Hello everybody!
For those who are following this story, and are a little confused, don't worry, I'm working on changing it a bit, a makeover, if you wish. I just didn't like the way it flowed, seemed like it was going in a direction I didn't want it to go, so I'm changing it a little bit. All will be updated in it's order and time soon. Thank you for still sticking around. It means a lot. On to the show.
Chapter song: Princess of China, Coldplay and Rihanna
Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. All grammar mistakes are unfortunately mine.
Chapter 3
"Bella, you okay? You don't look so good."
"Fine. Didn't get a lot of sleep. I've been having those pesky dreams again."
"The dreams?" Alice asks excitingly.
"Yes Al. The dreams. "
She squeals. Actually squeals while clapping her hands. I roll my eyes. Only she can be this excited by the horrors called my life.
"Do tell," she says, closing her small work cabinet.
"Tie your shoes first", I say begrudgingly.
She nods enthusiastically while sitting down on a chair.
Momentarily, I sigh, already lost in a dream.
I was standing in the corner, trying to be invisible to people, even though after my birth, I was anything but. Still, I pretended to be good at it. Pretended to make an invisible bubble that would repel others from coming towards my way.
It was nice to know it helped. Sometimes.
Unfortunately, it wasn't really working tonight.
So I found a small spot that I knew would help in these moments.
I hated balls or anything involving them. I liked quiet, inconspicuous spaces. Books. Intelligent conversations.
Instead I was forced to play an entirely different person.
One who always smiled, danced, liked being in the centre of attention. Listened to men, and nodding at their advices like they were God send.
Nobody ever asked me what I want...what I think...how I feel.
Books were my salvation. My best friends. My everything.
Sounds sad, I know. But true. Mostly.
I did have friends, but choose not to conversate too much. The one advice that really served me well in life is: "Be careful who you speak your secrets to."
I learned that the hard way.
I chose my friends well. My enemies even more.
Another great advice? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
That one was continuously yet stubbornly spoken to me since I was 3.
One person that I truly wanted to talk to wasn't here, and no matter how much I needed her, I knew she never could be here. She wasn't allowed. Lower class rank people never could.
A sudden tingle spread all over my body. It made me shiver in the most pleasurable of ways.
Looking up, I realized why.
Somebody was watching me. But not just anybody.
A man.
Well...no, he was not an adult yet, and neither was I. In 18 months I would be 18, and ready to take over the crown.
His penetrative but quizzable stare made me uncomfortable. I quickly put my head down, trying to hide behind the book in my hands.
It didn't help. I still felt his eyes on me. His piercing onyx eyes.
Lifting my head quickly too see if I'm still being observed, I find that no one's there.
It made me overwhelmed with sadness, and disappointment. Frowning, I try to understand why.
Taking a deep breath, I release it slowly. It helps. A little.
Getting back to my book, I hear a voice, soft as a whisper, smooth as a silk and warm as honey.
"Looking for someone?"
I don't look up. I'm too afraid to do so.
"No."
I feel his smile under my skin. It tingles and warms me up in ways I never expected.
"You're a terrible liar. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"No." Yes.
"You should keep practicing, just in case."
Now that sounded a bit rude. I close the book with a thud, ready to look up. How dare he call me a liar? Me? A future queen?
"How dare you..."
Just then a man quickly, hurriedly approaches.
"Princess Isabella, allow me to introduce my very chatty cousin, Edward Cullen."
He bows his head elegantly, a hat in his left hand.
"I hope you can forgive his manners. I'm Jasper Whitlock."
I nod just as I was taught. Respectfully yet elegantly. Like a royal should.
"Nice to meet you, Jasper. No apologies needed. You came just in time." I smile.
A warm laugh entices my body, making it giddy and light. My anxiety disappears, for a moment.
It's Edward's laugh. Of course. The way he looks at me right now, with mirth and elatedness, maybe a bit smugness but mostly, infatuation. Like I'm a puzzle that he's more than ready to solve. Challenge he's ready to achieve in the best way. Over and over again.
There is a look that passes between them. A moment later Jasper clears his throat. Even fidgets with his hat before gets interrupted.
"Princess, I was thinking, if it's not a bother..."
"Jasper Masen Whitlock...is that you or do my eyes deceive me?"
"No, they do not ma'am." He smiles. It looks polite and relieved at the same time.
"It really is you. Look at you. You're all grown up. Come, I need you to greet someone. They'll love you."
She pulls him into her path, involving him into her circle of high society, leaving me alone with Edward.
"So, Isabella...do you dance?"
"It's princess Isabella, to you. I have a title."
My voice sounds snobby and repulsive, reminding me momentarily of my mother, but I don't care.
He smiles, giving a bit of his smirk back at me. It's almost annoying. Almost.
"I know. I like Isabella better. Do you mind?"
"Yes, actually."
"I don't think you do." There's that smirk again.
"You don't know me Mr..."
"Edward," he interrupts.
"Well, Mr. Edward..."
A grin.
"Just Edward. Please."
"Very well 'just Edward'. You may think you read me like a book, but you don't know anything about me."
"Will you let me then?" he asks suddenly.
"Let you what?"
"Get to know you."
"Why would I?"
"Because I want you to."
This shocks me. But I don't let him see.
"Why?"
"You intrigue me...princess." He says my title not out of disrespect but in such a peculiar way it makes me smile. Almost.
Intrigue. That's what he is.
Mystery.
Freedom.
"I don't dance."
"What?" he asks, confused.
"You asked me to dance earlier. But I don't dance. Not really. Two left feet."
Quickly, I lift my dress, showing him my ankles.
He throws his head, letting out a boisterous laugh.
It makes him look so carefree and young. Attractive.
My whole body tingles.
"Good. Because I don't care for it much either...princess. I prefer walking."
