Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
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Where the Lines Overlap
Season 2 - Looking Up
Ain't it fun
I couldn't bear the silence between us.
It was suffocating, heavy with everything I hadn't said—and everything I had done. The moment I saw him, saw the hurt in his eyes, the dam inside me broke. Guilt surged through me, sharp and unrelenting. There was no holding back now, no time to think or brace myself. I needed to fix this, to take back the damage I'd done, even if I wasn't sure how.
"I'm sorry." I blurted out before Edward could say a word, my voice cracking with guilt. "I'm so, so sorry, babe…"
He stood still, lips parting slightly as if he wanted to speak, but no words came. The longer he stayed silent, the more my anxiety swelled, the more overwhelmed I felt. I had to move, to do something, or I might lose my grip entirely again.
I closed the distance between us, reaching out to cup his face, and my heart twisted painfully when I saw how puffy and red his eyes were.
God, what had I done to him?
The pain I'd caused was written all over his face, and it stung—more than I was ready to admit.
"I got so angry I lost control," I rushed out, my words stumbling between fresh, silent sobs. "But I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It's not your fault. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. I was a jerk, an insensitive, stupid jerk. Can you forgive me, please? I feel so fucking…"
His forehead pressed against mine, and suddenly his hands were on my face, steadying me before I could spiral further. I didn't deserve it—his calm, his touch—but I clung to it anyway.
"Shhh, it's okay," he whispered, his voice soft but firm as quiet streams flowed down his cheeks. "It's okay. We'll be okay."
We stared at each other through our tears, the strain of all that remained unsaid lingering in the air. His forgiveness came so quickly, but it wasn't that easy—not for me. I pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly for a moment, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, as if I could convince myself we really would be okay.
Edward eventually sat down on the couch, the exhaustion visible in his movements. I found myself sitting on the coffee table in front of him without even thinking, the action triggering a faint echo of the earlier moment with Mark, which made my thoughts drift involuntarily to him.
"Where did Mark go?" The question slipped from my lips, my voice laced with confusion as I felt an unsettling shift within me, a pang of something I couldn't quite name.
Edward's breath wavered as he spoke.
"I'm not sure… He said he would give us some privacy after I asked if I could come get you." He ran a hand over his face, as though trying to gather himself. "I know you knew it was me on the phone… I just wanted to explain what happened, but he told me you had already said everything. Then I asked if it was a good idea to pick you up—I wasn't sure if you even wanted to see me."
"I didn't," I admitted, the words spilling out before I could stop them, the simmering anger contained but still bubbling up inside. I saw Edward's eyes drop, his expression wounded, but I had to be honest. "I was afraid of how I'd react, because… the truth is…" My chest tightened as I forced myself to continue. "Edward, I blame you. I don't want to, but I do. I resent you for what happened and… for what's been happening between us."
He dropped his head, running a hand through his hair in slow, deliberate motions as though calming himself.
"That's why I reacted the way I did, why I was so angry," I went on, my voice cracking. "And honestly, I still am."
"How come?" His voice was quiet, still not looking at me.
"You're the reason I'm out," I whispered, barely able to look at his saddened face as I spoke. "It's because of you that I don't even think twice anymore if I'm being obvious or explicit when we're in public." His eyes flicked up to meet mine, listening intently. "When that guy said those things… I wasn't just mad at him. I was mad at you, too. For holding me back, for stopping me from doing what I felt I needed to do."
"I was trying to—"
"Prevent damage, I know," I interrupted, the words coming out sharper than I intended. "But deep down, I've been holding in so much. I've been holding myself back, not saying what I really want to say, or not reacting how I want to… all because I don't want to hurt you. And when you held me back today, it triggered everything I'd been pushing down." My breath came out in a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. It's not fair to you, I know. None of this is your fault, but… I've changed so much for you. I've done everything to be the person you need."
Edward looked up, his eyes wide with surprise.
"I never asked you to change, Jazz," he said, his voice filled with hurt. "I told you not to. Because I was afraid this would happen—" Edward's hand lifted in a small, defeated gesture toward me, like he was grasping for something he couldn't quite reach. "Exactly what's happening now. This... resentment."
I exhaled, feeling the weight of his words.
"I know you didn't ask. I did it out of fear…" My voice quivered as the words caught in my throat. "Fear of losing you." I shook my head, guilt swelling inside me again. "That's why I ran today… I didn't want to hurt you more than I already was."
