Gesture me home

Teeny Tiny Twilight

I sighed, opening the top button to my blouse. Finally.

Psychiatric work was not only my deepest love in life, but also my specialty. To be blunt—which I usually was—There was a quirk in my brain that made it so I did not identify well with people. I had all the subconscious actions that everyone carried. Normal right? I was consciously aware of them. Not normal. It didn't matter if it was my gesture, or someone else's.

Maybe the easiest was to explain the world through my eyes was to imagine everyone had maniacal allergies. Every unconsciously driven gesture was as obvious to me as sneezing. I'm sure I could stop my own, but also like sneezing, it was just painful to try.

A single gesture, something as simple as a smile could really say a thousand words. And I listened to all of them. As much as I loved being good at what I did, it was embarrassing to have people who didn't know me as a person, only knowing my title and my books, gawking at me like I was a great prodigy. Mostly because the moment they started stuttering, nervous in my presence, I blushed and returned the awkwardness.

It was amazing I had friends at all.

Angela, one of my best friends at my office, usually working with children in her soft voice and patient understanding said it was because I didn't walk around like I was the great goddess of head tilting was exactly why I had the friends I did.

That wasn't always true, some people lost interest in me when I didn't look or act the part of a young prodigy genius.

I had just come from the office after meeting one such person. It always hurt more than it should to see the respect turn into something less as they realized I was just Bella Swan. No grand title, no gold ribbon tied around my neck, or an award held high in my hands. Just Bella.

Right now, Just Bella, really needed a drink after a long day.

"You look like you could use a drink." A velvety voice beside me echoed my thought, and I turned to see a young—more around my age really, but working with older individuals all day makes everyone under forty look young—with short reddish-brown hair that looked like he'd just woken up. His face was nice, very good looking actually with a sharp jaw and a mouth that looked both capable of an easy smile or a thoughtful frown.

At the moment, his lips were pulled into a half smirk, and he kept eye contact for more than five seconds. His clothes looked thoughtfully put together, his pelvis was pointed in my direction with his legs slightly apart.

This guy was looking to get laid.

"Bar tender," the kid said, tapping his hand onto the counter to get his attention. With his other hand, he hooked his thumb into his pocket, trying to get my attention so I would look at his...assetts.

Jake leaned onto the counter, long black hair bound by a rubber band at the nape of his neck. "What can I get you for?" I rolled my eyes, but neither of them saw. Jacobs' lips quirked fractionally, already knowing my expression anyways. He loved playing the stereotypical bartender. It filled some great purpose in his life.

The new guy who's name I still wasn't sure of (But who's intentions were already clear) grinned that same smile that said on one side of his face I'm a good guy, and I want to make you happy while the other side of his face was darker, hinting at how he intended to make me happy.

Sorry kid, it's not happening.

"A drink for the lovely lady." He said, still grinning at me.

Jake raised an eyebrow at me, "The usual then?"

I smiled thankfully at him, glad he hadn't said my name in front of his boy. "Yes, Please." Jacob grinned and turned around, getting my drink ready. The drink was light, just something to do when I came and talked with Jake after work. Tonight I was glad the drink wasn't hard; I didn't trust getting drunk around this guy.

The new boy seemed a little intimidated that I knew the bar tender, and I watched his toes turn in slightly towards each other. A sign of insecurity. The new kid sized Jake up, decided he was either better looking, or had a better chance of landing me and shrugged our exchange off. "I'm Edward." He smiled, extending his hand.

Palm down, never a good sign. He was actively pushing away connection on a more meaningful level. The deepest conversation I'd get out of him was discussing grave dimensions. I grimaced, "I don't sleep with people I've just met in a bar."

Edward's head moved forward a little like couldn't believe I'd just said that. I blushed and looked away.

Subtle, I was not.

Edward's toes turned to face each other, a gesture of insecurity. "Oh, yeah. That's cool. No, I just thought you were kind of cute, and I guess we all have varying standards." he laughed suddenly, " Am I still talking?" His toes turned in more obviously now, and his chin tilted down in the slightest action of admitting he was not alpha male.

I saw Jake wince for Edward out of the corner of my eye. Edward rubbed the back of his neck. This was one of my favourite gestures. It was the instinctive gesture to cover your most important body parts—the head and neck—when intimidated, or scared.

