Here are the last 3 outtakes I've written so far, all in Edward's POV, all for fun. None of it has been beta'd, so please forgive any mistakes. If you reviewed all the Doctor's Orders chapters then you may have already seen them.
Hope you enjoy! xo
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight
Chapter 4 monopoly scene in EPOV:
Bella's face is turning twenty shades of red. I'm not sure if she's going to cry or pass out or both.
"I'm not talking off my shirt," she eventually says. She crosses both arms over her chest in defiance. And my head is spinning, because I'm simultaneously relieved and disappointed.
I should just want her to take her shirt off. I do want her to take it off. And yet I don't want everyone here to see her shirtless.
Selfishly, I don't want anyone to see her except for me.
And it's strange. Everything is strange.
I must give her a funny look, because she suddenly leans towards me. "What?" she hisses defensively. "You already own like ninety percent of the houses in the stupid game."
A bra is no different from a bikini, right? And it would make the game more interesting…
I'm not sure why I even care so much.
"We own them, Bella." I try to be convincing. "And we're going for domination. Once we get that property we'll be able to wipe out Jasper and Alice in no time."
She purses her lips, and I'm pretty sure she's going to tell me to fuck off or something. But she's been drinking all night and I'm suddenly wondering just how sober she is.
She leans towards me again. "You owe me if I do this," she whispers, and while her words hit my ears, my eyes lock with Newton's across the room. He's wide-eyed and expectant, like he knows what's about to happen, and the thought makes my stomach roll. It makes me want to lunge at him from across the room or else fling my body in front of Bella's so that I can act as a human shield.
She's oblivious, of course. She effortlessly rips off her shirt and throws it at Emmett, who's catcalling and carrying on in the most obnoxious way.
Her eyes are heavy. She's tipsy. And I try really hard to keep my gaze there, but it falls south of its own accord. It takes in her body – her full breasts and small waist – and I literally have to force myself to look away.
My jeans are a little tighter. Not good.
This was a bad, bad idea.
"What the fuck, dude?" Emmett suddenly bellows. "You look like you've never seen a pair of tits before."
My head snaps up to see Mike fidgeting on the couch, looking embarrassed.
"What, man? I wasn't doing anything." But his red face betrays his words.
I've never cared for Newton, though I've never hated him. But I suddenly find myself wanting to inflict bodily harm to the man, no matter how irrational the feeling may be. No matter how crazy it would make me seem.
But the feeling is just that: irrational. I have no claim on Bella. I don't even know for certain whether she likes me or is just putting up with me, and we haven't known each other long enough for it to really matter.
And then I catch her checking me out, and the rolling feeling in my stomach is replaced with something else. Something lighter. Something that feels…good.
I stealthily lean towards her. "Like what you see?" I murmur, and I realize how insanely close we're sitting to be wearing such little clothing.
Bella flushes at having been caught. "Like what you see? I saw you checking out the tatas."
My eyes unconsciously drop to said tatas again, and I'm once again forcing myself to look away. The last thing I want is to look like Mike, though there's now an image of her chest burned into my brain that's welcome and likely to never leave.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.
EPOV outtake of their first kiss from chapter 6:
I step closer to Bella; when she turns around and sees me she gasps, jumping back in alarm.
"Oh!" she exclaims, her hand clutching at her chest. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and startled. My gaze instantly drops to her lips as I wonder, once again, what it would feel like to have them pressed against my own. I've been observing her all night - the way she laughs, smiles, and blushes; the way her nose crinkles in distaste when she sees or hears something she doesn't like. I'm not sure what it is about her, but I've craved her presence ever since the fateful day she stood up to me at the hospital. It seems nothing draws a man's attention like steadfast, unwavering opposition.
I move a little closer, waiting for her to back away, but she holds her position. Her gaze never shifts from my own.
"I'm sorry," I finally say, and her face pulls into a frown.
Taking a risk, I lean forward, softly pressing my lips against hers. I don't miss the way her body tenses in surprise at my bold decision. We're touching for only a brief moment before I pull away, fearful of a dramatic face-slap or a good cursing. But neither comes. Her dark eyes search mine, then fall to my lips, and suddenly we're drawn together, kissing once again. Each gentle touch is more forceful than the last as her hand comes forward to twist almost painfully in my hair. Emboldened, I press her body hard against the wall, bringing our chests flush together. Her hands claw at me, pulling me closer, and I thrill in knowing that she wants this just as much as I do.
