Bella
The dream starts the same way it always does. A low, keening sound echoes from the darkness. It's warm, and she can feel wafting heat as she ambles, not steady on her feet. The sound gets louder with each step, and she shouts as she walks faster, shouting for something, at something. Over and over, her feet thud against the ground. It's getting hotter, hotter.
The starless sky is dark and continuous. Bella runs faster, faster. She's screaming. Screaming at someone, for someone.
Light approaches, quick on her heels, catching up to her faltering pace.
And then everything is bright and burning.
With a jolt, Bella sits upright, gasping for air. She looks at the alarm clock beside her bed—
2:30am. It's not the most convenient time to get up on a day off, but sleep seems more of a chore than a necessity.
She peers out of her bedroom window at the lamppost across the street. Its light glints off the roof of her car, glaring at her on nights like this: like a lighthouse beckoning her anywhere else but here.
Bella gets dressed, grabs her car keys and purse, and quietly pads down the hallway, leaving a note on Marnie's door.
She hears Mr. McCarthy's resounding, muffled snores from his office once downstairs.
She thought of waking him and telling him to sleep in an actual bed for once, but he would probably ask her why she was up so late.
And that wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Not now.
The cold, dewy morning hit her like a ton of bricks, and she blew into her hands to keep them warm on her short walk to the buggy.
She backed out of the driveway smoothly, heading towards nowhere in particular. Everything blended together in the early morning blue, green against green. She meanders for a while, until soft daylight breaks, pulling her towards her familiar routine.
She pulls into the parking lot of Cheney's, decided that eating her weight in pancakes would fill the empty pit her nightmares were gouging into her.
Cheney's, a small mom-and-pop diner with the kind of charm that felt like a warm blanket on cold nights, was her safe haven on days like this. It sat on it's lonesome, on the outskirts of town, most of it's customers being truck drivers and a few dedicated locals.
Bella opted for her usual seat at the counter, and Mike greeted her with a sluggish nod and a half-hearted wave of his spatula.
"Hey, hey. You're out pretty early, Bells."
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Angela bustling around, wiping down tabletops, and Bella smiled.
"Yeah, just wanted to get away from the house for a bit."
She turned on her stool to get a better look at her, but Angla was already walking towards the other side of the counter.
"How much coffee have you had since you got here?" Bella asked, giggling.
"Oh, honey. Way too much. Ben and the girls were making some sort of rocket thingy in the backyard this afternoon, made an entire racket, so I barely slept after getting back from the hospital."
Bella thought of Angela's twin girls, Olive and Grace, and smiled eaarnestly.
"And how did that go?" She asked with mock enthusiasm.
"Messy. Apparently, there was shaving cream involved." Angela rolled her eyes, stacking dirty plates onto a silver tray to take to the back.
"Damn, I'm surprised Ben didn't cover for you. I'm revoking his best husband of my best friend card." Bella joked.
Angela laughed lightly, grabbing a wet rag from a sanitation bucket to wipe the counter.
"Oh, don't worry, he knows. And he's doing the books tonight when I get home, so I'm good. The truck driver's rush wasn't bad last night. So, Mr. Isaac Newton and I over there had it covered."
Mike's head bobbed up and down, and it took Bella a minute to realize he wasn't nodding at Angela's comment but falling in and out of sleep. He looked terribly exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and his posture less upright than usual.
"Awe, look. He's practicing his theory of gravity." Angela muttered.
"Hey, Mike! Want a break?" she yelled pointedly, snapping her fingers.
"Urh, what?" he mumbled, head jerking up.
"Why did you even agree to work so late today? You know Ben and I could handle night shift by ourselves. I'd just get Jessica to watch the girls."
He shrugged, grimacing.
"I'm still saving up for a bike for Sarah. If I work an extra shift at the shop, I'll be dead on my feet this weekend, but here I have you to do everything for me so—"
"So, you're leaning on my impeccable work ethic and inability to fire my goddaughter's daddy?"
Angela shook her head and tsked.
