A/N- So this is was an unexpected addition to this story. The FABULOUS risbee and coldplaywhore requested this little diddy for FGB. They were also nice enough to let me share it with all of you! A little look forward into the lives of E&B.
Thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed this. It really is my baby and I appreciate it SO much.
Must give a very special thank you to yogagal who was nice enough to beta this for me, if you don't read her story The Hood, you need to! It's an amazingly realistic high school fic that I happen to LOVE.
As usual, I don't own, simply borrow and mold for my own person amusement.
Song credits at end.
There's such a comfort in things that never change. Knowing that despite whatever whirlwind may sweep me up, some things will always be the same. Like the knotty wood of my workbench or my morning calls to my sister.
"It's just ridiculous. I mean who really expects people to wear Hammer pants? It's a complete waste of my time to try and make them look good," Emma rambles. I chuckle lightly. If one could truly hate inanimate objects, Emma would hate half the fall collection she's covering.
"Well, try to make them look not like Hammer pants?" I offer. This is so far from my expertise its not even funny. I'm trying to suppress the visual of Jessica coming in wearing said pants because she saw them in Emma's magazine.
Emma lets out a long exasperated sigh and I try not to laugh even harder. I am hardly one to mock, I've been in tears over damaged flowers before.
"I might just pawn it off on an intern and call it good. How are you?" she sighs. Her words draw me back to the task at hand, my fingers toying with the stems in front of me, trying to find the perfect placement.
"Things are good, dying down now that the big wedding rush is over," I ramble, my thoughts more on the arrangement than the question. Business has been better. So good in fact, I've thought about either getting more help or turning down jobs. Not a bad place to be.
"And Edward?" Her question brings everything into slow motion. My hands pause above a snap dragon and I readjust the phone. It's all but normal now. Edward and I have been together far longer than he and Emma ever were and there's no longer the hesitation when she says his name, no deliberate enunciation.
"He's good. They've really been kinda hard on him at the firm. Making him pay his dues I guess. But, we're happy," I answer softly. Happy is almost an understatement. Even though we hardly ever see each other, the few moments are amazing. I can do absolutely nothing, and as long as he's there it's perfect. I shake the cheesy smile off my face.
"Well, that's good I guess. I'm glad you guys are doing well," she answers. It feels rehearsed, but I know she means it. It's such a far cry from the first months, when I tried to avoid his name at all, worried she would be hurt. Time and repeated scoldings from her have changed that.
"What about you and Scott?" I ask. I'm almost certain that's the current boy's name. I hope it is, at least. The question sends her into a flurry of words. Apparently he isn't much of a dancer, a serious flaw.
I let her words soothe me, falling back into my work. Too soon she's begging off, and I hang up with the assurance that I will call her tomorrow.
Without her words the space feels empty. I fiddle with my iPod and slip the buds into my ears. The music fills me up and I set my hands to work, eager to move closer to the few hours I get with Edward at the end of the day. It's been a frantic few days, hardly more than sharing a bed.
The phone screen lights up and there's a message from Edward, no words, just a picture of an insane pile of papers. Poor guy. It's his code for letting me know he'll be home late. I shove the disappointment down and focus on the work. Maybe tomorrow we'll get our time.
Music and flowers fill my time and when it's time to call it a day, I'm in no hurry. Trudging the two blocks to our apartment, uneager to spend the night alone with a box of macaroni and cheese.
I enter the small lobby and smile at Doug, the mailman. He pauses to smile back, probably still pitying me for the weeks I waited diligently for him not so long ago. I tug one bud out of my ear in time to hear his words.
"Well hello there Bella. How is the world of flowers treating you?" he almost chirps. This man is the antithesis of all mail worker stereotypes. Even his uniform looks cheery.
"Really well Doug. You still bringing joy in the form of junk mail?" I quip. He throws his head back and laughs. A real laugh, one that shakes his whole body. Just the sound makes me smile.
"Not everyone is as excited about mail as you are Miss Bella. But I do have some genuine letters for you today. With handwritten addresses and everything," he announces proudly. He hands me a stack of letters, the envelopes all different colors, the lot held together with twine. I look at my name neatly written on the top envelope.
"You getting fancy on me Doug? Twine?" I tease, plucking at the string. He grins and eyes the bundle again, shrugging his shoulders.
"That's not my handy work. Someone put some serious thought into that," he replies easily. My eyes refocus on the stack in my hand, one finger running over the sides of the letters, marveling at the colors and quantity. At least ten. Who would even be writing me a letter?
I'm so caught up in the mystery in m hands, that I don't hear Doug leave. When I look up, the lobby is empty and the setting sun has set the room ablaze. My fingers itch to pull apart the string an tear at the paper concealing what seems to be tiny secrets, but I restrain myself. Suddenly, this seems too important a task to be had in the lobby. I need my couch. And that letter opener on my desk I've never used. Might as well make this official.