"Is that why you came here? To get away from me?" His words were quiet, and I saw his gaze falter, just for a second, like the thought had drained something out of him.
I shook my head.
"I came here because I needed Mark," I said, my voice low and tentative, as if the words themselves could shatter the fragile air between us. "I was lost… I didn't understand why I was so angry at you. I didn't know where else to go. Deep down, I just knew he'd help me make sense of it."
As I spoke, I noticed Edward's gaze shifted slightly, his expression unreadable but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. I brushed it off, focusing on the memories with Mark, how he listened, how he somehow made things clearer, which felt oddly comforting amidst the chaos.
Edward's eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"And did he?"
I nodded.
"He did. I vented, he listened, and while I talked, things began to make sense, I started to understand what was really going on inside me." I let out a humorless chuckle. "I didn't want to say something I'd regret or hurt you even more. I didn't want to make things worse. That's why I didn't answer your calls. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop the harsh words from spilling out." Guilt crept in again as I watched Edward's tears spill over, his lips pressed together in a quiet, hurt acceptance. "I didn't handle it well… I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that. I wish I could undo all of it."
Edward's breath hitched, and before I could continue, he blurted out.
"But you did hurt me." His voice broke, raw with the pain I'd caused. "It really hurt, Jazz."
I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten.
"I know. Please forgive me, babe," I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. I could feel the tears slipping down my cheeks again, releasing all I'd bottled up inside.
Edward took a deep breath, his shoulders rising as he seemed to gather his thoughts, his gaze drifting for a moment as if searching for the right words.
"I got angry too, you know? But I was trying to stop something worse from happening. I didn't want you to get hurt or arrested for assault…" His voice softened, nearly a whisper now, his tears continuing to fall. "I was trying to protect you."
"I know," I mumbled, my own tears falling freely. "I know you were."
"But when you turned and looked at me like that… so furious…" He paused, his voice wavering. "I could tell it was directed at me. And… I get it, I do. I understand why you blamed me, even if it was unconscious. But, fuck, Jasper…" He let out a nervous chuckle through his tears, shaking his head slightly. "You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have run away."
His words shattered my last bit of composure. I could hear the pain in his voice, the fear, the love still clinging to the edges despite everything.
"God, don't push me away," he sobbed softly, trembling as he cried. "Don't distance yourself from me… You know it kills me when you do that."
I nodded weakly, lowering my head as shame settled deeper in my chest. He reached out, gently lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"You could have waited by the car," he continued, his voice shaky but growing steadier. "Or at least answered one of my calls. If you had told me you needed time, I would've understood."
A quiet, broken laugh escaped me.
"I was all over the place, E." My voice came out strangled. "I was mad, scared of hurting you more. I didn't think, I just acted." My words broke into a sob, and I buried my face in my hands, shoulders shaking as the weight of it all crashed down on me.
I felt Edward move closer, shifting to the edge of the couch. His hands found mine, prying them away as my fingers resisted slightly, trembling in the fear of facing him. I knew he could still see the tears streaking down my flushed cheeks.
"We'll be okay," he whispered, his thumbs brushing softly across my damp skin. "As long as we keep talking, we'll be fine." His voice was heavy with emotion. "But you can't keep pushing me away, Jazz. You can't keep holding things back every time you get scared." His words hung in the air, hitting me and sinking deeper than I was ready for. "You need to talk to me, hon. Please, talk to me."
I nodded, my mind struggling to absorb the weight of his words. Before I knew it, I was kneeling in front of him, my hands cupping his face. His eyes locked onto mine, intense, searching for something deeper. His pupils were slightly dilated, and his expression was focused, vulnerable.
"Tell me you forgive me, angel," I said, my voice firm despite the plea. "Please."
He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly.
"I forgive you, love." His voice was soft, carrying a sincerity that I could feel more than hear. The tension in him seemed to ease, the words settling between us, steadying the space.
I straightened and pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing my face into the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around my shoulders. He relaxed into the embrace, and I felt something shift inside me—a strange mix of comfort and unease. I tightened my hold on him, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in the scent that had always been so familiar.
We stayed like that for a while, letting the silence speak for us, the connection between us mending in the quiet.
But beneath the surface, I felt the conversation was far from over, threads of unspoken thoughts and feelings still weaving in our bond.
