Note: This one shot is heavily based on John Mayer's song Comfortable. I highly recommend listening to it during, before, or after reading, though you do not have to. This story directly follows the song and has interwoven the lyrics within. It can easily be found on youtube with lyrics if you're interested.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters. Nor do I own John Mayer, his song, his lyrics or anything else. They just inspired me.
Her slender fingers were gently lying across my forearm. "I'll get the bread and cheeses, and you pick up the drinks. Get a variety, okay? Then I'll meet you by the deli." She smiled beautifully up at me as I nodded in compliance; with a quick squeeze to my arm, we parted ways.
The cart's wheels swiveled and fought to move in different directions as most do. With forced effort on my part, it managed to glide in a straight line. My eyes scanned down each aisle, searching for the one that held the drinks and stopping when I spotted them in number five.
Turning down the aisle, I found myself in a different time. Floating between the present and the past, my feet carried me to the exact spot where I'd once stood. My hands dropped from the cart as if it would aid me in recreating the memory.
I'm bent over, adjacent to my shopping cart, searching for the Pepsi. It's your favorite, and consequently, the only one that you'll actually drink. My favorite is Dr. Pepper, but I switched for you. Sometimes you don't want a whole can for yourself; you just want a sip from mine. It's a small price to pay to make you happy.
My hand barely touches the twelve- pack as a brisk wind brushes my back, surprising me, and I jump upright. A small figure leaps onto my cart, your momentum carrying you as you ride down aisle five.
I laugh at your childish antics, yet find it completely adorable. You turn your head back to smile widely at me. Our eyes lock momentarily before you're crashing into a rack full of magazines.
The front of the cart tips up as you fall off the back, landing hard on your butt. Magazines go flying in all directions, scattering all over the tiled floor. Some even tear as they're ripped away from their intended positions and crumple beneath the wheels of the cart. The rack teeters for a moment before finally choosing to topple over with a loud, metallic bang.
I rush to you. Any fear I harbored for you injuring yourself dissipates as your head falls back with boisterous laughter. Helping you up from your crumpled position on the floor, I find myself laughing along with you. You're the only one I know who could cause so much damage by simply riding a shopping cart.
A young stock boy comes barreling around the corner. He takes one long look at the mess we've made and turns bright red. You bury your face into my chest, trying to stifle the giggles you know are rude. My chest vibrates with laughter, but for the stock boy's sake, I try to gulp it down and force a remorseful look.
I begin to apologize, but he cuts me off, asking in a controlled voice if we could leave. It's not so much a question as a demand.
Throwing out a needless apology anyway, I turn you in my arms and lead us out the door, where our giggles erupt once more.
Shaking my head out of the memory, I started compiling several different types of soda pop into the cart, carefully avoiding the Pepsi and choosing Coke instead.
"There you are, Jake." My beautiful girlfriend's voice flitted over to me. "I told you to meet me at the deli. What's been taking you so long?"
"Sorry, babe, I've been trying to figure out how many bottles we'll need. Think this'll be enough?"
Her brown eyes scanned the contents of the cart as she dumped an armload of various breads and cheeses into the mix.
"Yes, I think so." She smiled up at me as she rounded the metal cart and tucked an arm through mine. Something inside of me wavered.
She doesn't wear your smile.
She doesn't offer your touch.
She doesn't have your shade of brown eyes.
My gaze shifted to the untouched Pepsi lying on the shelf. I'd resolved never to share it with anyone but you again.
The voice in my head speaks only to you, just as it always has. I can't remember what went wrong last September. Though, I'm sure you'd remind me if you had to.
"Should we just stick to the hot dogs or bring a grill and cook hamburgers too? I know people will cook their own hot dogs over the bonfire, but do you think we should offer a variety?" Angela nibbled on one pink painted nail as she glanced up to me, awaiting my opinion.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pulled her closer, attempting to calm her nervous anxiety. "I think hot dogs will be fine. It's just a small get together; you don't need to worry so much."
"But it's the first party we'll be hosting together as a couple, and it's your birthday. I just want it to be perfect."