Her lips eventually open to mine, our tongues colliding forcefully. I feel her breathe into my mouth as we lose ourselves in one another. But then she suddenly pushes against my chest, urging me to pull away. I only pull back enough to look into her eyes, anxious to know what she must be feeling.
Her expression is tortured, but a few seconds later she's pulling my face to hers for another light kiss. She just as quickly pushes me away again, her movements gentle but sure.
"What's wrong?" I ask, breathless. She closes her eyes and slowly shakes her head.
"I don't know." Taking a deep breath, she rests her head against the wall. I try to give her the time she needs to sort herself out, but her reaction makes me nervous. I'm worried she's going to pull away - to claim that this was a mistake while insisting she never wanted to go out with me to begin with.
"I'm not sure I can do this," she finally whispers.
I'm think I know what she means, but I ask anyway. "Do what?"
"This," she says, and I see the fear deep inside her eyes. She doesn't know what she's doing, and she's afraid to let me in. I wish more than anything that she would just trust me, and understand that the way we feel right now is a good thing.
"What?" I ask again, urging her to reveal these fears. I want to know exactly what she's thinking. "Kissing?"
"No. I mean…yes. I mean…I'm not ready for this." She gestures between us. "The whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. The fighting, the relationship, the commitment. I just got out of a relationship about a month ago. I haven't been single in years. I actually…I can't ever remember being single." She chuckles humorlessly, her expression weary.
I never stopped to think about a past boyfriend. Is this why she moved so far away? To get over someone? I step away from her, sighing quietly, and pray that it's not such a complicated matter. Perhaps she just wants to breathe again – I can fully appreciate the way it felt to be single after my long, disastrous relationship with Tori. It was one argument after another, one emotional turmoil after the next, and the final break up was like a sweet relief.
But of course, that was months ago. I haven't had a real interest in anyone in a while, and it only seems fitting that the one girl I'm attracted to is the one who insists on making herself emotionally unavailable.
I try to lighten the mood with humor. "Well, in my defense, I never asked you to be my girlfriend," I joke.
She doesn't smile at my lame attempt. Instead, defeated eyes fall to the floor. "I know."
I feel like an ass instantly, and lift her face back to mine with a finger on her chin. "Hey," I say softly. "I really like you, Bella. But I wasn't trying to…rush into a commitment tonight. I wasn't proposing, or even asking you to be my girlfriend." I remove my finger to rub my hands over my face, frustrated and nervous. She could very well refuse to see me again after tonight. And while I should just accept that sort of decision – while I should just step back, give her space, and move on – I don't think I'm strong enough to allow it. She's already been at the forefront of my mind for days, and letting her walk away isn't going to change this.
But she doesn't remain quiet. She doesn't reject these words, or make me leave. She doesn't tell me that going out tonight was probably a mistake.
Instead, she offers hope.
"I like you too."
EPOV outtake of when Edward confronted Bella in chapter 8:
I play with my phone as I wait on the concrete steps outside of Bella's apartment. I'd call her again, but it wouldn't do any good. She's been avoiding me for over a day. I'm not sure what I did to make her suddenly distance herself, but it's incredibly annoying that she's choosing to simply ignore me rather than tell me what's wrong.
She wasn't here when I arrived, but I figure I can wait her out for a little while. It seems like a full-on confrontation is the only way I'll get her to talk to me.
Almost twenty minutes passes before I see her approaching the building. Her head is lowered, her arms weighed down with a dozen grocery bags. She looks up and catches my eye, and I immediately rush forward to help her.
"What are you doing here?" she asks warily, looking up at me with wide eyes. She offers no resistance as I slip the bags from her fingers.
"I'm trying to find out what's going on with you," I answer with a sigh. She flexes her fingers, her brow pulling into a tiny frown.
"Nothing's going on with me," she says casually. Bullshit. "And I can get those." She reaches for the bags, but I quickly pull them away.
"I've got them," I grumble. I'm irritated. Irritated that I had to sit on her steps for half an hour because she wouldn't answer her phone; irritated that she doesn't respect me enough to simply talk to me.