Despite the fact that he had had this coming to him, I felt bad. Especially since I was more aware of his embarrassment than anyone else could be. His day seemed to be turning out as wonderfully as mine.

"That women over there seems interested though, if you...still plan to end the night in a similar fashion." I was purposely speaking in a formal way to make him feel as if I were more detached from the entire situation, and hopefully to make him more comfortable. The women I nodded to, was not only interested, but a new divorcé. She would extend her left hand before a man, when she was obviously right handed. She was not looking for a relationship, she was looking for a new body for a new start.

Edward looked up at the woman. The cursory gesture looked more like he had already decided he wasn't interested before he even looked, and he looked away without much interest though the woman was much prettier than I was. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass." He mumbled, getting up, paying for my drink. His feet dragged slightly as he walked out of the bar.

I bowed my head in apology to Jacob. I knew Jake so well that it was not an instinctive reaction to judge his gestures too deeply. It is like knowing someone with a lisp so well you stop noticing it. In return, Jake didn't seem to care when my social etiquette was not at its finest. "Sorry," I mumbled anyways, "I think I just ran your customer off."

Jake shrugged, "He tipped lousy anyways."


The next day, I was sitting in a conversation with Jake. Apparently the new kid had come back after I had left looking for me for another try.

Jake was just starting to shake his head 'no', when I asked in my sevearest tone if he'd told him anything about me, and then someone behind me caught his eye. "Your friend is back."

I glanced over my shoulder, wondering who from my office would have come here after work. I was walking distance from my house in case I wasn't fit to drive, though Jake usually let me sleep on the couch in the back room. This was a little out of the way of my co-workers.

As that last thought settled in, my gut started to sink with a nervous fluttering. And strangely, my breathing increased though I only moved my neck. Hardly vigorous activity.

Edward, the boy from last night was leaning against a side counter where Jake usually set up snacks like chips, or when it was really busy, we made some kind of appetizer. Jake currently had meatballs covered in honey garlic sauce in his fridge back home I had helped him make for Friday.

Edward had been staring at the back of my head, running his hand through his hair in a grooming gesture, subconsciously trying to look good for me. I could not see the floor because of all the people around, but I was sure his toes would be turned in. Once he realized he had been caught, he grinned his half smirk for confidence, and walked over to me with a confident alpha male gate.

His head was bowed slightly when he reached me. Dogs did this, it was a way of showing they knew their place. "Hey," he rubbed the back of his neck, but his eyes stayed for an uncomfortably long time on mine. I counted the seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six…he looked at Jake. "Can I get a beer? And a drink to apologize to this lovely lady for yesterday."

He smiled to show he was going to be good, but his six seconds stare meant one of two things. He wanted to kill me or have sex. They way his pelvis was turned towards me assured me of the later. Translated, he was going to be good, but continue to imagine fucking me while we talked.


I looked away awkwardly, "You really don't have to." I mumbled, trying to shoo him without hurting his feelings too badly. And then I wanted to smack myself. Men responded to tone, and everything about my voice had said meekness. Easy to conquer. I had been right before, his toes, which had been turned towards each other shifted to face me.

Nicely done. The voice that should have been my subconscious, but I was absolutely aware of whispered. Strangely, though the words suggested sarcasm, it sounded honest.

He caught my eye again, moving a stool closer to mine and sitting down. He was closer than an arm's length, unintentionally invading my personal space. Automatically I shifted my chair a little away. His body leaned unconsciously closer to me. "I never learned your name yesterday."

My body's automatic response to attention from a man with a symmetrical face, and an alpha male attitude was to fiddle with things around my neck and wrist. Drawing his attention to those, areas were a sign of attraction, and my hand of its own accord, nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ears. Edward's eyes flickered to my neck, and he wet his lips. Gaze hungry.

I tried to be polite when all I wanted to do was push him off his bar stool and see if he got the message then. "Funny how that happens." I murmured into the drink he bought me before taking an unnecessarily large swallow. I was watching my good day slip away from me. He was still waiting—still not getting the hint—and I extended my hand, realising only when he clasped my hand that my palm had been up. Funny, my usual habit was to show palm down. "Bella." I admitted, too distracted by my hand to give a phoney name. Like Cindy lou-who

And then the most amazing thing happened. Edward gestured towards me with his palm up in return after letting my hand go. "That's a beautiful name." he said gently.