"There's more I need to say," I murmured eventually, my voice low but a little more steady. I wasn't finished yet, but I was ready to be honest—to trust that we could handle the truth.
Edward didn't move, but his soft nod against my neck told me he understood.
"I know," he whispered.
It didn't surprise me. He always had a way of sensing when something was off, even when I wasn't ready to admit it. He'd given me space, understanding my need for time, just as I often did for him when he needed it. But now, we both knew it was time to face everything together—for his sake as much as mine.
"Let's go home," he said gently, his tone steady, his eyes calm as he met mine. "We can talk more there."
I nodded, a sense of relief washing over me. There would be time, and we could ease into the rest of the conversation when we were ready. He kissed me then, tender but firm, and I returned the kiss, feeling something settle within me.
As we stood up, a smile played at the corners of his mouth, but the reality of where we were hit me—Mark's apartment.
I glanced around, my gaze landing on the empty space where Mark should've been.
My chest tightened, an odd hollowness settling beneath my ribs.
"Can you wait a moment?" I asked Edward, already reaching for my phone as I headed toward the balcony.
The line rang a few times before Mark picked up.
"Where are you?" The words came out faster than I intended, and a strange tension laced my voice as I tried to sound neutral.
He sighed, and the sound made something stir inside me, sharp and uncomfortable—something I didn't quite understand.
"I'm at a friend's," he said evenly, though there was a quiet note in his voice that wasn't lost on me. "Don't worry, you can stay there as long as you need. Just focus on talking to Edward."
Why did my stomach seem to drop as I processed his simple words?
My eyes drifted shut.
"We've talked," I sighed, glancing back at Edward, searching for an anchor in him, but the displaced feeling stayed. "We're heading home. Are you coming back?"
"I think I'll crash here tonight." His voice was casual, but the thought of him being at someone else's place didn't sit right with me. "You can lock up. There's a spare key on the hook."
A silence followed and stretched heavier than I anticipated, though I couldn't place why. Something more lingered in that pause, unsaid and unasked.
"You okay?" Mark's voice softened, like he could sense the shift in me. There was a carefulness to it.
I hesitated before answering.
"I don't really know," I said quietly, the honesty catching me off guard. It felt like admitting something I wasn't ready to face yet. "Will you run with me tomorrow?"
He exhaled softly, and it sounded different, almost like relief.
"If you feel like it, yeah." There was warmth in his voice, a quiet understanding I suddenly craved. I could almost sense the faint smile behind his words, a bittersweet comfort I wasn't sure I deserved.
"I do, I…" I whispered, the words hovering, unsteady, in my mind. My grip tightened on the phone. I wanted to say more—something about how much I needed to see him—but the thought remained lodged in my throat. I loosened the clasp before it could escape.
"I'll wait for you tomorrow, then," Mark said gently. "See you tomorrow, Hale."
His voice was light, but something about him using my last name felt off. Hale. It didn't feel right, but I didn't correct him.
"See you," I replied quietly.
I ended the call, my thoughts feeling dense. Mark's voice lingered in my mind, weirdly unsettling me as I went back to Edward.
I locked the door to his apartment, the click of the key sounding louder than I expected in the stillness. Edward stood beside me, his presence solid, reassuring. Without a word, I slipped the key into my pocket and turned toward him.
Edward's hand found mine, the heat of his touch familiar, centering me in the moment. I squeezed back, reminding myself that this—we—was where I belonged. But as we walked to the car, and even after settling into the passenger seat, Mark's key pressed heavily against my thigh, a quiet burden I couldn't quite ignore.
.
.
.
Almost a month later, I found myself thinking back to that conversation, the memory of it clearer now as I ran alongside Mark. Things with Edward had improved—less about avoiding topics and more about facing them together—but there were still some things I kept close, even if I wasn't holding it all in anymore.
Besides Bella, I now had Mark as a confidant, and he had been a steady companion throughout my journey of self-discovery and self-improvement.
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before settling onto the grass. Mark sat beside me, stretching his legs in front of him. We had been running together every morning without fail since that first time. It had become our routine—each day was another opportunity to train side by side. The discipline felt good, and having his company made exercising enjoyable. It was clear we were growing even closer, enhancing the sense of comfort he had brought me since we met.
I shared most of my issues with him; we talked often. Mark was responsible for my newfound ability to keep my cool in tougher moments. He constantly offered insights that opened my eyes to perspectives I had never considered. I had improved my self-control far more than I thought possible. All of it was thanks to the moments I spent listening to my friend's arguments and opinions.