"You're a dirty dog, old friend." She waved her hand in a flourish, dismissing him.
"Take a fucking break." She said pointedly.
"Angie!" He gasped, playful and dramatic.
"Language."
She stuck her middle finger up at him, and he cackled at her disposition.
"There's a customer on the way in, by the way." He mumbled that last part, tripping over his feet and catching himself as he backed up towards the door.
Bella and Angela burst out laughing as he disappeared from view of the cook window.
The bell above the door chimed, and Angela whipped her head towards it.
A tall figure appeared in the doorway, coppery hair damp from the light rain just starting outside. He was dressed like he'd just come from a camping trip, hiking boots and a rain jacket that had seen better days. He also looked exhausted, but who wouldn't this time of morning.
"Good morn—"
Angela slapped the counter hard, mouth agape.
"Well, I'll be damned! Edward Cullen?"
She blurted out, coming around the counter to get a better look at the guy, who was now backing away from her, ever so slightly. Almost as if he didn't recognize her and needed to fully take her in.
Bella's head snapped towards Angela, eyes wide as the surname used registered in her mind. The Cullens. She knew of them but not much about them. The wealthy couple lived with their daughter out in the woods, and most of her knowledge of the two women of the family was slight in passing. Or from Angela, and mostly, she just talked about Dr. Cullen. None of them ventured into town much.
"Complete outcasts. Even Dr. Cullen is a little bit of a wacko,"
Someone else's words, not her own.
She felt uneasy about gawking at a stranger, and she knew she would if they made eye contact, so she focused on the countertop in front of her, listening intently to their conversation.
"How have you been? Haven't seen you around here since—"
He intercepted, walking towards the counter to greet her fully.
"I'm. . . hanging in there." The phrase sounded unnatural coming from his mouth, as if he was unsure if it was true. His smile was tight, cautious.
His eyes focused on Bella, but only for a flicker of a second, and Angela smiled her signature wide smile as she looked between them—not the one she faked for customers, a genuine one.
He cleared his throat, turning his head away from them both.
"How are you?"
The distraction of his question pulled her attention to only him.
"Pretty good. You know, I work at the hospital with Carlisle now."
They both nodded simultaneously. As he sat down, his eyes traveled to the scenery, observing the diner.
"Carlisle might have mentioned it once or twice." He said, his voice sounding far off. Then, like a flash, something snapped into action.
He gave her the most charming smile, head tilted. But something was off; nothing reached his eyes.
Eyes so dark you could lose your soul in them.
"Just so you know, you're his favorite employee. He talks about you quite often." He said, with a warmness that he lacked up until a minute ago.
And then his eyes moved back to Bella, who was tracing patterns onto the countertop, stiff and quite unnerved by the presence beside her.
Edward propped his elbow on the counter, head leaning into his hand. Turning slightly to face Bella, he addressed her for the first time.
"And who might you be?" His voice light as he asked.
Bella felt her hair stand on end, and her skin chilled. She kept her same position, never taking her eyes off the counter. His voice was sickly sweet, like saccharine.
It made a part of Bella want to crawl inside herself, and another part want to draw nearer out of curiosity.
"Oh, how rude of me. Edward, this is Bella. Bella, Edward. I think I've mentioned him to you at least once. We went to school together, and obviously, I work for his father now."
Bella looked at him, trying hard to calm her rapidly beating heart. She had to get it together.
Having a panic attack for no reason in a diner at four in the morning., how fun.
His gaze was intense and unreadable. He looked her over carefully, examining her. He only looked away when Angela cleared her throat.
"What can I get you, Edward?"
Angela asked and then shot Bella a knowing look, as if to say, "I already know what you want."
"Coffee. Black." He said quickly, smirking at Angela.
She looked between the two of them with an oddly amused demeanor.
"Ok, Coming right up."
She walked to the back with a wink in Bella's direction; Bella had to fight hard not to roll her eyes. As usual, Angela was reading the situation wrong.
An awkward silence was all she left in her absence, and Bella fidgeted on the stool, trying to find a semblance of comfort. Her heart had calmed down, at least.
