Can't stand me, beside me
Kid you not, your kiss sure killed me.
'Beneath The Surface', Kings of Leon
. . . . . . . .
EdwardPOV – 16 years old
"Fucking Bella!"
I growled, burrowing back into my pillow. I felt around in front of me, my eyes still closed, pushing roughly when my hand made contact with her legs.
"Mmmm?" she questioned, she was obviously still far off in dreamland. It made me want to smack her. But I wouldn't, not yet…
If she wasn't careful though…
I settled back into the covers, taking myself back into the dream I was just having… There were girls. Naked ones. Lots of them. It was a good dream…
Thwack.
"FUCKING BELLA!"
I shot up into a sitting position, rubbing my nose furiously, willing my eyes not to water. I pulled my hand away, checking for blood. There was none. Thankfully for her. I grimaced at her face, she was still blissfully asleep.
But not for long….
I grabbed the offending foot, the same one that had just made contact with my face, and yanked the blanket back. I shoved her. Hard. I smiled to myself as she made the most satisfying sound: Something that started off as a squeal, but morphed into a groan as she hit the ground.
She sat up, but I could only see the top of her wild, brown-haired head. It was a long fall.
"What the hell, Edward?!" she shrieked, her hands slapping the wood floor around her, a petulant show of frustration.
I shrugged, pulling her side of the covers over me, turning away from her.
"Hey...," I mumbled, "You asked for it. You know where your bed is."
I waved an arm above my head, pointing somewhere in the vicinity of the pull-out couch that sat virtually pristine and unused in the corner.
"You know I hate that thing!" she said, standing up.
"Not my problem…" I mumbled.
She growled at me, picking her pillow up off of the floor.
"…And what do you think you're doing?" I asked her, gritting my teeth as I felt the covers lift beside me.
"Going back to bed. It's Sunday…"
I yanked the covers back toward me, bunching them against my chest out of her reach, childishly.
"Go sleep on your bed," I groaned.
"That's not my bed," she said icily, tugging at the comforter, trying to finagle her way back into the bed," That's a sofa pretending to be a bed… It's not the same."
"Yeah," I said, growing more frustrated as I realized my face was still throbbing, "I'm pretty sure that your bed is located behind the second door on the left past the stairs at 2456 Oak Meadow Way."
The tugging stopped and heard the familiar popping of her jaw.
She only ever made that sound when she clenched her teeth. She only ever clenched her teeth when she was trying not to swear. She was only ever trying not to swear when she was really pissed off. And she was only ever really pissed off when I provoked her.
I rolled over, watching amused as she whipped around the room, furious.
She never was a morning person.
"Edward Cullen…" she ground out, grabbing a sweater out of my closet.
"You are such…"
She stopped, looking around confused.
"Where are my shoes?"
I rolled my eyes and waved a hand lazily as I propped myself up on an elbow," By the door. They're always by a door."
"I'm staring at the door, Edward! The are not by the door…"
"Not that door, Bella. Bathroom door," I sighed, trying to figure how long I should let her work herself up before stopping her.
"Right," she said, padding across the hardwood floor to the adjacent bathroom, "You are such an…"
"Go on… Say it," I said willing her speech forward with a beckoning hand, watching her fumble around my room.
"ASSHOLE!" she screamed, pushing her wild hair from her face angrily.
"Okay," I said rolling over, lifting up her side of the covers, "Now that you have that out of your system… Come on back."
I closed my eyes hoping for at least another two or three hours, but just as I was about to fade back into dreamland, I noticed that her side of the bed was curiously still. I opened one eye to look for her. She was still standing in the same spot in the middle of my room, one shoe on, her hands on her hips and an expectant look on her face.
"Go on…" she said, "Apologize."
I groaned, pulling my pillow over my head, rolling onto my stomach.
"Mmmph…" I said into my mattress.
"What was that?" she asked, though I heard her toss her shoe back into the corner," I'm not sure I heard you…"
She came to my side and I let her yank the pillow off of my head.
"Sorry," I said as more a threat than a genuine apology.
The way she smacked the back of my head with the pillow was her acceptance and I felt the mattress sink to the side of me.
I felt her warm breath on the back of my calves and I rolled my eyes.
"I have no desire to get kicked in the face again, Bella."
"Well… I don't want to take up any of your precious space," she said as she scooted to the furthest corner of the bed, putting as much distance between the two of us as possible.
