A/N: I think it was 53 yays and 3 nays, so here he is.
Hoodwinked
Chapter 25
Shithead
"Did you lose consciousness?" The ambo asks, leaning before me and flashing a penlight in my eyes.
"No," I reply irritated. I did, though, lose consciousness. For how long, I'm not sure. I came to to the cunts laying into me.
Fucking pricks.
I'm sitting on the set of steps that lead to the entrance of the Shangri-La with Bella beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. She's already worried about me, and I don't want to freak her out more, but I really do feel like shit. My head aches, I feel dazed, it hurts to fucking breathe, and my hand is killing me. I think I might have broken it. I don't know. I'm trying to remember a time where I've felt worse; nothing comes to mind, though.
"Edward, I'm concerned you have a concussion," the paramedic seems to conclude. It's the second time he's said that now, and for the last five minutes, he's been attempting to convince me to go to hospital. It's not going to happen. I've already fucked Bella's night, and I don't have a spare four hundred bucks to blow on an ambulance I don't need.
Yeah, some bright spark called them, as well as the cops. They're getting hold of the security cameras, so Newton's fucked.
Turning my head, I glance over my shoulder at him. He's on the other side of the road spewing his guts up into a puke bag. I smirk to myself, but I kind of feel like joining him if I'm being honest.
"Come in the back for a moment, mate, and I'll take your blood pressure," the ambo urges me, holding out his hand.
"I'm fine—for fuck's sake!" I burst, becoming impatient. I just want to get home and drink this fucking headache away.
"Edward, please just do it!" Bella insists. She's growing steadily pissed off, but I prefer it to her bawling over me. There's nothing more pitiful than her big brown eyes welling with tears. It makes her look like that dorky little kid she once was – always crying because I was constantly teasing her.
I tried to keep this shit away from her, but I was pretty naïve to think the bastards wouldn't try something tonight.
"No," I say simply, shrugging a shoulder like an asshole, and she huffs and scowls to herself. She's pretty cute when she tries to get all forceful with me, and I have to fight off the smirk. Right now, I think she might belt me one; her emotions are pretty frayed. "I'm fine, you pain in the neck," I say for added measure, but she's not convinced.
"Fine?" she echoes like I'm out of my mind, her voice breaking. If she cries again, I'm going to fucking lose it.
"I just want to check it," the ambo assures me. "It doesn't mean I'm going to transport you to hospital."
"Righto—Jesus..." I cave, and grabbing the handrail, I sluggishly pull myself to my feet. That's when the ground fucking slants, and I almost nosedive back into the concrete. The paramedic immediately grabs hold of me; so does Bella. "I'm going to..." I throw up before I can get the words out. All over Bella's feet.
She shrieks and lurches back away from me impulsively, and then of course, she bursts into tears.
"Sorry, Bella," I utter, pretty pathetically as I attempt to hold in the next round. Jesus, this is worse than being drunk.
The paramedic drags my semi-conscious arse to the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. I think I black out for a moment, and when I come to again, Bella's back beside me. She's removed her shoes and her feet are wet; she looks like she wants to slap me and hug me simultaneously. I'm actually surprised she didn't chuck a fit altogether; I guess I'm still underestimating her. It's hard to believe the royal pain in the fucking neck actually admitted to being in love with me.
I mean, I had my suspicions, but it still shocked the hell out of me. I really thought she'd take it to her grave.
I have to say it back. I'm just not sure if I can.
"Eighty over sixty," the paramedic mumbles to himself as he pulls the Velcro strap from my arm.
Bella gasps.
"Would you stop over-fucking-reacting!?" I snap, closing my eyes. My head's pounding and the fucking ambulance is starting to spin.
"Stop trying to be brave, you bloody idiot!" she blurts back, her fingers running through my hair. "Christ, Edward..."
"I'm okay..." I utter, struggling to take an even breath and bring myself down. "Just give me a Panadol or something..."
