Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
Major thanks to CunningMascara, who beta'd this for me.
I watched, enthralled, as she ran her tongue over her cracked lips again.
It was a nervous habit; she'd done it six times in the last fifteen minutes as she drummed her fingers – bitten, painted black stubs of fingernails – against the wood of the table, checked her watch impatiently, and stared at the clock or down into her empty cup.
I knew this coffee house wasn't a local jaunt of hers, as it was mine – she was innocent and naïve. I wondered why she was here; I wondered what was forcing her here against her better judgement. I knew she must have better judgement.
She'd walked in twenty-five minutes ago, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. The hand on her bag tightened – she was nervous, too aware. She looked good; she was wearing a leather imitation jacket, a baggy white vest, dark jeans and wrecked Docs. She went to the table closest to the counter, only two tables away from mine.
Tanya was on her instantly, and I didn't really listen to what they were saying, I was just so fucking focused on her smile.
Yeah, she looked good.
I'd been staring at her all this time, and her eyes had met mine a few times over her coffee cup; I wasn't sure about the look in her eyes – interest? lust? – but I knew I wanted to get to know her.
"Eddie baby, here's your coffee." Tanya dropped the dirty cup onto the stained wood of the table, smiling her black smile at me before walking away, swinging her hips.
She was a crack whore, and probably my least favourite.
Her hair was an adorable shade of blonde when I met her first, behind this coffee house, though it was a dry cleaners back then. She hadn't even touched drugs before she met A, one of Jazz's old dealers.
The more she took, the dirtier she became. She never took her makeup off, barely ever washed her hair – she was too desperate. She needed the drugs too badly. It was the only thing she thought about- hygiene and beauty went out of the window the second she got addicted. I don't think the idea had even crossed her mind before I suggested it.
"Eddie, I need drugs. For Christ's sake, I need something!"
"Buy it," I'd said simply, taking a final drag from my cigarette and discarding it, flattening it under my boot.
"Do I look like I have any fucking money?" She whined, dragging her bloody fingernails through her dirty mane. Biting her nails had become a nervous habit of hers, it still was.
"Fuck for it." I said simply, jumping onto the dumpster next to Jazz, who was busy getting high. Again.
"What... like... fuck for crack?" I remember thinking, Bless her virginal heart. She doesn't even know what a crack whore is.
"Yeah, Tan. Fuck for crack."
And once she started getting the crack, she started getting cleaner again, started looking at least fuckable if you were desperate for one. She looked even tastier when she dyed her hair, a cute chocolate brown.
Kind of like New Girl, as I'd so lovingly dubbed her, sitting in the dim light of the coffee house next to the plastic potted plant. Tanya's dyed hair was kinda like New Girl's, but I knew New Girl hadn't dyed it. She looked all natural.
But Tanya, she properly fucked it up. A had suggested she go back to blonde, so she did. And it went wrong, leaving her with this root-riddled strawberry blonde mop. Yuck.
She kept on trying to get into my pants, but dude, no. I didn't fuck crack whores who ran coffee houses.
I fucked girls who looked like New Girl.
She was real nervous, I could tell. So clearly her first time here. It looked like she was meeting someone, if she wasn't then I would have introduced myself or sent A over to her.
I mean, what kind of a good girl goes to a drug den disguised as a coffee house?
Finally, the little bell on the door rang, signalling a new customer and New Girl's head shot up so fast she musta' gotten whiplash. I turned to see who it was – who was she expecting, who had she been waiting for?
The messy blond hair was familiar, as well as the beat up leather jacket that used to be mine before he filched it. I knew this person better than I knew anyone.
Okay, maybe she wasn't waiting for him. But fuck, her eyes were shining, her tongue running over her lips again. She stood up. Oh God. Oh Fuck.
She was waiting for Jasper.
What the fuck?!
His hand hit my back as he walked past, and I frowned at him. He gave me his signature smile and inclined his head to New Girl's direction.
Oh God. Where the fuck did he find her? Please, please, let her not be a crack whore. I liked her too much for that, my dick liked her too much for that.
"Jasper," her voice came out like a croak, her throat was dry. She cleared it and smiled at him. "Jasper," she repeated, clearly this time.
"Sorry I took so long, Bells." He smiled, collapsing into the chair opposite her; she copied him. "How long you been waiting?"
"Oh, only like five minutes or something," she lied perfectly, there was nonchalance, she was casual. You didn't hear drugged up cunts lying like that – she was clean.
"Actually Jazz, she's been here for around half an hour," I called over.
