|We did that
Author: EvelynGrace PM
Two strangers escaping the pressure of their respective families, plus a bar and lots of alcohol, plus stupid drunk sex equals: a Baby. General humour and fluff with a little bit of everything else.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Family - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 10 - Words: 7,823 - Reviews: 167 - Favs: 153 - Follows: 382 - Updated: 03-16-13 - Published: 12-29-12 - id: 8851598
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, and no copyright is intended.
The town was small. It was the type of town that suffocates you. It was the type of town that you spend your whole life trying to get out of. And yet, I was walking right into the centre of it with no idea what I'd find or when I'd leave.
Jackson gurgled against my chest; his noises reminding me of why I was here. Why I needed to come here.
My feet slowed to a stop outside the only café in town. It had Cullen's Café & Bakery written on the sign above the door. This is where the lady at the local post office said he'd be.
The door of the tiny café seemed so daunting; I didn't want to walk through it. My chest was tight and breathing was difficult.
It was one night, just one. I didn't even know his last name until two weeks ago.
I looked down into the eyes that, no matter how much I tried to deny, were slowly turning green, emerald. The same colour as his.
He blinked groggily, having slept in the car the whole way here. Baby boy was completely unaware of what was happening.
I was so scared and he didn't have a care in the world. I was thankful for that.
Toughen the fuck up Bella Swan. You have to go in there sometime.
I breathed deep for a second and then exhaled.
And then with a push and the ding of a bell, I was in.
...the floorboards were polished; I knew this because I was staring at my feet. Maybe if I stared long enough, I'd forget where I was.
Stop being ridiculous.
Cringing at my inner monologue and its honesty, I looked up and around. The Café was almost empty; just the way I wanted it to be. I'd timed it so I arrived ten minutes before closing time. I didn't want an audience when I told Edward Cullen, a man that I spent one night ranting drunkenly with before having sex in the bed of his hotel room, that the baby in my arms was our son.