As I glanced at him while he stretched, cracking his neck, a thought struck me out of nowhere: why was such a nice, mature, intelligent, and handsome guy like him alone? Was it a choice?
"I'd love to have gingerbread for breakfast," a deep, suggestive voice drifted over to us.
I turned to see a tall guy, probably in his early twenties, practically undressing Mark with his gaze. A low chuckle rumbled beside me and I glanced at him; his expression was a mix of amusement and surprise, his head shaking lightly in disbelief.
The guy kept walking, but something twisted inside me. I'd dealt with this before—trained myself to ignore the prickling discomfort. I brushed it aside.
"Why don't you go after him?" I suggested, my voice light but edged with something sharper. It felt like a playful jab.
Mark's eyes widened in surprise.
"And why the hell would I do that?" he shot back, his tone still teasing.
"To get his number," I replied, letting the words hang in the air with a shrug, but my heart raced slightly. "I mean, he's cute, right? Tall and… has a nice body? I didn't really pay attention to his face." My voice trailed off, an involuntary hint of unsure.
Mark's laughter echoed again, still laced with amusement.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?"
I chuckled, a blush creeping up my neck.
"Not really…"
"He actually is cute, but I'm not interested." The admission rolled off Mark's tongue easily, but it struck deep within me, a sense of unexpected contentment unfurling in my chest.
I bit my lip, stifling a smile that threatened to break free.
"So you really have never felt attracted to another guy besides Edward, huh?" He asked, apparently unaware of my reaction. There was a contemplative weight to his tone, as if he was wrestling with genuine doubt.
I pursed my lips, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment.
"No."
"You don't even see it. You actually don't think guys are cute or handsome." It wasn't phrased as a question; his voice carried that pensive edge again.
Something stirred inside me, and I turned my gaze to the ground, heart beating faster than it should've. Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out.
"I think you're handsome… and cute." I muttered, the words coming out quicker than I expected.
I didn't need to look at him to feel the impact of what I'd said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mark pausing mid-stretch, his attention caught. I kept my focus elsewhere, willing myself to ignore the heat radiating from my face, trying to convince myself I hadn't just said something significant.
"Well, thanks." His voice carried a hint of disbelief, mingling with something else I couldn't quite decipher.
"But yeah… mostly, I don't really see it." I rushed to clarify, eager to diffuse the sudden tension. "It's weird, you know? Being almost blind to men. It's why I think I'm not gay."
After a brief, strained silence, Mark spoke again.
"Because you can't see the appeal in other men besides Edward… right?" His tone cautious.
And you… hovered in my mind, but I held it back, a part of me aware that acknowledging it would change everything. I wasn't ready to confront that. Not yet.
"Yeah." My voice sounded sure, maybe too sure. "If I were gay, wouldn't I feel something whenever I saw a guy? Like a pull, even if it's subtle?"
Mark's gaze held mine, his expression unreadable for a moment.
He shifted, crossing his legs as he turned to face me fully. I mirrored him, leaning in slightly, waiting for his response.
"Not really," he said, his tone calm. "I'm gay, but I don't feel attracted to every guy. It's not like that. I think it works the same as it does for straight people. You feel something when there's… something that clicks. It's not a math formula—it's simple chemistry."
"Yeah, I get that." I nodded, more to myself than him. "That's how it was with Edward. One day I just looked at him, and something… shifted."
As I said it, my mind drifted back to Edward, how everything had changed in a single moment, like someone had turned a light on in a room I didn't even know was there. But that was different—wasn't it? With Edward, I'd known, eventually. But with Mark… I wasn't noticing him more than I should... or was I?
"That's exactly it." He returned the nod.
I heaved a breath, forcing myself to resume.
"I still notice girls. They're still… hot. But besides Edward, it never happens with guys…" I exhaled, feeling the weight of the unspoken—except… you.
"Maybe it's because your focus is on one guy. You don't see anyone else."
It landed, but didn't settle.
"If that's true, why did I feel something for Allegra? And… why do I notice… you?"
"With me, it's probably because we've gotten real close, real fast." His eyes narrowed, like he was weighing the words.
"That makes sense," I accepted. "But Allegra…"
His brow furrowed, lips pressed together as he sat with that question.
"Maybe you're bi," he finally said. "But you're definitely not straight."