Jake leaned across the counter towards Edward, popping the cap off the brand beer Edward had nodded to. "It actually means beautiful in Italian. And French is similar." He winked at a startled Edward.

I snatched the damp towel from off his shoulder, spun it so it was twisted around itself, and then snapped it at him. Jake laughed, stealing it back from me. "You suck, Jake." I mumbled, ireful. Jake grinned and winked. We had come so far. Jake used to be absolutely smitten with me until one drunken night had proved he loved in the only way he could. He wanted to take care of me, and I could take care of myself.

Edward, smiled, and his eyes flickered down my body in a practiced look that lasted half a second. "It suits you." He agreed.

I sighed, tracing my pinkie finger around the rim of the glass, "look…it's been a bit of a long day. Do you mind if I just talk with my friend?" I reached into my purse and pulled out the same amount of money as the drink had cost. "I'll pay you back for the drink."

Edward hesitated, and then shook his head with a disappointed smile. "No, I'm good. It was worth it anyways." He smiled once more and stood up, about to leave.

Something fell out of his pocket, and my hand shot out instinctively to—amazingly—catch it before it hit the floor. Pride at this newly accomplished feat made me smile. "Hey," I called him, not even looking at what was in my hand.

Edward turned back—shoulders and everything—and then his eyes brightened at what he saw in my hands and he walked back towards me. He was standing far too close for my conscious liking, but my traitorous hand touched where my blouse met my neck.

I looked at what was in my hand with horror. Edward pressed himself closer against me, "Changed your mind about new men?" he wondered huskily, touching the condom in my hand. And then he grinned, laughing quietly, "hey, I have the exact same…brand." He finished the last word dully, looking at the magnum Trojan.

It was his turn to look at me in horror, and then he winced slightly and reached into his front pockets, finding them empty. "Oh please God." He prayed under his breath, checking his back pockets. He would not meet my eye. "I dropped that?"


"I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking the condom from me and putting it into his pocket. He took a step back from me. His toes turned slightly into each other, back and head bowed slightly in surrender of his dominance. He looked up at me, embarrassed. "I've made an ass of myself two days in a row. It's a new record." He tried to smile.

I cheered half-heartedly for him, trying to make a comfortable joke of it. "I can beat your record easy. I make myself look less than graceful almost everyday of my life."

Jacob leaned across the table again, only catching this last part of the conversation. "It's true; she's never developed social skills. I have talked to monkeys with more etiquette."

I glared, "Do you talk to yourself in the mirror often Jake?"

Jake raised his eyebrows in mock offense, "Them's fightin' words."

I took another sip, "Let me finish my drink and then I'll kick your ass."

Edward chuckled softly, his hand touching the small of my back to get my attention. Men did this to show not only attraction but also possessiveness, and if he touched me another four times in the same minute, I'd need to hose him down.

I shifted to face him, trying to shake his hand off in the same movement. "Yes?"

He smiled, his hand moving to the very edge of my knee. "Do you mind if I just finish my drink, and then I'll go off and let you do your own thing?" he put his car keys on the table, already deciding this was his territory, claiming it so. Just like lions, he was securing the most desirable place where he could easily find mates and food.

I shrugged, turning towards Jake again, shaking his hand from my knee. "I can't tell you where to sit."

He touched the back of my elbow. I looked at the clock on the wall. Three times in less than thirty seconds. Not good. "But I'm not asking you where you want me to sit. I'm asking if you would mind my choice."

I stood up and grabbed my purse, finishing my drink. "No, go ahead. I'm leaving anyways."

Edward's face fell a little, and he reached for my hand. "Nice seeing you again, Bella." His lips rose at the name, the words falling like a musical verse. He brought my hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of my hand so gently it felt like the flutter of moth wings.

Heat raced up my arms like electricity and burned in my face. "Y-you too." I managed to stutter, and then turned and walked quickly to the door. As I turned I saw the clock on the wall. He had touched me five times in forty-five seconds.

Not good. Not good. Not good. Was my mantra on the way home.

I came in the next day wearily. Today was Friday, I tried to console myself, this place was always packed on Friday, and with more women to choose from, he wouldn't even notice me. If he was even here. Maybe I had managed to shake him last night.

