(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)
may i feel said he - e.e. cummings
April 12, 2005
He didn't know what came over him. Edward was shaking, his entire body, not just his hands. And one of them was throbbing now, as if the adrenaline that had been carrying him through had finally worn off and he was forced to feel everything all at once. A wave of nausea engulfed him again, this time impossible to swallow back. He leapt to his feet and dashed to the bathroom, crashing to his knees in front of his toilet and expunging the sparse remnants of his dinner the night before, along with the clear, bitter bile of his stomach that followed when there was no food left.
In only a second, he felt Bella's cool hand pressed to the back of his neck, where the sweat beaded. He tried to push her away, but her hands were insistent, brushing the hair from his forehead, cold fingertips trailing gently along his cheek. He closed his eyes at the relief they brought, balancing his head on the toilet seat.
"Should I be worried that the idea of loving me makes you vomit?" Bella said. She filled a cup with cold water from the tap and handed it to him. He rolled over to sit on the bathroom floor, still feeling shaky, too weak to stand up yet as every muscle in his body trembled. He looked up at her, prepared for an expression of disgust as she crouched in front of him with the water.
Instead, he was met with a soft smile and gentle, dark eyes. Her teeth were exposed, worrying the plump flesh of her bottom lip. He wanted to… he didn't know what he wanted. A joint, a cigarette, a fuck- it was usually one of those things. But his mind was just calm and blank, consumed only by thoughts of how her eyes were changing colour to a burnt gold.
She closed his hand around the glass, and he tilted it up to his mouth without leaving the capture of her gaze.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered.
"I feel like throwing up, too," Bella said softly, sitting gracefully in front of him with her legs crossed under her. "I thought love was supposed to be this glowy bubbly feeling, but I'm just…"
"Scared?" Edward offered. She giggled, nodding, and he couldn't help but share in her smile.
"Jasper never told me this felt so chaotic," she wondered aloud. "If he knew, I thought he would've given me a heads up."
He looked down and sighed, gulping down the end of his water. "He would know?" Edward asked, resigned.
"Jasper is gifted," Bella explained passively, and terror gripped him again. The nausea resurged and he turned his head, dry heaving into the toilet with Bella continuing to press her cool hands to his clammy skin. She disappeared once he finished, leaving him draped over the toilet and trying to catch his breath. Bella raced down the stairs and rifled through the refrigerator for a ginger ale before quickly returning to his side. "You're not running a fever," she observed. "And I don't smell anything off, not that I'm very practised in that regard. If I didn't know you, I might be more offended."
"You're offended?" Edward said bleaky.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"I know I've been with other women, but at least I'm not talking about them in front of you," he said.
Bella's eyes widened and she leaned back in rebuff. Her mouth fell open slightly in surprise before she snapped it shut, piecing together every word she's said about Jasper, the idea of what Edward must have seen when she found him in the school parking lot, and when he took her to the diner on the fun little motorcycle he rented to get around humans.
"Edward, I think I might have misled you," she started, brows furrowing as the words found her. He wasn't looking at her, but she stared at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, sweat coated his skin and plastered his hair to his forehead. He had never looked so lovely. There was a vulnerability that had emerged since the word love crossed his lips, the kind of earnest plea for reciprocation that he thought abandoned him before he could form memories. "When I say that Jasper is gifted, I mean in the supernatural sense. There are some of our kind that have powers beyond comprehension, like reading every thought you've ever had with a single touch, or inflicting a crippling pain with just a look. Jasper is an empath. He can sense the emotions of everyone around him, and influence them if he wants to. He can calm a rowdy crowd, or excite a sleepy group.
"You are under the misapprehension that Jasper is anything more than a friend or a brother to me. But he is. He's the one who found me after I was changed. I showed him there was a food source other than humans, and he taught me our laws." She reached her hand out to his face, pulling his head to cup his cheeks and stare into the verdant depths of his emerald eyes. "Vampires are unchanging, frozen in time. We are who we are from the moment we are bitten. Bitter, impulsive, happy, content, indecisive- whatever your state, that's what you stay. With one exception. We are allowed a change once, a second transformation. But only once. When we fall in love. And Edward, you are my change. You are my first kiss, my first date, my first and only love. I am permanently altered just by knowing you, and that will never change. But I'm so, so sorry that I hurt you by not realising what it looked like with Jasper."
She was breathing needlessly heavily, like she was trying to catch something escaping from her lungs. Edward was caught in her gaze, but all the tension had dissipated from his body. The clench of his jaw, the tightness of his stomach and pressure in his temples, it was all gone. His eyes had gone glassy, a single tear rolled down the fine arch of his cheekbone and left a flushed track in its trail.
He was so wrong about everything, and couldn't believe he had been such a jackass by jumping to conclusions. "I almost left you because of a stupid misunderstanding," he whispered.