I frowned at that, taking a deep breath. I stared off at the park, the thought sinking in, even if it didn't fully take root.
"Don't overthink it," he added, his voice softer now, drawing my attention back to him. "It'll make sense eventually. You spent years thinking you liked only girls. And now, you love a guy. It's a lot. But you don't have to figure it out today. Let your mind settle. Just…" He shrugged. "Do what feels right. Your heart knows the way." He shot me a wink. "Besides, with the bond you and Edward have, I doubt it'll matter if you ever notice anyone else. You've probably found your one."
We shared a quiet laugh, a truth so obvious it didn't need words.
As Mark's laughter faded, he looked down, but a question had been lingering in the back of my mind for a while now.
"What about you…?" The words slipped out, hesitant and low. "Why are you alone?"
His head shot up, surprise flashing in his eyes. I immediately felt like I'd pried too much, but he was my friend, and he knew practically everything about me and Edward. We often talked about sex for crying out loud. Personal stuff wasn't exactly off-limits between us.
But with the way he just stared, I figured I should explain.
"I mean, you've got guys all over you. Drooling when you walk by, dropping hints…" We both laughed but my humor was slightly forced. "It's not like you don't have options."
"Yeah…" His brows furrowed, a sigh slipping out. "I've got some options…"
"Like that guy earlier," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but mostly they're just…" He shrugged. "Flirt… or one-night stands."
His eyes shifted, growing guarded again, the easy humor from earlier fading.
I studied his expression, trying to figure out what had shifted, but came up empty.
"So what you're saying is… you hook up a lot." I grinned, teasing. It felt like I was trying to pull him out of his mood, even if just for a moment. "You're finally confessing you're a manwhore?"
He burst out laughing, and I couldn't hold my grin back.
"I guess you could say that…" He said between chuckles. "I've been with a lot of guys lately." His laughter trailed off, and his face grew serious again. "But I wasn't always like this. I used to want something real. Something serious." He hesitated, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his face. Once again he looked down at his hands. "Then I had my heart shattered. And after that… something inside me just… broke."
I felt a pang deep in my chest, sharp and unexpected. I'd never seen Mark like this—so weighed down by something he usually kept hidden. It hurt just to witness it.
"I'm sorry," I offered, my tone almost hesitant.
"It's okay. It's been some time since it happened. I'm over it." He said it flatly, as if the words were well-rehearsed.
"Not completely," I countered, softening my voice. His eyes snapped to mine, a questioning look lingering there. "If you're still avoiding commitment…" I shrugged, letting the unspoken truth hang in the silence.
He sighed, heavier this time, his gaze drifting away again.
"You're probably right." His brows lifted as though the admission surprised even him. "Guess I'm still not ready to open up."
I followed his gaze to his hands, noticing his fingers fidgeting absently. I watched him, and that strange urge to protect him rose up, uninvited. But it wasn't just sympathy. There was something deeper.
Why did I care this much about the pieces he kept hidden?
Instead of offering the comfort I suddenly wanted to give, I asked the question that was gnawing at my curiosity.
"Was it Kyle?"
A humorless chuckle escaped his lips.
"And you once said I was observant."
I exhaled softly, waiting. His expression turned serious again.
"Yeah. It was him." The words came out flat, but a thread of resentment wove through them, too faint for him to notice, maybe. "He totally broke my heart." He threw it out there like it was a joke, but I felt the sting beneath it.
"How can you still be friends with him if he hurt you…?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, and with it, that odd wave of anger roiled through me, settling uncomfortably in my gut.
"We ended on good terms." He shrugged, like it was nothing. "And it was my decision, not his. Besides, he's actually a really supportive friend."
"I don't get it," I muttered, the confusion clear in my voice.
Mark took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he were bracing himself. He gazed up at me, his eyes locking onto mine, like he was trying to communicate something deeper than words. For a moment, he looked... vulnerable, like he was letting me in a bit more than he'd done before.
"I'd never fallen in love before him," he began, his voice slow, deliberate. "I'd had experiences with a few guys, and one serious relationship that never really mattered much." He paused, as though sorting through the memories. "When I met him, it wasn't immediate. He seemed interesting, but I was focused on basketball, you know? Too distracted to notice. But he kept... pushing, making sure we were alone, flirting." Mark's lips twitched as if recalling it. "Then he asked me out."