Probably not, but it didn't hurt to hope. I made my way to the end of the bar where Jake poured all the drinks. This was where I sat of Fridays so I could both be his company without being out of—and conveniently still in—the way.

Jake was working with little Seth tonight, running around getting people drinks and chatting for tips. Jake saw me, and went to start to make my drink. "No, I need something good and hard tonight." I grumbled.

Jacob looked surprised for a moment, "Your friend had the same idea." He nodded towards the Karaoke stand where Edward was giving me a dark look.

Oh please no. Not tonight. He started up a Lead Zeppelin song. Just as Dazed and confused started, Jacob handed me my drink with a pitying expression.

There had been a call from the police on a case today, and though this was the most exciting and rewarding part of the job, today it had been hell. Once the reporters couldn't squeeze anything from the police, they turned on me for information.

Wanted a women, never bargained for you. Lots of people talk and few of them know, soul of a woman was created below.

Not only do I always stutter in front of cameras, but today someone's leg had gotten in front of me, and not only taken me down, but an innocent bystander who had the misfortune of walking by me in that moment.

You hurt and abused tellin all of your lies, run around sweet baby, lord how they hypnotize. Sweet little baby, I don't know where you've been, Gonna love you baby, here I come again.

It's not like I could even give them any details if I had wanted to. I'd rather deal with some pushy reporters than have the chief of police after me. The one I often had to deal with was nothing like Charlie. He was very loud, very obnoxious, and was the first person to make sure everyone knew he carried authority.

Try to love you baby, but you push me away.

If this song said baby one more time, I was going to stab someone with a miniature umbrella. See if people want my opinion on murder then. Unbelievably, Edward came down from the raised dance floor-ish place, eyes locked on his target—me—and then tossed his keys onto the space beside me, claiming it his before moving his chair closer to me.

"I've figure you out." He whispered drunkenly in my ear. I grimaced at his proximity, and leaned away. His hand, though no demanding, touched the small of my back and leaned in closer, nearly in my lap. "You're a cock tease. You want me to chase you, don't you? You love the attention." He leaned away a little, his lips pulled smugly up. "The fact you keep coming back over and over to see me proves that." He straightened, and I stopped breathing in hard liquor off his breath.

I looked down at what I always wore here. I was just from work, so I had a blouse that had the first button undone for comfort. Something like how a man might loosen his tie. It was always hot in phoenix, so it had short sleeves, and breathed but was a darker blue. My attempt to look more professional by copycatting male suit colours. I wore long comfortable tailored pants that I loved, if only because of the sounds they made when I walked.

My eyes watered at how mean he could have been—and worse than that—he was making me second guess what I was wearing, wondering if it was true. I looked around for Jake to secure my place again as Dr. Isabella Swan, not the Bar Bella he was accusing me of being.

I swallowed the self-conscious lump in my throat, and raised my chin fractionally. A gesture of trying to become taller, and so more intimidating, showing I was not weak. Also my personal version of 'go fuck yourself'. I grabbed my purse closer to myself, wanting to keep my hands full so I didn't end up leaving him to chew on his teeth for the rest of the night.

"Just so you know, it's not your sparkling conversation that I come here for, Jake happens to be one of my best friends. Believe it or not, some people actually enjoy winding down after work with good friends and a drink." My lips were trembling with anger, and then I noticed the scene I was making, my words had come out just a little too loud between songs, and Jake was pleading with only his eyes that I don't start something. Not tonight. I blushed and looked down. I knew he already had enough on his plate. "But I guess I don't get that luxury tonight."

I stood up and left Jake a twenty, nearly a fifteen dollar tip, and walked crisply to the door, fighting tears. I was not going to be good company anyways. This cock-tease might as well go home and soak in my slutty bubble bath like the whore I was.

I was almost to the door when someone—and If held at gun point, I'm pretty sure I'd already be able to say his name—grabbed my wrist, his middle finger over my pulse point. "Wait, I—"

I turned around and not even Jake's anxious look could stop me now. My aim and my height were a little off, but I still managed to get him squarely in the jaw. He stumbled back into a man who was talking with a pretty woman in a short dress. He turned, and angrily pushed Edward back this way. He ended up pushing us both against the wall, his body crushed against mine.