"I want you to stay put for a moment until your blood pressure rises," the paramedic instructs me, and I open my eyes to the sound of plastic being torn open. He pulls a bandage from its packaging and starts to bind my right hand. "Move your fingers for me." I do; they're stiff and they ache like a motherfucker, but they seem to work alright. "I don't think it's broken," he assures me. "More than likely sprained."
"I'll live," I say, draping my left arm over my eyes. "Fuck, my head..."
"Can you tell me your name?" a second ambo asks.
"Edward Cullen," I mumble.
"Date of birth?"
"June 20th 1999—I'm not telling you my address," I pre-empt him, because all I need now is the old man to find out.
"His pupils are dilated," Ambo One informs him.
I groan half beneath my breath, but don't say anything. My stomach feels like shit and Bella will never let me forget throwing up over her once, let alone twice.
"You going to tell me what happened?" her voice invades my aching head in a whisper.
I shake it clumsily back and forth. "Later..." She sighs, sounding close to tears again. "Oi?" I half open my eyes and squint up at her. "No more crying—'kay?"
She cracks a small smile and nods, even as tears fall down her cheeks.
"Jesus, you're a pain in the neck," I complain, reaching out to wipe them dry with my bandaged hand. "Ow!"
"Just rest for a moment—you're scaring the crap out of me!" she exclaims in that screechy voice of hers, but I get it. I've freaked her out.
I expel my breath heavily and close my eyes again. I feel so fucked I really don't have a choice, and for the next several minutes she soothes my throbbing head by running her fingers over my forehead. I'm practically half asleep when a rough-sounding voice invades it.
"My name's Constable Black, are you able to take a statement?"
I open my eyes again and frown. "Yeah..."
"You're Edward Cullen, is that right?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me what happened, Edward?" He opens his notepad and brings his pen to it, eyeing me as he does.
I clear my throat awkwardly and reluctantly begin. "I was coming back from the bathroom and the bastards surrounded me. One of them decked me from behind. I don't really remember much after that. I kinda came to when security were dragging us out. Emmett and my sister's boyfriend were there, as well. I don't remember when they got there. I heard someone told them what was going on, but I dunno who."
"What happened outside on the street, after?"
"I gave that piece of shit a huge dose of payback, that's what happened." My voice automatically restricts, and Bella huffs as if she's exasperated; the constable almost seems to smirk, though.
"Who would that be?" he asks.
"Mike Newton."
"Was he one of the people you mentioned who surrounded you inside the building?"
"Yeah, him and his brother and two other guys I don't really know."
"Who would his brother be?"
"Jason."
"Jason Newton?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Thank you, Edward." He flips his notebook closed and flashes me a quick grin.
"Is that all?" It seemed too easy.
"That's all."
"You gonna charge me?"
"Considering there are several witnesses who've backed up your statement that you weren't the instigator, no."
"Thank fuck..." I murmur, closing my eyes again, and beside me Bella huffs again. "Stop bitching," I head her off, smiling slightly to myself regardless of how crap I feel.
"You're driving me mental," she grumbles.
"I know, but you love anyway."
She scoffs. "No more snotface, spewfest."
"Didn't we already go over that?" I remind her, and she prods my shoulder too gently, like I'm a cripple.
"Shut up. I'm bloody stressed out." She runs her hand over her forehead and breaks my gaze.
"Geez, I'm alright," I insist, rolling my eyes because she's seriously over dramatizing it.
"No, you're not," she counters, her voice getting all choked again, and I groan loudly this time.
"Bella—stop it."
"Okay, Edward," the first ambo comes into my line of sight again, "you're showing signs of a concussion. You really do need an MRI done."
"Tomorrow." I jerk a shoulder, and attempt to sit back up, but my fucking ribs all but spasm and he forces me back against the gurney.
"Do you have a way of getting home?" he asks.
"Yeah. What time's the limo getting here?" I turn and ask Bella; she's pouting.
"Half an hour," she says in a wavering voice.
"Half an hour," I repeat for the ambo's benefit.
He nods but it's obvious he's not happy about it. "Okay." He checks and rechecks my blood pressure, and when it gets to one hundred over ninety, he lets me go.