The stairs and hallways are a blur of anticipation. I clutch the bundle to my chest and settle into the couch. The romantic idea of the letter opener is, once again, tossed aside as I tug at the string and spread the rainbow of envelopes over the coffee table.
My eyes drift over each letter, taking in the varying sizes and shapes and noting the same careful printing out of my name, so nondescript. I flip a few over, looking for return addresses and find instead numbers, in ascending order, one through eleven.
My hands set to work, lining them up in order, the mystery and anticipation bubbling inside of me. By the time I reach for the first letter, my face is splitting from my grins and my hands are shaking a little. Clearly I'm a little excited.
I rip open the top and pull out a note card. The writing here is familiar, unmasked by the slanted words and looping g's.
'It all started with a song, a shared passion and a familiar melody. I never knew a mix CD could bring me to someone like you.'
The words make my smile spread further. My eyes dart over the words several times, letting them warm me. Eventually curiosity gets the best of me and I lay it neatly on the table before reaching for the next one.
No more care is given in the opening process as I rush to devour his next message.
'Yours is the first face that I saw. I think I was blind before I met you. Now I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been, but I know where I want to go.'
The words bring the familiar music to my mind and my smile wavers as I hold off the urge to cry. We had a long conversation once about the cheesiness of love songs and how there were very few that did the emotion justice. This one was our favorite.
I'm reluctant to give this card up, so I balance it on my thigh as I grab another. The blue envelope has tiny stars all over it and I chuckle wondering where he got all this stationary.
'There are a lot of things I love about you. But my favorite things are the ones you don't even realize you do. Like how you always eat the cereal bits out of Lucky Charms, first. Don't you know you're supposed to eat the marshmallows first?'
My eyes narrow slightly at his teasing. I thought he had given up on that argument. I like to save the best for last. The warmth of his words is blanketing me completely as I lay the blue card down reverently and slide the next towards me. If this is a make up for all the late nights, it is far too much.
'I guess you don't need it, I guess you don't want me to repeat it, but everything I have to give I'll give to you.'
My heart races at the words knowing their truth, even if they were borrowed from a song. I swallow and lick my lips, each note bringing the tears a little closer. It's so him to do something like this. Fits every part of who he is. Every part I have grown to know so well, and love even more.
I have the next envelope open quickly, eager to drink in more of his words.
'It was never a fairy tale, but damn if the story of us isn't a hell of a lot more entertaining. Plus, there's never bedroom time in those stories, just a happily ever after. We can have both.'
The laughter echoes around the empty apartment. Of course he would want to mention that. He may be one of the sweetest men I know, but he is a man. And he does know his way around the bedroom and make an amazing soundtrack for those moments.
I don't even pretend to spare the envelope as I rip into red paper.
'Before I open up my arms and fall losing all control, every dream inside my soul. When you kiss me on that midnight street, sweep me off my feet. Singin' ain't this life so sweet?'
I want all of these alternating songs playing around me, surrounding me with the words and emotions I know he wants me to feel. I take a shuddering breath and wish he were here. All this sweetness simply makes me crave him more. I don't know if after 18 months you're supposed to stop feeling that way, but I hope I never do.
Another envelope and I'm slowing, trying to savor it. I'm past the halfway mark and I don't ever want this to end. This tribute to our love, whatever he wanted it to be. It's filling me up and making me light.
'Even on the days when you look at me like you want me to sink into a hole for awhile, I still want to spend every moment I have with you. 'Cause I like you that much.'
My snort breaks the silence. There haven't been many times I've given him what he calls the 'curl up and die' look, but even as I unleashed it on him, I was already forgiving him. Funny thing love, it makes you soft like that.
I finger the next envelope for awhile, letting my eyes wash over the open cards in front of me. The words building, adding to one another and feeling like so much more than a simple gesture.
'Now how I remember you, how I would push my fingers through your mouth to make those muscles move, that made your voice so smooth and sweet.'
My face flushes at the lyrics, the words feeling intimate, almost licking at my skin. I lick my lips and imagine Edward here, sitting near me, just his gaze setting me on fire.
My mom used to try and tell me that sex was something you just willed to be over. I couldn't be happier that she was wrong, like with so many other things.
As I tug the next note open, I wish for just a moment that my mom could see this, could know how amazing the man who loves me is. Not that I need her approval, but I want her to be as happy for me as I am for myself.
'At the end of the day, when I trip over your shoes on the way to bed, you're my very best friend. The person I want to share all my secrets with. The one I want to be the witness of my life.'
I can feel the wet trails on my cheeks before I realize that my tears have finally won the battle. I suck in ragged breaths, no doubt look like an unattractive mess.