Not his fault, I tried to remember, he just happens to have luck as terrible as mine. Nevertheless, I was still livid. I pushed him away, and turned on my heel, stalking out the door. Or one of them. The door I had walked out of was made of safety glass—Jake was tired of replacing the glass twice a month—and could lead out the second door that lead out, or too the outside area where people laughed in the clear night air, lanterns making the already brightly coloured drinks glow like magical scientific experiments.

I hesitated a moment, feeling the air, refreshingly cool and clean against my skin, and I wondered if I really had to leave just yet. Could I not just hide on the open patio until Edward left or was thrown out? Guiltily, I knew I preferred the later.

I leaned against the brick beside the window, hidden from view while I tried to decide. Instead of deciding though, I was still angrily coming up with sharp witty comebacks that I wish I could have said immediately.

Beside my deserted patch of desolate sun bleached brick, I heard a hollowed thudding against the window over the shuddering beats of the music, having started up again after Edward's performance. My eyes stung at the reminder of the suddenness of his unmerited attack. I turned back against the window instinctively, only to see Edward. His eyes were closed, one hand on the window, leaving marks for Jake to clean up later at closing time.

His eyes opened, and the green was move vivid from the bright, happy patio lanterns than the sweet-sour lime drinks I had observed earlier. 'I'm sorry' he mouthed through the window, eyes intensely apologetic. A red mark on his chin proudly displayed my right hook.

I considered returning a rude gesture that no one would be able to mistake. Instead, I thought better of it and made my decision.

I was going home.

I skipped the bar on the way home on Saturday and Sunday, too cowardly to face him again. In the wake of my hurt and anger at Edward, small gestures that he had made the night before that had gone over my head at the time started to haunt me.

How he had automatically smoothed his shirt out after being pushed, trying to groom himself to impress me.

How when I had blushed, his shoulders had rolled, a protective gesture to indicate he wanted to hold me. Because he thought I was cute. I bristled at that. I meant to be angry, I wanted to show him that he couldn't just hurt me and expect me to take it. He thought I was as adorable as a kitten.

The way his head had been turned slightly to the right, showing his neck in a display of trust and vulnerability. An unconscious gesture to say that he considered me in his care, offering the exposed piece of his throat to me. The vulnerability was making him more approachable.

I hadn't seen Edward at the bar before, and I hoped my absence would be enough to make him move on to his next pick-up place. I desperately wished I could have said I hoped he'd move on soon—I missed my nights with Jake, closing up together and laughing about one incident or another—but my nerves were always on end when I thought of going back to the bar.

I almost hoped I might see him. If only to smooth things over so I didn't have an absolute stranger hating me.

I sighed on Monday, trying to concentrate on my notes while a pleasant little twisting anxiousness was turning my stomach into knots. I was going back to the bar. I would try to smooth things over; tell him more plainly that I was not interested in a hook-up.

Maybe not a hook-up, my mind whispered conspiratorially, but you know you're tired of understanding without being understood. Of seeing without being seen, and caring without being cared for.

My heart ached. "Yes." I admitted to the lonely room, my voice dangerously close to a sob, "But I want to be loved the morning after too."

The voice continued, ignoring me. Late at night, he might lean his forehead against yours, and you might smile. You of all people know how deep that gesture goes, how much trust and love is in something so simple.

I wiped silent tears from my eyes, shuffling papers around with irate energy. "What the hell do you know, your just my mind." The whisper didn't answer and I got up to go see my next patient, all the while wondering if I shouldn't get checked out myself.

We were getting the end of hurricane Bill, and as I ran into the bar from my car, desperately seeking shelter from the rain, I knew I'd be dryer if I'd asked someone to throw buckets of water at me. I sighed, and looked down at my thin shirt, glad it was dark, but nervous that the outline of my bra might be seen. I already knew men initially looked at a women's waist and breasts, it was how they judged if you were a healthy mate or not.

I desperately hoped none looked to see if I fit the job description.

Obviously, I called it upon myself.

I had just grabbed my drink from Jake, about to look around to see if Edward had really moved on, or if I could try to talk to him without showing him my left hook. Edward appeared out of nowhere, half yelling the ending of a teasing joke to a buddy and ran smack-dab into me. I should have been more specific when I asked not to be noticed.