We walk towards the front of her building. Her posture is tense. Anxious.
"So you're not avoiding me?" I ask, not bothering to keep the edge from my voice. Her blush immediately gives her away.
"It's complicated," she tries to explain. "You probably wouldn't even understand."
"Try me," I prompt. We'll never know if I'll understand if she doesn't fucking talk to me.
"There's no rule that says I have to return all your phone calls, you know," she says defensively. "We're not dating."
I wish I could shake some sense into this girl. The mixed signals are making my head spin. One minute she's kissing me, encouraging me, while the next minute she's hiding with her tail between her legs. It's true that she said she doesn't want a relationship right now, but that doesn't give her a free ticket to completely blow me off. At the very least, I considered us to be friends.
"Yeah, well it's a pretty shitty thing to do, Bella," I say, exasperated, and she winces as she hits the call button for the elevator. "If you decide you don't want to talk to me anymore I'd at least like a little notice or a reason why. I mean one day you're kissing me and the next you won't even talk to me."
"You kissed me," she reminds me. As if I forced myself on her or something. As if she didn't enjoy it at all.
"And you kissed me back. I've never forced myself on you," I angrily reply, my voice rising. Bella looks around anxiously, but there's only one other person in the lobby. The doors to the elevators suddenly part and we step inside.
When she doesn't speak, I say, "Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
"It's nothing," she replies, still tense. "I'm not upset about anything."
She fidgets suspiciously, and it's obvious she's lying. Painfully obvious. Not to mention I already spoke with Alice, who told me everything Bella said. She told me how jealous Bella seemed, which coincidentally had pleased me at the time. But I never expected for her to withdraw completely.
"You're lying," I point out.
"No I'm not."
"Alice said you saw me with Victoria."
Bella's eyes widen a little at being caught, and then they narrow. "Who's Victoria?" she demands, and her jealous words cause that same triumphant feeling. I want her to be jealous. I want her to care. But I want it to bring her closer, not push her away.
"Dr. Ellis. Sorry," I say.
I see Bella's jaw clench. "So? I mean yeah, I saw you together. Why would that bother me?"
Her defensive, uncaring attitude is really starting to get on my nerves. The doors open and we step out onto Bella's floor.
"You're a terrible liar, Bella."
"I'm not lying," she says as she unlocks her door, and I'm suddenly pushed over the edge.
"You know, I really don't get you," I say irritably. "You say you don't want to be more than friends right now, which is fine. I keep hoping you'll change your mind about it, but I understand if you have your reasons for not wanting to get involved right now." I throw the bags down on her kitchen table and turn to her, trying to keep my anger in check. But frankly, this entire situation is pissing me off. "What I don't get is why you would completely stop talking to me simply because I spoke to a female coworker. Especially since you insist on being 'just friends.'"
I stare down at her, waiting for an explanation. Her eyes go wide for a moment before they begin to water. She quickly turns away.
And I feel like the biggest tool on the planet.
I don't know whether to touch her or not. Whether it would be inappropriate. But I can't just let her stand there and weep because I paraded into her apartment and confronted her like a jackass.
She's confused. She just moved across the country after leaving her long-term boyfriend. She's alone for the first time in who knows how long.
I need to try to understand, even if it's not what I want to hear.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, I try to turn her so that she's facing me. "Bella, look at me," I say softly.
She turns around slowly, her big, wide eyes meeting mine. They're wet, but luckily the dam hasn't broke. I instinctively reach forward and wipe beneath her eyes, trying to remove any traces of moisture there.
Please don't cry. Don't cry don't cry don't cry.
"I'm not trying to upset you, Bella," I say quietly. "I just can't figure out what the hell you're thinking."
She shakes her head and lowers her eyes. "I don't know what I'm thinking either."
"Well… at least I'm not the only one," I joke, trying to lighten the situation. She doesn't say anything. "You said you liked me the other day," I go on. "You may not have known what you were getting yourself into at the time, but I'll have you know I took you seriously. You'll have a hell of a time getting rid of me now."
She doesn't smile, but she raises her eyes to mine again. And that's a start.
"I'm sorry I ignored you," she says sincerely. "And I do like you. That's why everything is so confusing to me right now."
She's said it before, but each time affects me like it's the first. A small reminder of why I'm standing here.