My legs are like jelly, and I'm so fucking light-headed I need to rely on Bella more than I'm happy with. Thank Christ, Emmett and Jas come to rescue her. Jas looks pretty banged up, though.
"What happened to you?" I ask him as they drag me across Harrington Street toward the parked limo.
"It was still three against four," he explains away his swollen top lip.
"Hey, thanks, mate—fucking cunts..." I mutter.
"No worries," he replies. "Newton's gone though. Something tells me tomorrow's off." He snickers as I all but bloody groan to myself, and just as expected, Bella jumps all over it
"Tomorrow?" she repeats.
"It's nothing," I say, but she only flashes me that expression she gets when she knows I'm bullshitting.
"It was 'sposed to take place tomorrow," Emmett fills her in.
"What was?" She turns her wide eyes back to me. "Were you planning on fighting him?"
"It was Newton's idea—he set it up," I say in my defence because she's back to looking pissed off.
"It was all bullshit," Jas adds. "A cover to get to Edward early."
"Edward..." Her voice gets all weepy again.
"Snotface..." I complain. "I'll tell you everything tonight—I promise."
She bites on her bottom lip and nods to herself, and the pain in the neck is gonna cry again. "All right."
"Where's midget?" I ask, forcing my gaze from her. Rose is MIA, as well.
"Sorting your ex out," Emmet says snickering.
"What did that bitch do?" I suddenly demand as my head snaps back to Bella, but apart from looking all over-emotional there isn't a scratch on her.
"She started shit with Rose," Emmett answers, reaching out to open the back door before the chauffeur can get out of the front.
"She wanted to start shit with me," Bella corrects him behind a heavy breath. "Rose was just sticking up for me." She frowns and there's something culpable on her face.
She's such a pain in the fucking neck she's probably blaming herself for everything. The reality is, though, I'm the one she should be blaming. I started this whole bullshit tonight.
"We've got it, mate," Jas informs the limo-drover as he and Emmett help me into the backseat.
I slump along the side-facing seating, yanking on my tie; I suddenly feel like it's choking me. Bella moves beside me and helps me out of my jacket. I wince pathetically and try not to make it obvious how much pain I'm in. I'm not sure I'm fooling her, though.
"The paramedic gave me this." She holds up a puke bag in emphasis, and I groan.
"I'll be fine. I feel a shit ton better," I outright lie, and yeah, she's not buying a word of it.
"Come here," she whispers, and leaning closer to me she unties my tie and unbuttons the collar of my shirt. "Lay down."
I was planning to anyway, and stretching out along the seat, I rest my head in her lap.
She bends over me, and I'm suddenly engulfed by the scent of her perfume. Earlier tonight it was fucking hot, but right now it's beginning to churn my stomach. It doesn't last long, though; she plants her lips to my forehead and sit's back up.
Closing my eyes, I moan pitifully and reach out to grab her hand. "Bella..."
"You okay?" she asks softly.
"Distract me."
She grazes her fingers over my brow and down the sides of my face, and it's blessedly fucking distracting. "No falling asleep," she tells me.
"I'm not..." I mumble. I am.
"You have to keep talking." Her hand pauses.
"You want me to puke? —don't stop."
Her hands move to my hair this time, her fingertips running slowly over my scalp. "I'd rather you puke than fall into a coma."
I sigh dryly because she's such a bloody drama queen. "I'm not going to fall into a coma."
"Don't be an asshole!" she snaps, but I can hear it in her voice; she's more worried about me than she is pissed off.
The door of the limo opens again and I feel the motion of Rose and Alice climbing inside, along with their loud fucking chatter. Alice's tone of voice is always on a high fucking octave, and right now it feels like it's being drilled through my skull.
"Alice—shut the fuck up!" I moan, as I attempt to shut her out, and pressing my head against her lower stomach, Bella covers my other ear with her hand. "Thanks, booger," I murmur.
"Welcome, spewfest," she leans down and teases me.
"Stop that," I reply, even as my lips twitch in response.
I hear her soft laughter; it washes over my face all warm and heated, and I'm suddenly reminded of what her mouth tasted like tonight; cheesecake and Fanta. I moan again faintly for a whole ton of reasons; primarily because I know I'm not going to get that dress off her any time soon. Not unless I make a miraculous recovery.