Edward froze, mid-conversation, jaw still open in the middle of forming the word he had been about to say. "Oh my god." He whispered, eye wide.

I looked down at my top and sighed, letting my startled arms drop to my sides, my once full glass now emptied onto my shirt. An alcohol bath wasn't so soothing as I thought it sounded. Oh well, with the rain pouring like it was, all I had to do was standout side for three seconds and I'd be nicely washed and clean again.

Edward put his hand to his mouth in the most horrified look I had ever seen a person wear other than in the movies. It was somewhat funny to see it. "Bella...oh my god, Bella I'm so sorry, I didn't...oh my god." Edward's expression crumbled, and I thought he might cry. I instinctively raised a hand to do the whole 'oh no, honey, don't cry, everything is fine' instead he spun and threw his hands in the air instead. Running his hands through his hair agitatedly before turning back to me with an expression that balanced on the precarious edge of incredibly sorrowful and feverish incredulity.

He grabbed my shoulders, and I let out a small squeak of surprise. Personal space invasion. He pulled me so that all I would have to do it extend my middle finger, and I would be touching his —dry, damn him—shirt. "Please," he begged, "I just want to talk to you, just once and leave a good impression. That's all I want, just one good meeting with you."

"That's not quite what you're currently accomplishing."

Edward let go of me immediately, taking a step away with a deep breath. "Sorry." He murmured nervously, and actually bowed a little to me.

I smiled at him gently, "It's fine, I'm soaked to the bone anyways."

He grinned a huge relieved crooked smile, but it was his whole face that shone, not the two faced one I'd come to expect. "Thank you. Here," he hesitated, "can I take you into one of the bathrooms to dry your shirt?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah," he sighed, "That's what I'm thinking. But not intending."

I laughed a little, "Alright, I'll see if we can use Jake's bathroom." I grinned playfully at him "or were you looking for a free pass into the girls bathroom?"

"So I can see you girls squeal and run around because I caught you straightening your hair? Though I've heard your bathrooms do smell better..."

I sighed and talked to Jake, he laughed openly at Edward who bowed a little, shoving his hands in his pockets with a sheepish smile. "Sure, Bells." Jake agreed. Just as I was going into the backroom with Edward close behind me he called out, loud enough for a few people to turn their heads towards us, "Bella, just stop playing in the damn water."

A few eyebrows were raised at us, and I blushed madly. Edward did his shoulder roll again, looking like he desperately wanted to reach out and cuddle a kitten. His eyes even took on the large, aww look. I glared, threatening to bring out the claws if he got any ideas.

He chuckled, walking into the bathroom that used to be open to the public, before Jake decided he really hated having guys from the bar watch him while he relieved himself. The bathroom had horribly painted stalls, but there were only two stalls and four urinals.

Edward looked around, noticed some magazines inside one of the stalls, and burst into laughter. I sighed and opted for the second stall. I unbuttoned my blouse, and Edward promptly threw his own shirt over the stall. I caught it, a little surprised by the gesture. "What's this for?"

"It's a piece of fabric with four holes, two for your arms, one for your head and the last for your torso. Some people wear it. Most people call it a shirt thought."

I scowled at the blue chipped paint that had long leaked it's colour into grey, aiming in the general direction of his voice. "You suck, too." I grumbled under my breath.


I blushed, "My luck, too." I called more loudly, hurriedly pulling the shirt over my head. The collar caught on my bun, and pulled it loose, making strands fall in my face, and my hair fall uncomfortably loose. I sighed and opened the door.

Edward saw the ponytail half hanging onto my head, and he pursed his lips to keep from laughing. Raising his fist to his mouth to try and hide the slow escaping smile. Embarrassed, I pulled the ponytail out of my hair completely, shaking out the kinks from having it in all day.

Edward stopped laughing—or trying not to laugh—immediately. He just stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. Usually people moved their eyes every three seconds, and when interested, stared you straight in the eye for six. Ten was the comfortable if the distance was farther appart. I might have waved a hand in front of his face, but there was something mesmerizing in how green his eyes were. How the bronze in his hair shone a little in the light, making his penetrating eyes all the more noticeable.

Fourteen Mississippi...fifteen Mississippi...sixteen Mississippi....

