, as long, as they had been at first. I began to enjoy experiencing everything you had to offer… I began to enjoy just being with you."
"Tess-"
"You have put me through Hell," I agree, cutting him off before he could say anymore, "but each and every moment has been worth it."
"And… do you still want to go home?"
That was a good question. Did I want to go back to my time? Did I want to return to my old way of life? Did I want to leave Edward?
It was without question that I missed Shaun and Rebecca and the familiarity desperately but, like I had told Edward, my life here hadn't been nearly as bad as I thought it would be - in fact, it had been better. I wasn't lying when I told him that I had begun to enjoy just being by his side… I loved the guy, after all… that kind of implied that I was content with the way my life had turned out so far.
Was it hard? Yes.
Did that mean I want to go back?
"No," I whisper.
"No?"
"No, I don't want to go home," I say a little louder, lifting my chin and facing him head on, my expression determined, "I don't want to go home."
Grabbing my wrist, Edward pulls me into the shadow of the church, hiding us from the gazes of curious passerby's and turns me so it's my back pressed up against the great stone walls, still emitting heat despite the fact that the sun had progressed from that particular position in the sky ages ago. Pressing my body as close as physically possible to the church, Edward relinquishes the tight grip he has on my wrist in favour of placing that same hand on my hip, angling my body so it is perfectly aligned with his and close enough that it forces us to press against one another, the back of my skull resting against the wall as I gaze up at his shadowed face. His grey-blue eyes - those eyes I had come to know and adore - stared intensely into my face, the fire that I loved flaring to life once again, erasing any lingering worries I had over him, asking for permission.
So I gave it to him.
I can easily recall the first time Edward kissed me; it had been sudden and swift and had come to as abrupt of an end as it had begun and I can still remember the taste of his lips, the scent of his natural musk, the way his tongue entwined with mine as the kiss deepened and the way I felt so shaken by the suddenness yet so exhilarated. I can remember the guilt that had accompanied it, the feeling that I had betrayed the person I loved and the wrongness of the entire situation.
How could I ever have thought that it was so wrong to kiss this man.
Unlike that kiss on the beach, I threw myself into it with as much passion and affection as I could muster; my arms wrapped around his shoulders, my fingers twisting into the longer strands of his soft blonde hair - hair that I had ran my fingers through time and time again, this time relishing the silkiness of it all - and the moment his tongue pressed impatiently against my slowly swelling lips, I opened my mouth and allowed my tongue to twine with his in the very definition of a 'french kiss.'
But, just like that kiss on the beach, it comes to a quick end.
Reluctantly, we pull apart, desperately trying to inhale what air we could after that overwhelmingly breathless kiss. I never thought I would be so grateful for a wall; it supported, along with Edward's gentle but sure grip, the majority of my bodyweight, since my knees felt like jelly and I was sure to collapse the moment Edward let go… not that it appeared he would do so.
Pressing his lips against my forehead and the top of my head, Edward rests his chin atop the crown of my skull and releases an almost blissful sigh. "Wow," he murmurs, running his fingers slowly up and down my spine, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips.
"Mhmm."
"You've improved."
"I can't say you have," I tease lightly which quickly transforms into a breathless bout of giggles, accompanied by slight hysteria as Edward ferociously tickles my sensitive sides - it does nothing to dull that ache for him, however.
"Want to say that again?" he demands, twirling my body so my back presses against his chest as he continues to stroke my sides in a way that makes me convulse as gasp for air.
"N-no!" I squeal, trying to escape his grip yet I remain in his cage-like embrace; he had always been just a little too strong for me.
"Tess," he breathes, his warm breath tickling the shell of my ear and the back of my neck; an action which makes my entire body tremble in pleasure… it had been doing a lot of that lately when Edward was concerned.
"Mmmm," I moan, pressing my back up against his body and leaning into his featherlight caresses.
"Tess…"
"… Yes?"
Pressing a kiss to my shoulder and then to the side of my neck, I can barely hear Edward over the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood to my head, drowning in the pleasure he was inflicting upon me - it made me wonder if I was like just with him touching me and kissing me, what would I be like when we… well, when we ended up in that situation?
"What do you want to do now?" he whispers, tilting my head back towards his so his lips can press gently against my own, "what do you want?"
Summoning what little courage I had left, I force the words out of my mouth.
"I… I want…"
"Yes?" Edward persists, stroking the silver chain that glitters proudly around my neck.
Deep breath: in… out.
"You."