How I survive the trip home without puking is anyone's guess. The motion of the car was torture, and getting out of the city was the worst of it. Stop, start, stop start, every two fucking seconds. Once we hit the M5 it eased up, though. Bella lulled me to sleep, but my churning stomach woke me enough times to reassure her that I wasn't in a coma.
By the time we arrive home, I'm not sure I can physically walk. I really want to crawl, fucking pitifully. Jas and Emmett help drag my decrepit ass out, but instead of taking me to my house, they take me to Bella's.
"Bella... I don't want your old man to see me like this," I put up somewhat of an offensive. He already hates me, and I really don't want to give him any more ammunition against me by puking all over his floor.
"He's gone to work," she reassures me, and thank fucking Christ for that.
Her mother opens the front door and from the expression on her face she was expecting us. "Oh, you poor darling." She places her palm to my cheek as I pass.
"Hey, Mrs Swan," I speak in a slur like I'm drunk, one arm wrapped around my stomach. With every breath I take, my ribs burn. Despite what the ambo said, I'm not convinced I haven't broken a couple.
"First door on the right down the hall, hon," she directs Emmett and Jas to Bella's room.
They drop me face first on her bed; it smells like her, and I close my eyes for a moment and lose myself in time. I used to have sleep-overs with her and midget in this room. Until her old man figured out I had a hard-on for his daughter, anyway. It's always smelled the same, even when she was a goofy little kid with front teeth so wide you could fit a fifty-cent piece coin between them.
"Seeya, Mate," Emmett choruses, followed quickly by Jas.
I only half grunt out a reply, and turning my head I gaze around Bella's room.
Unlike midget there's no posters of One-fucking-Direction, or other wanker boy-bands on her wall. Bella has Final Fantasy on hers. She lusts after spam; gotta love her for that. I don't have to compete with real people.
"Remember when we used to play Kingdom Hearts together, snotface...?" I mumble into her pillow.
"Who do you think introduced me to Cloud...?" she speaks softly against my ear, her fingers running slowly up and down my back. "My mother's going to run you a bath."
"Oh, fuck... I'm not going to smell like you did this arvo, am I?"
She laughs again before I feel her lips press to the back of my neck. "Not quite."
Her mother enters her room a minute later and sits beside me on the bed. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
"Not bad," I bullshit, closing my eyes again to the feel of fingers wiping my hair off my forehead. I want to believe it's Bella but I'm too much of a pussy to find out. Her mother has a pair of "come fuck me" eyes that scares the crap out me.
"Okay, I want you to take these for me." She places what sounds like a glass on Bella's bedside, and what she's referring to I'm not sure. Knowing her mother, though, I wouldn't be surprised if it's LSD.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Her voice is beginning to sound how her eyes usually look and almost instinctively I reach for Bella; despite my eyes remaining clamped shut.
"Booger, don't leave me alone with her," I plead with her when her mother leaves the room again.
She breaks into a full grin and almost laughs at me. "Why not?"
"I'm not convinced she won't drug me and take advantage of me." I'm serious. Deadly, but Bella thinks it's hilarious.
"They're herbal, but believe me, they're really good," she explains, picking up the two tablets her mother left and holding them out to me. "I took them when I had my appendix out last year and I didn't feel a thing."
Awkwardly, and in world of pain I really don't want her to be a part of, I roll myself to my back and attempt to sit up. I fail miserably and I'm forced to let her help me.
"You really should have gone to the ER," she says with a sigh, her forehead knotting up like she might cry again.
"If you promise not to bawl over me again tonight, I will tomorrow. Deal?" I bargain, holding out my hand reluctantly to take her mother's drugs.
She places the tablets in my palm and continues to pout. "Fine..." she says begrudgingly like the pain in the neck she is.
I eye them sceptically for a moment. They're green and smell sketchy. "So, who's your old lady's drug dealer? I might know him."