Another shrug, and the anger in my gut stirred again, unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
"We hooked up a lot," he continued. "But it wasn't until this one moment when we just kissed that it hit me. I was falling for him." Mark sighed, the memory seemingly weighing him down. I watched, absorbing every word. "I was the one who wanted something serious. I asked him to be my boyfriend, and he said yes. But Kyle…" His voice softened as he trailed off. "He has this wild, free spirit. It wasn't long before he wanted to make it… an open relationship."
I scoffed without meaning to. Kyle sounded like a jerk.
Mark just went on.
"I couldn't comply." Mark shook his head, his eyes distant. His fingers ran absently over his knees, restless. "I didn't want to share him. Not with anyone." He drew in a deep breath. "So I decided it was better to end things. He didn't want to, but I didn't really give him much of a choice… It was either me and no one else, or him alone, free to have whoever he wanted." Mark's smile was hard, humorless. "You can guess what he chose."
I stared at him, feeling the tension rise in my chest.
"How do you still talk to him so casually?" My words were edged with disbelief.
"It took me a while to get past the pain, but eventually, I realized it was for the best. "He never lied. He didn't cheat." Mark's voice softened, his gaze dropping again, as if trying to convince himself. "I just... I couldn't accept what he wanted. But that doesn't make him a bad guy. I had no reason to cut him out of my life."
I watched him for a moment, feeling that strange, unfamiliar pang again. It shouldn't have bothered me this much to know someone had hurt Mark like that.
Maybe it did because of the way he cared, always looking out for me. The way he let his guard down, even if only for a second. Maybe because I really cared about him.
In the short time we'd known each other, I'd come to feel this deep affection for him. For his strength, but also his kindness, his honesty, his constant care.
And although it happened fast, it felt real—something I knew I'd hold onto for a long time. I liked to believe that.
"And ever since you and Kyle…" This time, I wasn't holding back. He'd opened up to me, like I'd done so many times with him. We could talk about this. "You haven't met anyone you could trust enough to open up again?"
Mark drew a deep breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
"I have met someone… someone worth the effort." His head dipped slightly. "I would've opened up to him. I know I would've fallen hard if I had the chance." But then, his expression changed. He bit the corner of his lip, as if holding back a wave of disappointment. "But he's already with someone. And I don't mess with that. So, that ship's sailed."
"You just backed off?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and admiration tugging at my voice.
"I never even tried." He chuckled, the sound hollow. "And I won't. It's just not right." He shrugged.
I stared at him, my mind turning over his words. That was… a rare thing to do. Most people wouldn't. Not Luke. Not Kyle.
Mark let out a breath, the kind that felt like shaking off old thoughts, then looked at me with a renewed glint in his eye.
"Race to my building?" His challenge was playful, a welcome change from the heaviness of our talk.
I smiled, nodding. He jumped up and pulled me to my feet.
"Let's go, Hale. Golden boy must be waiting."
"And I can't keep him waiting."
And just like that, we took off, sprinting side by side, both of us racing to leave the conversation behind.
.
.
.
"Babe?" I called out as soon as I got inside.
No answer.
It was Saturday, and even though we didn't have classes, I knew he'd already be up. Probably in the shower.
As I made my way to his room, the conversation with Mark still lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn't shake how Mark opening up to me made me feel—even closer, more connected to him.
But as I reached the doorsill, those thoughts started to dissolve. My heart began to pound faster, the urge to see Edward spiking.
It didn't make sense—I'd just seen him an hour ago. Was it always going to feel like this? That rush of wanting to see him, like I hadn't in ages?
Yes. I loved Edward so much; it always felt like I was falling for him all over again
I slipped into his bathroom unnoticed. He was lost in thought under the spray, back turned, palms pressed against the tile, head bowed. I took a moment to admire him—the water cascading over his broad shoulders and sculpted back, pooling at his perfect ass.
I sighed, my body stirring at the sight of him. Our sex life was incredible, but no matter how often we touched, I was always hungry for more.
"What are you doing?" His thick voice snapped me out of it.
I smiled, caught. How did he always know when I was watching?
"Admiring my playground," I said, my voice teasing.
He laughed and turned to me. "Your playground, huh?"
I nodded, my eyes trailing over him.
"The front yard's even better…" My gaze slid down from his legs to his chest, pausing as his cock started to harden.
When our eyes met again, he raised a brow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"You think?"