I didn't like the faint tinge of sadness in her voice. She was always so damn sensitive. I sat up, pulling the covers off of the both of us.
She didn't move. She was facing away from me, curled up protectively into a little ball. I hurt her feelings. Again.
"Bella," I sighed, "You know I didn't mean it."
"Yeah, I know," she said curtly.
I tugged at the hem of her pajama bottoms," Come on… I already said I'm sorry."
"Yeah."
She pulled her leg away from me, the flannel material sliding quickly out of my fingers.
"How long have we been best friends, Bella?" I asked pulling my legs up under me to sit cross-legged, balling the comforter in my lap, knowing that she'd want a way to hide.
I hated it when she did that.
She didn't answer, but the tight ball of her body unfurled just a little.
"Beeeeeella," I sang, "Come on… How long have been best friends?"
She shrugged. I wanted to laugh. It looked odd considering she was on her side, still half-curled into a ball.
"9 years," she said timidly, her chin tucked into her chest.
"What was that, Bella?" I asked again," I don't think I heard you."
"9 years, okay!" she yelped, pushing herself up into a sitting position to mirror mine, "You know that! So why don't you just tell me what your point is."
I pulled out the ends of the blanket, offering her the corner," And when have I ever kicked you out of my room and meant it?"
She took the corner begrudgingly, her lips still set in a pout, she shrugged and looked away.
I was already forgiven.
"What was that?" I teased her, settling back into the bed, pulling my half of the comforter over me.
"Never!" she said forcefully, her side of the mattress sinking again.
"Exactly," I said, closing my eyes, "Bella… You've been my best friend for 9 years and even when you piss me off, even when you insist on sneaking into my bed when you have a perfectly good two thousand dollar pull-out sleeper, even when you kick me in the face… Night after night after night after ni---"
"--- Get to the point, Edward!" she cut in.
I sank into the pillowtop of the mattress, silently thanking Carlisle for his decision to let Bella do all the shopping.
"The point is," I said honestly, "Is that even though you're ridiculously too sensitive…Even though you have the most disgusting taste in music… Even though your morning breath could melt the paint off a car—Oof!" I rubbed over the spot in my stomach where she kicked me, choosing not to push my luck today.
" What I'm saying, Bella," I stressed her name to make a point, "Is that even though, sometimes, you bug the shit out of me and make my life absolutely miserable…I promise that you'll always be my best friend… That I'll always love you… That there'll never be a time when you're not welcome… And if that means I have to subject myself to a few kicks in the face every now and then… So be it."
I listened to her silence, knowing her response before she said it.
"Thanks Edward… And you too…"
"I know, Bella, I know… Now, would you please switch it up? I know that my face would be unnaturally gorgeous even with a black eye, but let's not tempt fate, okay?"
"You're an arrogant prick…"
"And you're my best friend…So will you just shut up so we can go back to sleep?"
I felt her pillow fly up from the foot of her bed and a second later the cold morning air slapped against my bare arms as she lifted the covers. She settled in, tugging the comforter in her direction, leaving a safe valley of space between us. And I was grateful for it, because I didn't want to touch her either… Touching her during the day was one thing, we were past discomfort or awkward nerves, but touching her in her sleep? Well, that was just… Gross.
I heard her breathing even out a second later and mine responded in kind. I smiled as I drifted off, hoping for particularly lewd dreams, trying like hell to ignore the girl in my bed…
…………………………………..
BellaPOV – Present
I don't know how I got here.
How at 27, my life was so thoroughly fucked up.
How at 27, I've lost my home…
My job…
My fiancé…
My inspiration…
My hopes and dreams…
And worst of all, my best friend.
My best friend who pitied me enough to give me my first kiss.
My best friend, who held my hair back when I puked after drinking for the first time.
My best friend, who took me to the prom when no one else would.
My best friend, who cried for me when my Mom died.
My best friend, who I cried for when his Mom left.
The one person I loved…
... and hated …
….more than anyone else in this fucked up world.
My best friend.
The love of my life.
How did I- how did we- get here?
……………………………
A/N:
I'm trying something different than what I'm used to. I'd love to hear what you think, of course. This'll be the first and last time that I ask. You can leave a comment, good or bad, if you feel so inclined. It is all our birthright as autonomous beings, is it not?
If you've read and reviewed me before, Welcome back.
If you haven't, Welcome for the first time.
Thank you for visiting, I'll try not to suck real hard.
Audeamus-Amor