"Well, look at that. Something we actually agree on."
We smile at each other, and this time, instead of the smirk, he shows me his devastatingly gentle one.
And his eyes...even though they are as dark as charcoal, I see the light shining out of them. In this moment...I feel like I've known him my whole life, like we have finally met after so long.
A long lost friend. Kindred spirits.
"Shall we then?" He asks, offering his hand.
"We shall."
"Omg, that was so romantic " she added sighing, just as she was about to step out of my car.
"Romantic? Al, you've been watching way too much movies lately."
"Hey, don't judge me, you know I love them. Besides, I don't judge you or your questionable taste in men, so neither should you do the same to me.
I frown. She's right. She never once told me once how crazy this all sounded, but continued to support me still, day after day, unlike my mother.
"I'm sorry Al, you're right. That was a little bitchy of me to say.
She laughs. "You said that, not me. Well, gotta go, thanks for the lift babe. See you tomorrow?
"Yep. see ya."
Opening the door to my apartment, I walk inside the kitchen to get a glass of water.
I know, in my head that these dreams, fantasies, are not real. I know that. And that's what I keep reminding myself every night.
But my heart-this empty vessel that beats sadly, second after second, cries and weeps for him- says otherwise, and it won't stop beating for him. This imaginary man, boy...whoever he is...he is a figment of my imagination, yet...ever so quietly, my heart whispers...it's not my imagination. It's real.
He's real.
There he is. In my dreams again.
As we walk next to each other, he keeps looking resilient, yet ashamed somehow?
I take a look at my clothes but I don't recognize it.
Why? Because it seems, once again, we are not in the 21th century. Looking around, all I see is destruction and chaos. Sadness. War.
"Hey," he says, taking my hand instantly. The warmth and pleasure of that simple act makes me search for words. I don't know what to say, how to behave. My body never felt such strange yet pleasant emotions in my entire adult life.
His skin is soft yet rough around the edges. Filled with blisters and blood.
I don't care though. I tighten his hand in mine and smile. It feels bittersweet and blissful at the same time.
For a moment, it is just us. There is no war, no sadness, no violence. Only us. Only him. Only me.
Then it all goes to hell.
"I'm being transferred tonight."
"What? Why?!"
But we both know the answer.
"I can't stay for long. Do you want to maybe go get some coff..."
"I'm pregnant," I blurt out.
A few heads turn around, but I don't give a damn.
"What?! Is...is it mine?"
I pull my hand away from his, heart pierced through and stabbed repeatedly with tiny little needles.
Breathe. Can't breathe from the pain.
"Whose would it be? You're such an asshole!"
"Sorry. I'm sorry. I just...I'm surprised."
"Well, join the club," I mutter harshly.
He takes my hand again and pulls us toward the bench outside. I let him.
Taking a seat, we are both silent, knowing there is no way out.
"What now?" he whispers, but mostly to himself.
A deep deflated sigh. "I don't know."
"If there was any other way..."
"I know," I whisper, tears filling my eyes.
He quickly wipes them away before they reach my cheeks.
"We'll find a way. I promise."
"How?" I ask, suddenly sobbing.
Panic overwhelms me. All I can do is take short shallow breaths. Feels like my heart is being crushed by an elephant, my eyes getting blurry and all I can do is gasp for air.
1.2.3. Breathe.
"Hey, hey, look at me. It's fine, you're just having a panic attack. It will pass. Concentrate on me. On my eyes. Good. Very good. Now breathe."
I take a deep dive into his beautiful green eyes. As I concentrate more on them, I realize they are not completely green, but have a splotch of brown around his pupils. Reminds me of nature. Of trees and dirt. Of childhood and safety. Of my old home. Of love. Peace. Strength.
I always did love his eyes. One of the things I recognized immediately upon meeting him.
"I like your eyes," I whisper, able to speak again. "Always did. Did I ever tell you that?"
He smiles, almost shyly.
"I like yours too."
A heavy deflated sigh. „What are we going to do? We can't live like this."
"I don't know, but we will find a way out. I swear. Believe me Bella, please."
"I do. Always," I say instantly.
"Good. We'll find a way. You know we will."
"Always," I repeat, once more.
I suddenly wake up with a sob, putting my hand over the mouth in order not to scream. Even after the dream is done I still hear the voices.
Still can hear the screams, feel the anguish, feel the overwhelming pain, and terror of the war that terrorized every single living person over the years. What confused me even more is how did I know...
How did I know that I was volunteering as a nurse in the hospital? Surrounded day after day with injuries and blood curling screams that were my everyday occurrence. Fighting with death. Fighting for soldiers' lives.
Theirs.
Mine.
How did I know we met exactly like that? Him sitting on the hospital bed with wounds all over his body, particularly his left hand, fighting, and yet poorly so, weak from the blood loss. Thankfully, the bullet pierced him only superficially.
Still, it took three nurses to calm him down and try to get him the help he needed.
I forced him to concentrate, to look upon my eyes as the nurses tried to fix him up.
That's where the magic began. Where I felt the tingle. Felt this strange warmth come all over my body with just one look from him.
Even after the nurses were done and the wounds were taken care of, he still kept his eyes on me. Felt like an eternity.
Until it wasn't.
As I pick up my bathrobe from the hanger, deciding to wear it, my drowsy feet take me to the bathroom to wash out my crying face. After I'm done, I take a glass of water from the kitchen and go straight to the living room.
Turning on the tv, there is a re run of Friends.
I've seen them more than ten times, but they kind of soothe me. Make me forget about my own nightmares.
I'm in the middle of the third episode when my own eyes close for the second time. Fortunately, there is only darkness, and that's how it stays, 'till the early morning.
Hope the chapter wasn't too boring for ya. Thanks for reading!
P.S. I'm looking for a beta...anybody interested?