This is what I always wanted. When I dreamed of the person who would be my 'him', I wanted a best friend. Someone who was just as much my partner in crime as my lover.
I swallow thickly and know that all the shit we went through to get here was worth it. He is worth it. Every awkward phone call with my sister, every partial anxiety attack before a family get together. It was all such a small price to pay to have this man.
This man who over the last year and a half has become my family. Not that I could ever abandon my actual family, but this, this is a new pair, a tiny new family all its own.
The anticipation returns as I rip into yellow paper. I want to feel close to him, need his words.
'And anything to make you smile, it is my better side of you to admire. But they should never take so long, just to be over then back to another one. But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do.'
The grin on my face is so wide it hurts. The simple words express so much and make so much sense.
I reach for the final envelope, its green hue, dancing slightly as I turn it over in my hands. I'm not ready for this to end. The words and lyrics have swept me away and I want to stay adrift in him.
I'm so fixated on the paper in my hands I don't see him till he's right in front of me. I jump back a little, on hand covering my mouth. He smiles wildly at me, nudging my knees apart so he can kneel between them.
Every part of me is attuned to him, sucked into the very idea of him. His hands run up and down my legs several times before he smiles again.
"Aren't you going to open it? It is the last one after all," he chides. I swat the envelope at him and he rears back avoiding contact. There are so many things I want to say to him, show him.
Instead I tilt my body forward to press my lips to his, hoping the action will speak for me. He grins into my lips, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
"Open it," he says against my mouth. I peck his lips once more before leaning back enough to do as he asks. My eyes on his as my hands fumble to rip apart the paper.
His face is so open, honest, and full of something I can't quite place. The envelope finally falls away and I clutch the note card in my hands. Tearing my eyes away from his I read the final card.
The words don't process the first time I read them, so I read them again, and again. By the time I'm sure I know what I've read, I lift my eyes to find him grinning, his palm open offering an intricate silver band.
My eyes dart between his face and the band, my heart hammering in my chest. I reach out my hands, grasping his, feeling the ring dig into my left palm.
He leans forward into me, pressing his forehead to mine and lets his eyes slide closed.
"Say it again?" he requests. I return his smile and squeeze his hands.
There's no surprise at her answer. I had known for some time that what we had would slip effortlessly into the category of forever, but the relief was somewhat of a shock. When that word fell from her lips, something was lifted from me, a weight I didn't know I had been carrying.
I take her hand in mine, tracing the familiar lines and ridges, before sliding the ring into place. She didn't want a diamond. It was the one thing Emma was adamant about when I asked her advice. Another slightly uncomfortable moment, but it needed to be done. I needed Emma's blessing as much as Charlie's.
"You have no idea how happy I am at this exact moment," I whisper. It feels appropriate to keep my voice low, to maintain this moment as sacred, because it is. It's still hard to believe that we actually made it to this point. Things with her are so different than any other relationship I've ever been in. Every fight, every point of contention has only brought us closer.
She weaves her fingers into my hair, keeping my forehead pressed to hers and grins. My favorite expression she wears, its wide and unapologetic. My face splits into a matching smile.
"Can't be any happier than I am. There could be entire albums dedicated to this kind of happy," she breathes. The chuckle comes without thought. I rub my fingers over the ring on her finger over and over, revealing in the feel of it, the metal heating under my touch. An internal chant reminding me that this is real. That I'd finally done what I had wanted to for so long.
The first time I knew I had to marry her was during a fight. I had left one of her favorite records out on the player overnight and it had warped. She was so angry I thought she was going to turn purple. And while she tore me a new one, I knew I wanted her forever. Even the way we fight feels right.
My hands make their way up her arms and wrap around her, pulling her to me. I sigh a little at the contact, the way her softness seems to fill in all my missing pieces.
"I wish I could be cool about this and say I wasn't nervous, but I am so damn happy you said yes," I chuckle, my lips almost against hers. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and touches my lips every so slightly, I hum at the sensation.
"There wasn't the slightest chance I would have said no. Even if you hadn't written me, my now, favorite letters of all time. Even if you had asked me in front of a McDonalds, I would have said yes," she grins. And with that I press my lips over her, swallowing her last words.
I can feel her lips turn up against mine before she seals them around my top lip. We linger there for a moment, our lips pressed together, before I suck ever so gently on her bottom lip. I can taste the lip gloss she favors. The artificial berry getting in the way of what I really want to taste, her. As always she comes to life almost instantly, her hands pressing me towards her, her tongue darting out to wet my lips.