One of us needed to move, I could feel my hands shaking. My eyes stung, dry from not blinking often enough, and I wondered wearily if I had been hypnotized. Finally Edward moved. Closer to me.

I swallowed thickly, and a whisper of a voice cheered in the back of my mind, barely audible over my thundering heartbeat. Instantly, my first reaction was to try and diffuse the tension. Sexual or otherwise.

I laughed breathlessly, looking up at his face. Absolutely serious, eyes still on mine. He was close enough that I could smell him, feel the heat between the short distance between our bodies. My head nearly had to fall back onto my shoulders to look comfortably at him. "How's the weather up there?" I wondered in weak voice.

Edward's expression changed minimally, he continued to stare solemnly at me, though his mouth turned up into an ersatz smile. "Cold." He murmured quietly.

My eyebrows lifted, because, despite his attempt to return with a joke, his solemn answer felt too truthful. Obviously seeing this as well, his eyes flickered embarrassed away for a moment, before something akin to gravity, pulled them back to my eyes. He gave me a half hearted smile, and half a shrug.

Alone, this gesture was simple to understand. It said I can't help it. Alone, that gesture was simple enough to let pass without much consideration either.

But the gesture wasn't alone.

One of his shoulders had lifted higher than the other, for one, the opposite of his strongest hand. In the same moment, his head had tilted into that same direction. He was asking me to come to him. To the left side of his body.

He was drawing me towards his heart.

It didn't take a rocket scientist—or rather a psychologist—to explain what that meant. I love you. And in the moment that the meaning started the echo through my head—I love you—too loudly, I moved towards him. The moment I touched his bare chest—over his heart, feeling the unsteady pulsing under my hand—the words in my mind made sense, because they were not echoes. I love you. It had only taken the shock of touching his skin to clear my head.

I love you.

They were answers.

I tried to tell you that. The voice whispered in my mind, mocking in how close it sounded to laugher. And I knew I was mocking myself, and I knew I deserved it. If you had stopped analysing his gestures long enough to notice your own, you would have seen all the signs.

The irony was, I had fallen into love at first sight.

Startled, I took a step back, though not from the shock of touching him. Edward's eyes followed me, and something was changed about them. Still cautious and solemn, but warmer. Stronger.

He moved closer to me. "I'm going to kiss you." At his words, a small tremble carried across his shoulders, and his eyes caught fire. "You have five seconds to stop me." He whispered, leaning in closer to my suddenly hot face.

I counted the seconds off in my head. Five, his hands cradled my face with his hands, holding my head like the most delicate, and gorgeous treasure. Four, one hand slid into my hair, caressing the locks, soaking up the warmth at the back of my neck. Three, he slowly lowered his face to mine, eyes sliding closed. Two, my eyes fluttered closed, my lips parting slightly, and I felt his nose touch mine for a moment, aligning out features in a tender gesture. One, his lips brushed delicately against mine, and then he hesitated a moment longer, giving me that extra second.

I didn't move.

His lips brushed against mine, hesitatingly slowly. I shivered, my hands touching his bare shoulders, warmth burning through my palms. The moment he got a concrete feeling that I wanted him, his lips became more there.

Slowly, his hand tightened at the back of my head, slowly increasing force until he was holding my face against his, his other hand at the small of my back, bowing my body against his. He was so warm. So real and there, and though I'd already felt safe, I felt indestructible in these arms. My fingers ran through the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck.

Edward pulled away suddenly, and I stumbled forward. I hadn't even realised how much weight I had been leaning against him until he wasn't there. Edward tried to keep his solemn expression, but slowly, a grin pulled his lips up. " this our first date?"

With my heart still pounding in my ears, blood heating my cheeks and breath ragged though the kiss had been perhaps one of the softest touches I had ever experienced, I smiled back. "Only if Friday is our second."

Edward gave me a cocked smile, his head tilting slightly left, his shoulder raising towards it. Gesturing me home.

A/N: Hey!! Remember me? Yeah, the one who never updates. I've just recently dragged myself out of the mountain that is my homework, and I've also had the great misfortune of a little thing called writers block. I decided to throw this out there, see what happens. I promise, I'm working on the next Baby sitting chapter, I just needed something else to think about for just a second.

P.S. if anyone is interested, I'll turn this into a lemony two shot. ^_^ thanks for reading and putting up with my extremely slow writing.