Author: A. Zinc-Senkahai PM
Edward needs more than just Bella's blood. He needs her in general. How will he unleash this whole new complication of their alreadytoocomplicated relationship?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,679 - Reviews: 151 - Favs: 126 - Follows: 193 - Updated: 07-26-07 - Published: 12-10-06 - id: 3282994
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
A/N: Sorry. Writing once again for flamers. On her website, Stephenie Meyer says specifically that she never mentioned Bella's looks in the books because she wanted it to be easier for the reader to step into her shoes. In her mind, Bella has wavy dark brown, red-tinted hair and brown eyes. You all may have the same image in your heads. But the book leaves it open to interpretation, and I am entitled to my own. I picture Bella with wavy medium brown hair with red hints in sunlight and blue-green eyes. Brown eyes do not enhance character unless you are, as Stephenie Meyer was, trying to make the character seem as normal as possible only to reveal there are special qualities in said character. However, in this story, Bella needs to be portrayed as an amazing girl with the ability to dazzle her lover in the simplest of ways. Therefore, it is better to give her a set of eyes that would have more appeal. Sorry, and thank you for allowing this to consume space and time.
A/N: And sorry I realized a little late that movie titles are supposed to be italicized… And I didn't check for errors. It's four o'clock in the fucking morning, and I'm not in the mood for editting. I trust Spell Check on this one.
Italics: thought or emphasis
Bold: dream or flashback
.: † : † : † :.
Chapter Two: Temptation
I watched Bella grow more and more eager as the school year came to a slow halt. It was mid-May, and more than ever she wanted to talk about our future. My jaw still clenched at the idea of her turning immortal…but I knew it was inevitable. Especially now that she was looking forward to it. I couldn't stand to see disappointment in her eyes, and that's all I would see for the rest of our days together if I didn't turn her.
I never would understand why someone like Bella—wonderful, sweet, adorable, beautiful, intuitive, intelligent Bella—could want to be with me…and I won't even go into my adjectives. I suppose I shouldn't complain. I know I can't let her go anyway. I'm a selfish creature.
I smiled at her now, feeling her gaze on me. I pulled her closer to me, and she, contented, returned her attention to the movie she was watching. (She and only she because I could never pay attention to anything while she was around.) She seemed more inclined to watch movies now. I guess because she wouldn't get to enjoy Charlie's collection much longer. He had a lot of the old, romantic classics she loved.
Like the one we were watching now, Moulin Rouge. It was a sappy movie I never really liked. Didn't make sense to me how an aspiring author would so easily give himself to a slut. But it doesn't really matter what I thought about it. I wasn't the one watching it. I was watching my own mistress.
We lay on the couch in Charlie's living room, the television angled towards us. I was half-lying, half-sitting along the couch with Bella pulled up against me. My eyes surfed over every character of her face and body. When the romantic scenes started, I, as I always did, began to whisper the lines of the male in her ear. She smiled gently, having expected it, but I still heard her heart quicken.
Charlie was home early. When I heard his thoughts of heading home, it was only four o'clock. We were only a forth or so through the movie when he opened the door. Bella looked at me a little wistfully as I sat up, but kept my hand on hers in a more formal gesture of affection. He checked the living room as I knew he always did before he would call to Bella. This room was, after all, where Bella spent most of her free time—studying or watching movies; she didn't have any books she hadn't memorized already and she really needed to study with the line of classes we were in nowadays.
So Charlie wasn't surprised to find her in the living room watching another movie. Quite frankly, he wasn't surprised to see me with her either. Inevitably, I read his thoughts: Doesn't he ever go home I had to keep myself from chuckling. Yes, I answered him soundlessly. I go home when your daughter's asleep.
"Hi, Dad," Bella called from her focus on the movie as her father hung up his jacket and belt.
"Good afternoon, Charlie," I greeted politely. Charlie faked a smile.
"Afternoon, Bells, Edward," he said promptly before sitting down in the recliner. He watched Bella watch the movie, unaware that I was watching him. A slight smile twitched at his lips. Upon reading his thoughts, I learned that Bella's love for classics was something else she shared with her mother. That man really was still in love with Renée, I swear.
The way Charlie thought about Bella's mother always made me wonder how I was going to feel if and when Bella decided she wanted a real life, which was still what I was hoping for. I've discovered from past experiences with her that I never know how crazy I am about her until it comes time to prove it. So I don't know what I would do if she left me. I just know it'd be something really, really stupid.
I knew there was something else Charlie was smiling about as well, but I didn't want to think about it. Despite his disapproval of the cause, he was happy she was back to normal.
Alice had given me a firm chewing out, giving me every detail she knew of about Bella's bout with inhumanly torturous depression. Thinking about it now made my eyes dim with guilt and pain. Pain caused by her pain. I could not, never could, and never would be able to stand the sheer idea of seeing her in so much pain.