I'm sure that I should sweep her off her feet, carry her dramatically to our bed, but I can't be bothered. It doesn't matter, never matters, where it happens. It's just about her. This woman. I feel like that damn children's book. I could have her in a car, in a bed, in a shed…
Her fingers drag down my back, snapping my mind back fully into her. I kiss her more insistently, probing my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue tangles around mine, drawing out a moan in the process.
The sound fills the room around us, and kicks my need into gear. I tug at her clothing, not really caring if it ends up a little worse for the wear. All I can focus on in that I need to be close to her, to feel her completely. I have her shirt off quickly and she takes me face in her hands.
"There's no rush, I'm going to be around for a long, long time," she assures me, accenting her words with quick kisses to my parted mouth. My eyes slide closed and I envision her in all my important moments and then in every other moment as well.
Her hands tug and slide my shirt up until its bunched under my arms, I lift them willing, liking the act of her undressing me. I open my eyes when the shirt is pulled off and smile at her. She grins back and my mind is erased of all others.
All past experience, all other encounters, gone. I'm engulfed by her and our memories, the ones we've created and those yet to come. Our lips meet again, the frenzy erupting again. Her tongue, so soft and slick, against mine.
My hands reach behind her, undoing the clasp of her bra and then pulling it down and away from her. I don't need to see her to know what's there. Her body is burned into my memory, every dip, every curve.
Lips move from her mouth, over her jaw and down her neck as my hands reach to cup her breasts. A mutual sigh falls from our lips. I smile at the sound, kneading gently as I suck on her neck.
"I love you," she sighs and her words stop all movement, I pull my face away from her neck to grin at her.
"I love you too, so much," I answer, pressing my lips tenderly to hers. The words complete the circle, making the moment concrete. She takes my hands in hers and presses them back to her chest. I chuckle, loving her nonverbal pushiness, all too willing to resume.
My hand mold to the warm flesh of her chest, feeling her nipples pebble under my palms. I will never tire of feeling her respond to me, knowing her body reacts to me like this. Her head rolls back as my mouth drags down her collarbone and licks at the top of her breast.
My tongue traces the shape of her before dragging down the center of one breast to swirl around her nipple. Bella moans and I smile into her skin. I can feel her skin break out into gooseflesh as I ghost my hands over her side, settling at her hips. The skin there is so soft as I grip it, dipping one finger under the waistband of her jeans to stroke there.
Bella sighs out contentedly and I lick my way across to her other nipple. I would do this always, just to hear the noises she makes, and feel the way her body responds. Her hands find their way back into my hair, scratching my scalp and I hum against her skin. Her responding moan lights a fire in me.
Usually I would take my time, taste every inch of skin before making her arch into me as I tasted her in the most intimate of places, but today I just want her. The need to feel fused to her is coursing through me.
She lifts her hips and smiles at me as I tug her jeans and panties down in one motion. I kiss the inside of one knee and the rise of her hip as I pull myself back up to face her.
She takes my face in her hands and presses our foreheads together again, her lips so close to mine I can feel her smile.
"We're really going to do this? You sure you're not going to get sick of me?" she asks in a hushed whisper. I grin. I can't even fathom not wanting her near me all the time.
"As long as you pick up your dirty socks, I think I can handle you," I quip. She rolls her eyes and the fire ebbs for a moment until she wraps her legs around me. With a simple roll of her hips everything is ablaze again.
Another rock of her hips and I know what she wants. The joining is fluid, a coming home of sorts. Her body arches and opens to accept me and just like that everything is right in the world. She grips onto my shoulders and we start a slow build. A coming together and pulling apart that shatters the world a little with each movement.
This feeling will never get old to me, will never seem mundane. She makes these noises, little hums and moans as she gets closer, like a road map to her undoing. I chase them, seek after them, my pleasure a close afterthought.
I skim my hands down her sides, ghosting over her breasts and am rewarded with a humming sigh. My hips twist to find a better angle and she arches up at the new position, I smile and hold her there.
The look on her face as she comes undone makes my heart feel like its going to fucking burst. Her whole body tenses in pleasure and the tightness of her spurs on my release.
I roll her to her side, crushing her against me on the couch. The sheen of our bodies, molding us together. I get this forever. The grin can't be stopped.
"You know you said yes right? And you can't take it back," I warn her, still slightly out of breath. She rolls her eyes and chuckles.
"You are the one thing I never want to take back," she reassures me. I press my lips to hers, a slow lazy affirmation. It's true that it never ends or begins like you think it might, but I feel like a lucky little shit.
Thank you all again SO much!
If you're looking for something new to read, try anything by Nolebucgrl, there's a little something there for everyone!
Every other proposal note contains song lyrics here they are in order:
First Day of my Life- Bright Eyes
Shelter- Ray LaMontagne
This Year's Love- David Gray
In the Aeroplane over the Sea- Neutral Milk Hotel
No One's Gonna Love You- Band of Horses