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me; she does that a lot. My mother used to, as well; in that tender, motherly kind of way. Not long before she died, Mum told me she wanted me marry Bella when I was older. I think she realised what I felt about her, but she always had a soft spot for snotface. I sometimes thought she loved her more than midget.
"She buys them in the health food shop at the mall," Bella insists.
"Okay, okay," I cave, and wrapping my banged-up arm around my ribs I throw back the tablets and down them with the water her mother had left.
I come very close to puking them back up, but I don't. It doesn't stop Bella from shoving the weird plastic spew bag over my face and almost suffocating me, though.
"Bella—Christ," I push it away and drag her to the bed beside me even as I groan loudly with as much fucking misery as frustration. "I'm not going to puke over you again, and no giving me shit over it, either."
She breaks into completely smartass grin. "Not so funny when the shoe's on the other foot, is it?"
"I got the crap beat out of me tonight—you really gonna torture me more?"
"You gave as much as you got, I suspect." She smiles all warm and toothy. I like the way she smiles at me. It's not shy at all, and her eyes light up with it. "Apparently you broke Mike's nose."
I scoff, even though it almost kills me. "Good, that piece of shit..." I mutter.
"Bath's ready, sweetheart," her mother pokes her head back in the room and announces.
"She's not going to undress me, is she?" I whisper to Bella as she helps me off the bed.
She laughs again, through her nose as if she's attempting to smother it, and kneels down before me to remove my Converse and socks. "You're a dag."
I walk like a cripple down the hall, even as Bella clutches my arm with both of hers, and the moment we're in the bathroom, I reach out and hastily lock the door.
"Christ, what's in it?" I ask, gazing down at the bath water. It's a weird colour and the smell coming off it is stomach churning.
"Epsom salts and oils—I'm really not sure what else." She chuckles and begins to unbutton my shirt while I yank the bandage from my hand.
"You getting in with me?" I arch a brow, and she rolls her eyes again.
"Can you get your mind out of the gutter for one minute?"
"No harm in asking," I reply, as she parts my open shirt.
That's when her hands suddenly freeze and her breath draws sharply. "Edward—Jesus..." she utters, shock flooding her voice this time even as it practically fails.
"What?" I mumble as my gaze follows hers. There's a huge purple bruise on the right side of my rib cage, and I suddenly understand why it's been near impossible to take a full breath. "Yeah, they laid into me when I was out," I explain, placing my palm almost instinctively over it.
"Fucking assholes..." she whispers, her tone flaring with anger, but she's about to lose it again.
"No crying!" I quickly remind her, but she does anyway. "Jesus, Bella..." I complain, pulling her against me.
"I'm sorry..." she sobs, wrapping her arms around me as if I might break. I really don't fucking like it.
"What the hell are you apologising for?" I sigh, dropping my face to her hair.
She shakes her head and attempts to pull herself together, but she doesn't say anything. There's really nothing she can say, though. I should have been anticipating this happening, tonight. I let my guard down. I let her too damn beautiful bloody face distract me.
"Okay, stop slobbering all over me, you dork," I say lightly, inching her back from me.
She half laughs and awkwardly dries her face, and it suddenly occurs to me that she's taken off her dress. I didn't even notice. She's wearing a white singlet and pair of cotton, Marge Simpson boxer shorts. I smirk to myself, bringing it to her attention.
"Shut up."
"You're a drama queen." I clamp her nose only because I know it annoys her, and it brings the smile fully back to her lips.
"Will you stop doing that? —here." Reaching up, she carefully slides the shirt from my back and down my arms, and I'm grateful she's helping me because I'm not sure I could manage it on my own. "Okay, sit down on the edge," she instructs me, and when I do, she turns her back on me and runs the hot water in the sink.
I can smell the fumes of the antiseptic in the steam and I groan only partially beneath my breath. This shit is going to sting.
"All right, no being a baby," she forewarns me after turning back; a bottle of the stuff in one hand and a ball of cotton wool in the other.
"Easy..." I beg her, angling my head away from her the closer she comes until I almost fall into the bath.
"Where are you going?" She huffs, placing her hand to my jaw to hold me in place.