I started undressing slowly, just to tease him.
"Yeah, I do."
He chuckled, sliding the shower door open. I stripped the last of my clothes and stepped in, immediately pushing him back against the wall, hands flat on his chest.
Of course, he could've stopped me; I wouldn't be able to push him if he didn't want me to. But Edward hardly ever resisted my advances. I wasn't intimidated by his size anymore—I knew he liked when I acted dominant.
So I took the lead, flattening my hands against the tiles, trapping him between me and the wall. I moved closer, tilting my head up as he bent his.
Our noses, chests, and cocks brushed against each other.
"I missed you," I said, locking eyes with him. His turned grayer.
His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, sending a thrill through my body as our erections pressed together against our wet skin.
"You did?" His gaze softened.
"I always do, babe." I tilted my head and whispered, "I love you," my heart racing as I searched his eyes for his reaction before kissing him.
We kissed softly, our bodies instinctively rubbing against each other, reacquainting after just a short while apart. He sighed, breaking the kiss to look at me.
"I love you more, and I missed you, too."
Edward leaned his head on my shoulder, trailing open-mouth kisses to my neck.
"How was the run?" he asked, sliding his tongue along my skin.
"It was good… but I wanted to come home to you." I pressed my cock against him and hummed low.
His smile spread, and his body mirrored my slow movements.
I tugged his hair back, devouring his mouth as he eagerly returned the kiss. I rubbed against him with more intensity, feeling him moan. The sounds of his delight fueled my desire. I wanted to hear more, to make him feel so good he'd forget everything else.
My hands explored his body, gliding over his soft skin. I slid my fingers from his lower back to his butt, grabbing his cheeks as he caressed my back. I ventured lower, teasingly close to his entrance. Edward's moans deepened, and he pressed against me.
"Feels so good, love…"
"I want to touch you," I confessed, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.
I'd only touched him there once. We were totally comfortable with each other by then, but I still hesitated about being so invasive.
Edward breathed against my neck and bit the sensitive skin. I moaned, lost in the sensation, almost forgetting to ask for permission.
He pulled back, locking eyes with me.
"Touch me." His serious tone sent a thrill through me.
I sighed, seeing commitment and love in his gray eyes.
"You know I want you like crazy, right?" He nodded, and I continued, "It's maddening how much I need you. My skin feels like it's burning for you…"
Our bodies pressed together, skin sliding and creating intoxicating sounds. I closed my eyes, indulging in the moment as I brushed my fingers over his hole.
Just that light touch sent a shock through both of us, and we moaned loudly. Edward bit my shoulder, sending a shiver through me.
"Love, I want you," he whispered, desperation lacing his voice.
"I want you too," I replied, mirroring his urgency.
We ground against each other, Edward's hands digging into my hips, pulling me impossibly close.
"I'm ready…" he gasped, his cock throbbing against mine.
"Ready for what…?" I asked, my focus too locked on pleasure to process his words.
My middle finger slipped inside him, slick with water.
"Oh…" he moaned, squirming.
I pushed deeper, reveling in the intense sensation.
Edward hooked his leg around my hip, opening up to me, and I went further.
"Oh, fuck, E… you feel so fucking good inside," I blurted, my impending orgasm coiling in my core as I thrust my finger in and out of him.
"Don't stop…" He gripped my waist tighter, his breath quickening. "Keep doing it…"
"I'm too close, babe… I think I'm gonna…"
"Push harder." I complied. "Yeah, like this, just… Oooh…"
His cock throbbed against mine, his muscles contracting around my finger. I couldn't hold off.
"I'm cuming…"
"Me too…"
It became a symphony of long, loud moans that lasted minutes, leaving us both spent.
Edward held my face between his hands and kissed me softly. Then he looked into my eyes, his soul bared.
"I'm ready," he said again, steadier now.
This time, I understood.
"Are you sure?" My question was calm; I just needed to confirm.
"I'm sure I love you." His gaze locked onto mine, serious and unwavering. "My body and mind are ready. I want to do this with you…"
I nodded, resting our foreheads together. "I'm ready too."
I realized I'd been waiting for him to be sure.
Edward hugged me, and for a moment, we stood in each other's arms, acknowledging that we'd decided to take this final step in our sexual relationship.
We still had to discuss what would happen next, but for now, it was a moment to engrave that commitment in our hearts, preparing for the unforgettable step that would forge our bond.