"I caught you," Bella said. "I'll always catch you."
"In that case, help me up because I want to lay down but my legs feel like jelly."
Bella sighed dramatically, but she couldn't hide her smile as she rose and pulled him up with her. "I suppose your masculinity will be too compromised if I carry you."
Edward shrugged, noncommittal, but she took it as an invitation. She whisked him off his feet and swiftly deposited him on his bed, sinking into the mattress next to him. He collapsed backwards and laughed, and she couldn't help but join in.
"You're going to be the death of me," he groaned, throwing his arm over his face to try to hide his blush but failing anyway.
"I certainly hope not!" she exclaimed.
"A man has an idea of himself as, you know, a protector, strong and gallant. I'm gonna have to get over that one."
Her fingers brushed over his elbow, so light he could barely feel her touch, and when he peered over his arm he could see her face above his.
"Why are you sad?" he asked.
"I'm sorry you have to change yourself for me," she said. It was unfair to him, all of it. She was denying him all the joys of humanity, but she couldn't drag herself away from him. Not even if she truly tried, she knew she would return before he ever noticed she was gone.
"Didn't you just tell me the same is true for you?" he asked. "I know I'm no good at any of this shit, but aren't we supposed to, you know, try to be better for each other? At least, that's what Cosmo says." Her mouth opened and eyes widened in confusion, and Edward laughed at himself and tried to cover his face again. "Alice cut out an article for me and stuck it in my pocket. The Secret Way to Make Your Man Better in Bed, More Romantic, and a Great Listener."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly sharing in his embarrassment. "What did you learn?"
"You should let me watch you masturbate, I should put gas in your car, and you should only ask me questions when I'm, like, playing video games or something."
"Edward!" she squealed, burying her own face in her hands. He sat up and took a swig of the ginger ale she brought him, taking the opportunity to look over at where she was laying on his bed. Her dark hair was fanned out on his sheets, framing her pale face like a halo. He wished he could see her expression, but she was hiding it from him.
"What, you don't need gas? I know you can run everywhere, but that truck has to guzzle the fuck out of every gallon you put in."
He was teasing her, but everything about her teased him. He didn't know what he was thinking, bringing up that stupid fucking article. Alice had been clipping out shit from girly magazines for him to read for weeks, that was just the first one that came to mind. And they had only just talked about love, and he puked his guts out in front of her, but the idea of watching her… It wouldn't matter if someone was digging another bullet out of his abdomen, he would still want to see that.
"I think I'm good," she said weakly.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged, taking another gulp from his soda and leaving it on his bedside table to lay back down beside her. "The offer stands."
Her thoughts were racing. The offer for what? Oh God, oh God, she needed to talk to Jasper. She had no idea if this was something he would know about. She should've known it would be something Edward would be interested in, but with her? Didn't he realise… it wasn't just the bloodlust, was it, because there were so many other things he should be repelled by- the cold skin, the unyielding flesh, the way her body would never alter past seventeen. Didn't he realise that while he got older, she would look like she was still barely out of childhood? She knew what he must be used to, the experienced and worldly, girls and even women who knew what they were doing. She had no idea. Truly, the only thing she knew was that she loved him, and that was overwhelming enough.
She rolled onto her side and tucked her face into his neck and draped her arm across his chest. He smelled so sweet, and his jugular pulsed quickly with her proximity. It was his good hand that wrapped around her, pulling her closer.
"I love you," he said, voice barely above a whisper. She answered by pressing her lips to his throat, then at the curve of his jaw, then again at the corner of his mouth. But he turned his head away from her, and she recoiled. "Sorry," he said. "I need to brush my teeth."
"Edward," she giggled, shaking her head and ducking her head to kiss his cheek again, right where the bone curved sharply. "I don't care about that."
"I do!" he exclaimed, clapping his bad hand over his mouth and immediately wincing at the shooting soreness that ensued.
"I've drunk lizard blood. I promise you there can't be much worse."
"This is," he insisted, still keeping his mouth covered no matter how much she pouted and peppered his face with kisses so light it felt like the wings of a butterfly fluttering from his temple to the hollow of his throat. He rolled over on his stomach to escape her, but she straddled his back and softly sucked at the tender skin of his neck. He tasted like sunshine and boy, like warm honey soothing the kindling burn in her throat.
She only stopped when he groaned, jumping off of him and almost stumbling backwards. It was like he implanted the thought in her mind, and now she couldn't resist. She hadn't been out of control at all, that much she knew. At least, not in the way that she had been so closely monitoring herself for. Even with the scent of his blood still lingering in the air, it was dwarfed with the knowledge that he loved her and could admit it freely.
He rolled off the bed and rifled through his bedside table. She watched him secure a plastic bag over his hand with a rubberband, not daring to help him. He didn't struggle with it, though, and turned to her proudly.