She didn't feel like conversing with Edward, not with how on edge he made her feel.
Nevertheless, psyching herself out of her feelings, she took a deep breath.
"Early morning or late night?" She asked.
He didn't miss a beat. His eyes snapped over to Bella again, and her heart jolted.
"Always a late night." He said with a smirk, trailing his eyes down her body. It didn't feel like he was checking her out, but it was invasive nonetheless. She pulled her jacket closed as his eyes trailed up to her neck.
"I'm guessing you're having an early morning." He said confidently. Bella nodded, looking over to see if Angela was in sight. She wasn't. That made her even more uncomfortable.
"You're not from Washington, are you?" He said bluntly; it didn't feel like a question.
Bella tensed, and Edward kept his gaze steady on her, waiting patiently for a response to his non-question.
"I've lived here a short while." She said, voice unintentionally brusque.
He leaned in, arm still propped on the counter.
"Hmm," He paused, silence stretching between them.
"And how has Forks treated you so far?"
The question felt heavy, but she wasn't sure why.
She fidgeted, glancing at the door while still clenching her jacket. The fabric felt heavier now, almost like a barrier between them, though it did little to stop the chill that crept over her skin.
"Forks is . . . quiet."
Edward smirked, eyes drawing down to her hands. Her chipped blue nail polish made her self-conscious for some reason. She hid them under the counter.
"Quiet, yes. Not much happens in Forks."
"Right, pretty much just rain and coffee." She gestured behind the counter with a fake laugh, trying to break the inescapable tension.
There was a crash from the back of house, and they both snapped to attention, Edward more so than Bella. There was suddenly the creak and whooshing of a heavy door opening, then wind and light rain.
"Angie, you good?" Mike called out.
"All good! Just a mug." Angela yelled.
The door closed again.
"I'd say there's more than that," Edward whispered, drumming his fingers against the marble countertop.
What was that supposed to mean?
What was it about this guy that made her want to shrink into herself? She'd have to get over it if they ran in the same circles.
She looked at him then, directly in his dark eyes.
He leaned in slightly as if daring her to challenge him on his statement, but his eyes held no malice, just . . . blankness—like he already knew how she would answer.
"Not for me." She breathed out, her tone certain and even.
"Well, well, well. Look what we've got here!" Angela cheered, coming around the counter with a stack of pancakes balanced in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
"A stack of pancakes for my sweetie short-stack." She sat the pancakes in front of Bella with a content sigh, the smell of syrupy goodness wafting in the air.
Bella reddened at her comment.
"And a café noir for tall, dark, and handsome."
Bella blushed at Angela's flirtatious tease; she never understood how Ben dealt with her overly friendly nature with people.
"Thanks, Ang," Bella whispered, readying her fork for the biggest bite she could take. Angela leaned over to Edward, crossing her arms over the counter.
"So, how long are you in town?" She asked, her voice holding a gentle note. They both looked to Edward, an appraising look from Angela and a curious one from Bella.
"For as long as I can stand it." He replied. He seemed more open now, his eyes unsure.
Angela smiled that broad smile again.
"Well, we're glad to have you back. Don't be a stranger. You know Ben's going to freak when I tell him—"
"No," he said suddenly, quickly.
"No, I'll come by and see him, but I'd rather all of Forks not know by nightfall."
Angela cocked her head, a blank expression passing over her face.
"Right." She quipped. There was something sour in her eyes for a second.
"Sorry. You know what I mean." He said, drumming his fingers over the counter again.
A nervous habit?
There was a pregnant pause, a cold chill in the air. His fingers drummed the counter again in a patterned rhythm.
Bella's decision to break the silence was more instinct than deliberate thought.
"Do you play piano, Edward?" His head snapped towards her, but he didn't answer, just quirked an eyebrow.
"It's just . . . my mom plays. Your hands look like you play something. Maybe I'm wrong."
"Oh, Edward plays really well. At least, I've heard." Angela muttered. Then, she covered her mouth as if she'd let out some top secret of his.