And though I hated the boy beyond the natural vampire-werewolf hate, I had to thank Jacob for holding her in one piece for me. She expressed to me sometimes how guilty she felt for using him to fill what she called "the hole in her chest," though her happiness was only a shadow of what she knew it could be. With me. But I felt like I had used him more than she had. I owed him, for he'd kept my Bella alive. I was sure that without him, she wouldn't have survived as long as she did. I was as sure as she was about that. And, admittedly, even when I left I'd doubted her strength to handle it. I'm only glad for Jacob…in spite of myself. I hated his over-friendly affection for her. I may be a vampire, worn into submissive patience over time, but I was a very jealous boyfriend.
A small smile alighted my lips. Fiancé, I corrected myself.
The ring of the telephone made Bella jump and called me out of my reverie. Bella got up automatically with a command for Charlie to sit back down. He smiled gratefully at her as she passed him and took the phone from the receiver.
"Hello?" she answered. There was a brief pause, in which she frowned. "It's for you, Dad." Charlie frowned as he got up. I supposed he mouthed 'Who is it?' because she mouthed 'The station' in return. With a sigh, he took the phone from her.
"Chief Swan," he answered as Bella returned to my side. I immediately folded my hand over hers again, bringing a smile to her lips and a stutter to her heart. It still amazed me how she wasn't used to my touch so much that her heart didn't react. It made me grim to think what would happen if I really touched her… I shook that thought immediately. I was having a good day with my hunger, and I wasn't going to ruin it.
A distraction was provided when Charlie re-entered the room. He looked agitated as he put his belt back on and grabbed his raincoat automatically. Bella frowned.
"Where are you going, Dad?" she asked in undisguised irritation. She didn't like it when the station called him in after hours. Stupid question, considering she knew who called, but he knew what she meant.
"Teenage boys vandalized the Quickie Mart," he answered. I could tell Bella wanted to press the matter, but Charlie continued. "I'll be back for dinner," he promised.
When I was sure he'd left, I let my body sink back down to my half-lying position and pulled her against me again. She smiled again, and her heart beat under my arm. My lips returned to press against her head.
Ironic that the romantic part started right as Charlie left. Don't you hate coincidence?
We weren't very far into that scene before she had turned slightly, shyly offering her lips to mine. They received her gratefully, my hand rising to hold her face in place. I could hear and feel her heart race as she shifted closer to me. She behaved herself for a few seconds, and I rewarded her with a deeper, less-strained kiss. I'd just hunted, and ever since my return, I'd had an unbelievable control over my thirst.
I wasn't, however, prepared for her abrupt reaction. She jumped in the kiss so energetically, and I was so lost in it, that we fell off the couch. I caught her, of course…on top of me.
It didn't seem to discourage her, but I was torn. I could feel an erection building—quickly—but breaking the kiss now would certainly cause her to notice. With quick calculations hindered by the musk of the kiss, I decided to try to hold out until she was breathless. Usually that didn't take long.
What a perfect time for her to become a better kisser. She held out longer than I thought or planned on enduring. Why was she so Hell-bound on this all of a sudden? I barely had the mind to wonder. My pride was the only thing protesting this; everything else in me was on fire with passion.
As if to add fuel to said fire, she parted her lips. She was suddenly timid as her tongue flitted along my lips.
I snapped. I flipped her on bottom, miraculously holding enough self-control as to not break her fragile body in half. I forced her tongue back into her mouth with my own and let my tongue enter her mouth. The warmth was intoxicating, and it took every bit of self-control I had not to take her right then and there.
Then, as if shocked, she broke the kiss and stared at me with peculiar eyes. I panted softly, still too rattled for my eyes to show anything but love and passion.
"Did you just moan?" she asked incredulously. I stared at her, uncomprehending. Did I? I didn't notice. Dear God, I hoped not!
"What?" I asked with unusual flatness.
"You moaned." It wasn't a question this time. I didn't know what to say, or what to do. But I had enough mind to know that she would think I did.
I chuckled without humor and got off of her. I picked her up and set her back on my lap. As I would have done if I were in my right mind on this occasion, I began her lecture, which I could tell she was prepared for. We'd had long talks about limits.
"You know why you can't use your tongue," I said simply, not in the right mood to be angry. She found that…odd, I think. Damn, it was so frustrating that I couldn't read her thoughts.
"You used yours," she pointed out.
"You don't have poison teeth," I retorted. "Now hush and watch the rest of the movie." She seemed unwilling to believe I would drop it so easily. When she didn't stop staring, I looked at her. "We've had this discussion before, and I'm not particularly in a mind to have it again."
She grinned, seeing behind my façade easily. I sighed in resignation—but, of course, only resigning to all that she knew of. My sole focus since the kiss ended was to retain my erection. So far, I was struggling, but it wasn't particularly noticeable. I gave her her favorite smile, and she seemed satisfied to return to the movie.
.: † : † : † :.
Took me forever to gather up something to write in this chapter, obviously. I know that so far it's not exactly eventful, but this story's focused on one thing, and if I didn't draw it out so much, it would be quite a short story. So be patient, smut lovers! Reviews are appreciated.