Resigned to what's about to happen, I squeeze my eyes shut and tense. She places the cotton to my eyebrow and I practically jump ten feet in the air, crippling myself in the process. "Mother—FUCK!" I burst impulsively. "Ow-ow-OW! Bella, shit, fuck—OUCH!"
"It's done," she says, with a tone that lets me know she thinks I'm pathetic.
"Jesus!" I blurt.
"It's not too deep," she observes, nudging my skin up carefully with her thumb.
"Yeah, the ambo said as much," I reply, grabbing her wrist and moving her hand away from me. "No more of that shit."
"You're a sook!" she fires off at me, but it's not without sympathy. "You've grazed your cheek bone," she points out, attempting to bring the cotton ball to my face again, but I hold her off.
"No!" I put my foot down, and she sighs, completely over-exaggerating it.
"Fine—you're such a baby."
"I'm not going to get gangrene and fucking die, you pain in the neck!"
She shakes her head again, all motherly, and it fucks with me in more ways than one.
"Gonna help me?" I change the subject, tilting my head to my belt.
She immediately arches a cynical-looking brow even as a smile edges on her lips. "Okay..." she murmurs, and after unbuckling my belt and pulling it through the loops of my pants, she unbuttons them.
I shuffle out of them awkwardly, leaning on her for support, and without hesitation she yanks down my underwear. I don't think she looks, and it's probably a good thing she doesn't. Even with a concussion my dick's remaining on high alert; semi-erect and to the left.
She sighs the way she usually does around me—like she thinks I'm a Neanderthal. It makes me think she did catch sight of me, and grinning to myself I let her help me into the bath.
I have to admit, though, the water is hot and really soothing, and I sink beneath it with a low groan vibrating from my chest. "Holy shit..."
"Nice, isn't it?" she acknowledges.
"Hmm." I close my eyes and let my head roll to the side. The bath is huge; a corner spa big enough to fit almost all of me. Big enough to fit the both of us.
Bella sits behind me on the edge, her legs on either side of me in the water, and bending forward she submerges a flannel and wipes it across my forehead. "So... Thursday after dinner..." she begins, and it's not hard to guess where she's going. "Did that have anything to do with tonight?"
"Yeah," I admit with a sigh, reaching behind me and clamping my hands over her knees. "Emmett heard they were planning on jumping me Friday night at Rose's party. He told Jas to let me know."
"Oh, shit..." she whispers as if it's some kind of revelation.
"What?"
"Yesterday at the mall, Alice and I ran into Jessica in Target. She asked me if we were going partying, and when I said we weren't she looked really disappointed. I thought she just wanted to crack onto you, or something."
I scoff, and releasing my battered hand, I wrap it across my ribs. "She probably wanted to do that, as well."
She nudges my shoulder. "Why couldn't you just tell me?"
"I didn't want to worry you. Besides, I'm glad we never went—even though Emmett and Jas promised to help me beat the shit out of them. We had more fun last night, didn't we?" I angle my head to glance back at her, and she smiles to herself, her face flushing with it.
"Best night of my life," she admits in a whisper.
"Aw, snotface, I knew you loved me." Grabbing her hand, I bring it to my lips. "Sorry I fucked up tonight for you."
"You didn't," she assures me, squeezing water from the flannel over my head. I watch it, tainted with my blood, run down my chest and into the bath. "So earlier tonight, when you left with Jas and Emmett. Were you making some agreement to fight with Mike Newton?"
"Yeah. His asshole brother came and got Emmett. It was all a set up. I don't think he ever planned on fighting me on his own. I should have known, but I didn't think they'd pull that shit tonight."
"I wish I went with you..." she mumbles expelling her breath with some kind of regret; as if she could have prevented it.
"What would you have done? Fight them off?" I tease her.
"Alert someone before you ended up like this."
"I'm fine, you dork," I promise her. "It was always going to happen. Ever since fucking Lauren they've been planning on getting back at me."
"What happened to the other three guys?" she asks in a small voice.