"I used to," he said, his voice sharp.
A shadow passed over Edward's face. Clearly, he wasn't eager to talk about himself, and Bella regretted bringing it up.
"I don't anymore."
He was back to being unreadable again, his mood shifting like clockwork.
He looked at Angela again, smiling politely, apologizingly. She was pardoned; at least, that's what it looked like to Bella.
He took a sip from his coffee. Then, one more . . .
"I think I'll take the check,"
He was already reaching for his wallet as he stood.
"Bella's as well." He directed, nodding once in her direction but keeping his focus on the task at hand.
Her body tensed again, and she felt annoyance redden her ears.
Who orders a cup of coffee, takes a single draw, and then starts paying other people's tabs?
"I'll pay my own bill, thanks." She said, zipping up her coat and reaching for her purse, handshaking. Something was really off about this man.
His gaze was focused. He reached out his hand, touching hers lightly—reassuringly. It felt so familiar—ice against fire.
Bella didn't need reassurance.
I need to get out of here, she thought.
"I said I'll pay it." She snapped, pulling away from him.
He pulled back immediately, folding his hands into his pockets.
"I didn't mean to offend—"
"Oh, come on, now." Angela chimed in, waving her hands.
"You're both being ridiculous. It's on the house."
She came around the counter and hugged Bella from behind, kissing her cheek lightly.
Edward quietly stuck a folded bill under his mug and was almost out the door before Angela could say anything more.
"Edward, wai—"
Angela sighed, chewing her bottom lip so as not to wince.
"What's his problem?" Bella whispered as the doorbell jingled, signaling his absence.
"Bella, don't be like that." Angela cooed, patting her shoulder.
"He's. . . had a rough life. And he's pretty old-fashioned. He meant no harm."
"I –"
Bella couldn't put her feelings into words. She ran her fingers over her hand, where he touched her.
"He seems pretty controlling." She stated.
Angela made a face like she was trying to find a way to disagree. There was a long pause.
"He is protective of himself." She finally settled on drawing out each word.
"What exactly does he need to protect himself from?" Bella asked, confusion overtaking her. It wasn't wholly a question for Angela; it was something she often asked of herself, too.
Now, she was asking the barely touched coffee mug beside her.
"If you're old friends, you'd think he'd at least stay long enough to finish the coffee you broke a mug over. Or to ask for a to-go cup."
"I don't know. . . when we were in school, he was less guarded, but . . ." She hesitated.
"It's not my story to tell." She decided, shrugging. She smirked, giving Bella the once over.
"Besides, I think he likes you," Angela added casually, turning to restock a napkin holder.
"Ha!" Bella snorted, picking at her nail polish.
"I doubt it, but either way, I'm not interested." She deadpanned, digging into her forgotten pancakes in hopes of ending this doomed conversation.
"He likes you," Angela said gently.
"He wanted to pay for your pancakes that were obviously on the house. He knows I'd never let you pay—" She rambled.
"And why is that?" Bella inquired, tilting her head to the side. It was true that Angela barely let her pay when she was on shift.
Angela stilled, wide-eyed; like, is that a real question?
Bella countered with the tilt of an eyebrow.
"Because you're so cute, and I'm a good friend." Angela stuck her tongue out at her.
She was obviously avoiding the actual question.
Bella followed suit, scrunching her nose as she mimicked her. A serious look mists Angela's eyes, though her smile stays cocky, assured.
"He likes you. And trust me, that means something. Edward's always been quite . . . reserved with women, I guess you could say."
"Let's just drop it, my pancakes are getting cold," Bella sighed. Blush crept over her face again as she thought of Edward's strangely guarded eyes, dark as obsidian.
Those eyes stayed there, lingering in her mind. Why did it feel like they were searching for something? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she stabbed at her pancakes, willing the memory away.
"Besides, I'm sure we won't see each other again. If he's just visiting, he doesn't seem too eager to stick around."
Angela's smile softened, a knowing glint in her eyes as she tucked a stray napkin into its holder.
"We'll see about that," she said quietly, almost to herself.