The entire room went silent and Jazz laughed - but this 'Bells' he was with looked at me with wide eyes. The radio crackled on in the silence – why the fuck was Tanya playing Pink?
"Stop eavesdropping, Cullen." He called back. The murmuring that had been filling the void in the room started up again, but I didn't really care.
I was staring at her.
Bells' eyes went wider, if that was possible. "That's him?" Her voice was a whisper as she stared at her coffee cup, running her index finger around the rim.
"That's him," Jasper confirmed. "Didn't think he'd look like that?"
"Not at all..." She mumbled.
"Bella..." His voice was tender, which was kinda freaky – Jasper didn't get gentle with girls. "You don't need to get freaked out, I told you why we were meeting here."
She looked like a Bella. Beautiful. The way Jazz was acting with her was disgusting, it repulsed me. Not because he was being sweet, no. That was great, that was great with any other girl but her. I wanted her.
Fuck, I needed her.
"I know...I just didn't think he'd look like that, no problem other than that, no need for you to freak out, Jazz."
She called him Jazz.
Only three people called him Jazz, or anything else other than Jasper. His mother, Emmett, and me.
Fuck, he was whipped and he'd never told me he'd met her.
"Okay, hon. You wanna leave now?" She nodded her head vigorously, and I resisted the urge to slam my head against the table.
They were leaving.
Which meant they were fucking.
I mean, Jazz hadn't even stopped at A's table, he didn't have that bulge in his jacket pocket that told me there was a flask of Vodka in there.
So he was fucking her.
She got up – she was pretty short, maybe 5'1, 5'2 at the most, she looked like a dwarf next to Jazz's 6'3". He sauntered over to her and wrapped his arm around her. They looked real good together. That knocked my nose out of joint.
I'd never felt like this about a chick before, not once. I didn't want her to fuck Jasper, I wanted her to fuck me. I wanted her to fit into the crook of my arm. I wanted her to wait in a coffee house that she knew was blatantly a drug den for me even though she didn't take drugs.
There was so way she took drugs; she was too good for this place.
"Wait, can I go say bye to Tanya?" She asked Jasper, looking up at him. "She was real nice to me this time."
She'd met Tanya before?
Why the fuck hadn't I met her? If Tanya got to meet her, why didn't I? She'd probably met Emmett, too.
"Sure baby, I'll be with Edward."
Thank fuck. That boy had some answering to do.
She nodded, her brown eyes ghosting over me for a second before she ducked under his arm and walked over to where Tanya stood behind the counter.
Jazz walked over to me cautiously, he knew I was pissed. He always knew how I felt – it started the first time he smoked weed, he just started spouting stuff about how I felt, because he 'could feel it too'.
"What the fuck, Jazz?" I growled as he approached my table.
"Sorry, man." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I knew you'd want to fuck her... and it's just... I really like her. Like, loads. I mean, I'm... I think I love her."
"Oh." How could I want her if he loved her? "I can tell."
"Yeah... I kinda made her wait for me here so you could meet her... but I ...I get it if you don't wanna."
"I do." I blurted, leaning forward. I wanted her, I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to know her face; I wanted to know her taste and her tongue. I wanted every part of her.
And he knew that.
"Edward... please, don't. I like her, I mean...please man. Don't fuck her, don't mess her up. She's completely clean. She's good for me."
I knew she'd be clean. I knew she was too good for this place. Just like me.
She'd be good for me, too.
I wanted her fucking bad.
And if I told Jazz I wanted her this badly, I'd never get anywhere near her.
"Sure, man. You know I wouldn't fuck her if you feel like that about her."
"Promise?" His face was tortured – he must like her so much.
"Yeah, 'course man. You know I wouldn't."
She walked over to the table then, putting her little hands on his slumped shoulders. He immediately straightened up and looked at her. She was smiling.
"Hello, Edward." She said quietly. There was a look in her eyes that I saw a lot, I knew what it was even though I didn't want to. She was scared of me.
"Hey, Bella." I tried to be real nice, so she'd think I was alright.
It wasn't like I killed good people, only the bad ones.
Which kinda made me bad, too, didn't it?
"Bell, we better go now. We'll see you, Ed," Jazz nodded to me, his eyes guarded.
They walked out of the door hand in hand, and I knew that I was fucked.
Jasper was a good friend of mine; he was my best friend. I'd take a bullet for him, I'd do anything for the guy.
But I had to have Bella.
Okay, so I got a bit bored, this'll probably be a one shot forever.