"It will be," I responded, kissing her on the temple and ushering us forward once more. "Everyone's going to love it, Ang."
Wringing her hands in front of her, she whispered, "I hope you're right."
The party wasn't until the next night, but Angela wanted to go grocery shopping early, so we'd have the evening to prepare everything. Once our cart was full to the brim, we checked out and headed back to my house.
My arms were loaded up with plastic bags as I handed Angela the keys. She rushed to unlock the door and flip on the lights as I'd gallantly refused her help with carrying the groceries.
The next hour was spent chopping vegetables, arranging meat and cheese trays, and creating a seven layer dip. Angela was reading the instructions on a box of cake mix as I encased her between my arms and the counter and kissed her cheek.
"Why don't we finish this up tomorrow?" I asked suggestively, burying my nose in her dark locks. Her hair is so close to the chestnut color of yours, but it isn't quite right.
Shutting my eyes, a memory emerged of us on the couch. You're resting your head on my knee while my fingers brush through your long tresses, and I relish in the softness of the curls as they slip through my fingers.
Spinning my girlfriend around in my arms, I was almost surprised it wasn't your face smiling back at me. Dipping my head down to her eye level, I realized I didn't have nearly as far to go. She's several inches taller than you.
I pulled Angela closer, as if her physical proximity would dispel the comparisons from my mind, though it only fueled them. With my arms wrapped fully around her waist, they felt every difference in her shape. Her breasts were more prominent, her hips were an inch or two wider, and her skin carried a beautiful bronze glow.
She isn't petite like you. She doesn't have a milky white complexion that compliments her deep, chocolate brown eyes. She doesn't form against my body the way a missing puzzle piece should. The way you do.
Angela gracefully folded her arms around my neck, nodding in response to my request as she slowly guided me to her mouth. Her lips caressed mine in a slightly different way. She was more tentative in her kisses, held back and conservative.
She doesn't kiss me with the same kind of passion that you did. As if you could never get enough of them. Each kiss from you was an illustration of your love. Your love for me.
I'm still getting used to kissing her instead of you.
Sweeping her up and into my arms, I continued the languid caress with our lips, adding our tongues to the mixture as I carried her into the bedroom.
Our love making followed in much the same way as her kiss. Sweet, innocent touches were shared. Long and leisured strokes were used. Whispers of sweet nothings were uttered into each other's ear. She described it as magical, and I agreed, yet I found myself biting my lip as my thoughts shouted out for you.
Too many times, her face shifts into yours. Too many times, I fight the urge to call your name. Too many times, my body feels foreign, mourning for the loss of yours.
Angela's nude form was wrapped around mine, her head laid on my chest, and our legs intertwined. She drew small patterns across my abs while I gently stroked her hair. She smelled of lavender and mint. The voice in my head reminded me, You smell of strawberries and vanilla.
Her sweet caress was brief as she rolled over onto her side and out of my arms, claiming she needed her space to sleep.
Though my arms are empty, they carry the weight of my loss, yearning to fall asleep while holding you.
I sleep with this new girl I'm still getting used to.
"How are things going with Angela?" Seth asked while rotating his stick; the hotdog sizzled as the bluish flames licked around it. My eyes lifted from the bonfire long enough to locate Angela on the other side, laughing and talking with Emily.
Seth looked expectantly at me, awaiting an answer while Quil, Embry, and Paul continued to stare at their hotdogs but lended their ears to the conversation.
"Things are great." My tone lacked the appropriate enthusiasm. "It's going really well."
"She's a great girl," Embry added. The implication behind his words caused my heart to sink slightly. Better than Bella was definitely implied.
The knot suddenly forming in my throat made it difficult to speak, but I managed gruffly. "Yeah, she's wonderful."
Seth clapped a hand on my back. "She's good for you, man."
"She's fucking hot, too," Paul quipped, holding his hotdog up like a staff in one hand while his other offered me a high five. I rolled my eyes a bit but indulged him anyway.
Laughter ensued as high fives found their way around the group of us.
Removing the fully cooked hotdogs from my stick, I placed them into buns and onto a plate. I loaded mine with all the available condiments and only squeezed a line of mustard on Angela's. Once the plate was made, I walked up behind Angela, catching the last bit of her conversation.