"I need to shower," he announced. He felt sweaty and grimy, and he was desperate to brush his teeth and get both his skin and head clean and clear before figuring out how to broach any other subject with Bella, especially when she looked so timid and out of place standing at the foot of his bed.
There was a part of him that was waiting for her offer to join him, but instead she just smiled innocently and said, "I'll make you something for lunch!" before lithely dancing out of the room and back down the stairs. In reality, she was desperate for an escape from the tension that sat in the room. For some reason, she just assumed everything would be easy after she said what she needed to. She loved him, he loved her, he knew everything there was to know about her nature and history and she reassured him that the violence of his past would stay there. Never once did she think of the reality of what happened after boy loves girl, girl loves boy.
She knew, of course, the mechanics of it all. Her mom had a sex talk with her way too young, and even in her foggy human memories the trauma of that lived on. And she'd read as many textbooks as she could get her hands on. But it actually happening, not just in theory, and to her of all people? If she could kiss him, surely she could do anything, right? But he was human, delicate and breakable. And could she produce venom… down there? She ransacked the kitchen blindly, fumbling for whatever could pass for a mild human lunch that would be suitable for someone with an upset stomach and trying to distract herself in the preparations. It was too soon, wasn't it? She was mistaken. He'd made that masturbation comment in jest, trying to get a rise out of her, that was all. With everything that had happened in the span of a few hours, she was letting it cloud her judgement and race ahead of where they were.
Edward stared at the door she had left through, still trying to comprehend it all. He was so turned on it was unthinkable, and he could still feel her cool body pressed against his back deliciously, her legs cradled around him. He wandered into the bathroom and shedded his sweaty clothing, tossing them to the general vicinity of his laundry basket. He grabbed his toothbrush and glanced in the mirror, then did a double take at the sight of his neck. His skin was pinkening at the spot her mouth had been, and it felt cool and tingled pleasantly. He could see the beginnings of a hickey, and knew he'd be in turtlenecks and longsleeves for the foreseeable future until both his neck and hand healed.
He turned on the water with his good hand and held the other up and away from the spray of the water. He looked down and sighed, but the cold water wasn't really helping at all because all it did was make him think of Bella.
Edward, for one, had never gone so long without fucking a girl, but that's not what it was about anymore. He wanted to peel her clothes off and see what she was so desperately hiding underneath. He wanted to know if her nipples sparkled in the sunlight. He wanted to bury his head between her legs and stay there until his hair soaked through and her legs trembled and she begged him for more. He wanted to lose himself inside her and never leave. He wanted to swallow her sighs and hear his name in her voice. He wanted love on his lips and hers.
She was downstairs. There was no harm, and he was so tense he needed a release. Honestly, he was a little afraid he would eventually cum in his pants if she so much as looked at him the wrong way, the control she had over him was so total and encompassing. He kept his bandaged hand up, but his good hand was more useful. He rubbed it across his chest, aching for the coolness of her touch instead of the water. His hand mimicked fantasy, trailing down his abdomen without preamble until his fingers gripped the rock-hard length of his shaft and his breath became shaky and tense. He closed his eyes, picturing it all. The way her small hand would wrap around his, the relief of her touch on his burning flesh. He saw her pumping her hand up and down, her thumb brushing over the tip so gently but driving him wild.
He came in his own hand quickly, the tension he had been holding onto fading with the sound of her name whispered like a litany. He washed himself off with soap and rinsed out his hair. He was lucky that warm water held little interest to him, because it still ran as cold as he wanted it to by the time he switched it off and dried himself.
It was refreshing to not have his mind clouded. The clarity never lasted long, but it was present for the time being. He knew he was hungry and needed to eat, but after that, he wanted to know everything. Edward wanted to pry her open and learn her every hope and fear, wanted to make her fly on dreams. He wanted to soothe the worries she held so closely and smooth the wrinkle between her brows that only formed in an expression of concern. She was too sweet to measure, and so kind and understanding. He only wanted to extend that same grace back to her. She made the first move too often, it was his duty now to bridge whatever divided them and bind himself to her completely.
He dressed warmly, though the sun didn't dictate such outfitting. His neck was covered and he could pull his sleeve down to obscure the bandaging on his hand, should someone come home before he expected them he would be ready. Besides, maybe Bella could hear far enough to be able to tell if someone was walking up the front steps.
He bound down the stairs, led by the scent of food and smiled at the sight of a plate piled high with toast and eggs, but then the smile dropped. Bella looked frozen, her eyes wide and that furrow on her forehead deep and troubling.
He had underestimated her. Again. He thought her sense of hearing was just a little elevated, maybe slightly sharper than his own. But oh no, it was apparent from her expression that he was entirely mistaken because it was quite, quite clear that she heard everything.