"Emmett beat the crap out of Jason—Newton's brother—and he helped Jas finish the other two. That limp dick tried to bolt the second we got outside. Fucking coward." I'm not sure who stopped him—Emmett probably. My recollection cut back in as I was smashing my fist into his face several times over.
"That doesn't surprise me. You scared me, Edward..." Her voice softly breaks again, but she attempts to conceal it from me this time.
"I told you—I'm alright," I repeat myself, reaching up and squeezing her bare leg. "You gonna get in with me, or what?" Someone has to lighten the mood; despite the fact that my head's beginning to feel floaty.
"Are you serious?" she puts to me like she thinks I'm crazy. "Edward, you have a concussion."
I roll my eyes. "Do I look like I do?" I turn to peer at her over my shoulder. "How are my pupils?" I imitate the paramedic from earlier tonight
She scrutinises me closely for a moment and huffs as if she's disappointed. "They're okay..."
"Not dilated?"
"Not anymore, but they were. Your eyes looked completely black."
I turn back and focus on my swollen hand; opening and closing it carefully. The pain's almost completely subsided. "I feel pretty good, actually. Did your old lady slip me acid?" I laugh lightly. I feel more than good; I feel almost high.
"I told you it was good stuff. Jesus, Edward, you have a lump the size of a golf ball on your head..."
"Yeah?" I say, and taking my hand she places it gently over the tender spot a couple of inches above my right ear. The moment my fingers make contact with it, I flinch and suck my breath in sharply. "Fuck! —fucking pricks!"
"You can't sleep tonight. You have to stay awake and talk to me." She's serious, and she's getting weepy again.
"This again..." I mutter, before deciding to let it go. I can't fault her for looking out for me even if she is a pain in the neck. "Alright, Bella-Bella-beetle-slug," I tease her with one of the rhymes I used to say when we were kids. Like most things with me, she pretended she hated them, but she was obvious even back then.
"Eddie-Freddie-spaghetti-and-peas," she reciprocates, breaking into laughter along with me, even as my ribs jerk in pain. We had a ton of them and we spent hours coming up with more inventive ones.
"You remember, snotface, huh?" I turn back to her again and rest my hand on her knee.
"How could I forget?" she replies tugging on my earlobe, and cupping the sides of my face she angles my head back and kisses me briefly. "You drummed them into me," she adds half against my lips.
"Isabella knobby knees, has a face like week-old cheese," I say when she releases me, laughing again like I'm drunk, but my brain's beginning to feel like it's on a time delay.
She shoves me—way too cautiously. "You were so horrible to me, you asshole."
"Hey, you had some good ones, as well," I remind her.
"Not as crappy as yours."
"I beg to differ. Remember this one? —Edward is a beanstalk, his hair's as red as blood," I imitate eight-year-old Bella.
"Bella is a Leprechaun, and her hair looks like mud," she counters, doing a smartass impression of me, and she pretty much nails it.
I attempt to smother my laugher this time because it's becoming fucking painful. I'm not very successful, though.
Okay, yeah, I was an asshole to her back then, but she made it too easy for me. Her face used to go beet red and she scowled at me like she wanted to deck me, but usually she bawled and went home in a sulk. I had to suck up to her to coax her back out, but that was never hard to do. I always won her over in the end.
Took me a bit longer this time, though.
"Shithead..." She pulls on my earlobe again, but she can't disguise the affection in her voice. Booger loves me.
"Hmm," I murmur, closing my eyes. "You don't remember everything, though..." I'm really hoping she will. It'll make shit a lot easier for me, because there are just some things I can't repeat.
"I do remember..." she says, her voice softening, and when I glance at her over my shoulder again, she immediately severs my gaze. It pretty much contradicts her.
"You do?" I'm not convinced. "Tell me."
"The last person you said it to was your mother." She's guessing, and in frustration, I groan only half beneath my breath.
"Bella..." I sigh.
"What?"
"Remember what I said. Please?" I all but beg her.
"It was years ago, Edward," she whispers sounding apologetic, but I'm not buying it.
"You remember. I know you do."
A/N: Thanks for reading, and thanks to Kim and Starry8. This chapter is unbeta'd btw. Kim's been super busy lately.