"Leah and I were just discussing joining a book club on Wednesday nights. Do you read a lot of fiction? You're welcome to join us," the mother-figure of our group, Emily, asked.
Angela didn't hesitate in her response. "Thank you for the offer, but the Bible is the only thing that I read."
The voice that calls out to you rebuked, You would jump at the chance to join a book club. So many winter nights were spent curled up in front of the fireplace while you read. One particular night came to my mind:
The biting wind chills me to the bone as I pull my hood tighter around my neck and rush up the porch steps, eager to get out of the blizzard. The moment I cross the threshold inside, the snow begins to melt off of my wool jacket. My wet boots squeak on the hardwood floor as I work at kicking them off.
My eyes lift from my feet to find you propped against a mountain of pillows in front of the fireplace. You look up from your book to smile at me. Unable to remove my coat with an armload of firewood, I cross over to you, dumping the pile unceremoniously into its crate.
Finally able to slip off my jacket, I toss it on the nearest chair and take a seat next to my Bells. You throw the layers of blankets over my legs, covering us both beneath their warmth as you cuddle in closer to me. The winter storm has gotten worse over the last few days; the snow accumulation eventually knocked out our power, resulting in our makeshift bed in front of the fire, romantically surrounded by candles and huddling together for warmth.
You lay your head onto my shoulder while my arm wraps around you, pulling you closer, yet it's never close enough. I poke at the fire as you read aloud to me; the sound of your melodic voice fills the empty room around us. Even secluded in our little corner of the world, I know I couldn't be happier than I am now, with you in my home, in my arms.
In a moment of sheer bliss, I dip my head down to kiss you gently on the nose. You giggle and nuzzle your head deeper into my chest. Setting the fire poker off to the side, I slide the book out of your hands, placing it face down behind us. Your chocolate brown eyes gaze up into mine, illuminated by and sparkling in the fire light.
My fingers ghost along your cheek, taking in the beauty of your soft complexion, rose colored lips, and long lashes. Slowly, I move in to kiss you, as though we have all the time in the world to be together.
Our lips move against one another's with a practiced patience, simultaneously parting to deepen the kiss. Your fingers thread into my hair as my own move to your blouse, leisurely unhooking each button. We part for a moment. Staring deeply into your eyes, I slip the blouse off your shoulders. Unhappy with my increasingly slowed pace, you aid in removing your hands from the garment and toss it aside, swiftly gripping the hem of my shirt and raising it off of me in turn. You rake your nails down my shoulders and back. Smiling at your enthusiasm, I pull you to me, pressing your chest against mine and kissing you harder and deeper than before to equal your increased passion.
Your lips trail my jaw to my throat while your hands float down my abs to my jeans, tugging and unbuttoning them. Not to be outdone, I slide my hands around your back, unclasping your bra; the lacy fabric slackens between us. In your haste, you sit up and tear your bra away. My eyes focus on your bare breasts, heaving with each rapid breath as you slide down your pants. My hands have a mind of their own; reaching forward, they cup your perfect mounds.
I give way to the small force of your hands as they shove my shoulders, pushing me onto my back. Straddling me, you hook your fingers around my jeans and boxers, pulling them down past my knees, where I kick them the rest of the way off.
Wrapping my fingers around the base of your neck, I pull you to me and kiss you fervently while my free hand slides down your hip and around to your front, my fingers sliding between your legs.
You moan into my mouth and begin rocking against my hand as I slip two digits inside you.
I can't keep from commenting, "God, Bells, you're so wet."
My mind has gone hazy with lust, concentrating only on the sensations: the feel of your body against mine, of your hair brushing my chest, of your lips trailing my neck and shoulder.
My fingers continue to pump inside you, curling and stroking as you gasp into my ear, and your breath escalates. Lifting my shoulders off the floor, I find myself eye level with your breasts and easily attach my mouth to one of your rosy nipples. My teeth scrap against the soft flesh as you begin to tighten around my fingers.
I love when you moan my name.
"I want you inside me."
You don't wait on a response from me as you slide back and sit up, centering yourself over my dick and groaning as you slip me in. I grip onto your hips tightly, holding you down on me and savoring the feeling of being inside you. You're so tight, so wet, and, oh God, so beautiful sitting on top of me.
Obscenities fall from my lips and yours as we begin to move together, rocking our hips in unison. Your fingers are splayed across my chest as my hands roam freely over your body, up and down your sides, your chest, your neck and stomach. You ride me harder and harder, using your hands on my chest for leverage, and your breasts bounce gloriously as you do.
My name falls from your mouth like a mantra, a signal I've learned of your impending orgasm. Relentlessly thrusting, your mantra turns into a high pitched cry as you throw your head back and clench repeatedly around me. The visual is all I need, and I'm coming with you, my back arching off of the floor with my eyes squeezed shut.
"Jake, is that mine?" Angela's sweet voice pulled me out of my memories.
Rapidly blinking away your images, I smiled and stepped toward her. "Yeah, babe. Just mustard, right?"
I offered her the hotdog on the plate as I picked up my own and forced myself to pay attention to the girl on my arm.
As soon as we finished eating, we wandered back toward the bonfire, where I tossed the paper plate, watching it shrivel and burn. The next thing I knew, a large, dark figure was flying over the thick flames, barely missing the burning embers around the edges as he landed in the sand. Angela squeaked; automatically, my arm tightened around her waist and pulled her a step back from the mayhem.
Seth stood from his squatted position as he laughed and pointed at Quil. "Ha! I told you I could clear it! You owe me twenty bucks, Ateara!"
"Oh, my God, Seth!" Leah screamed at him. "What the hell were you doing?" Her eyes snapped from Seth to the bonfire and back. I could see her concern; the flames reached about four feet high and five feet long. Seth was lucky he'd landed leaning forward and not back, or he would've fallen into the fire.
"What? I made it." He looked smugly back at her. He raised a challenging eyebrow at the rest of the guys. "I'd like to see the rest of you fuckers try."
It was an incredibly stupid idea, yet Quil, Embry, Paul, and Sam looked back and forth between them and nodded.
"Challenge accepted." Embry straightened as he stalked around the bonfire, backing up a bit before taking off in a running leap. He jumped high enough but not nearly far enough. As his boots landed on the red hot coals, a few fiery cinders dusted around his pant leg. "Fucking shit!" Embry yelled, smacking the burning embers off of his jeans.
Most of the guys chuckled while Angela just put her hand over her mouth in horror.
"My turn," Paul smirked as he took his mark - the same spot where Seth and Embry had leapt from. Paul didn't get as much height, and the flames licked at his shoes, but he was unharmed as he landed safely on the other side. "Take that, bitches!"
Next was Quil; he looked a little nervous but determined as he stepped up. He didn't get nearly enough height when he jumped; his back leg caught onto the top flaming log, knocking it off the pile, and losing his balance as he landed. He fell forward onto his hands but, luckily, out of the way of the fire. Of course the guys started cracking up at his misfortune while the girls incessantly asked if he was okay.
"Hey, where the hell did Sam go?" Paul asked, searching for the last participant.
"Over here," Sam called as he walked down the pathway. When he stepped into the fire light, we all burst out laughing. He had put on his fireman boots, pants, and coat; he was slipping on the gloves as he walked around the pyre. I knew the fire gear was heavy, and it would weigh him down, but even if he fell straight into the flames, he'd probably walk away unharmed.
Sam took a running leap. He cleared the logs but landed in the hot embers; they dusted around him as they had Embry, but his gear protected him. He laughed triumphantly as he stomped out of the fire's ring, the rest of us laughing with him.
I looked down at Angela. Her arms wrapped around my middle as she smiled up at me.
"That was some pretty funny, shi-" I caught myself - she prefers that I not use profanity, "shenanigans," I finished lamely.
Your mouth was so dirty.
Staring at my reflection in the dresser mirror, I fight with my tie, folding it over, under and tucking it through until it finally sits straight on my collar. You gave me the sapphire blue tie to wear this evening, gushing about how the gorgeous color popped against my black dress shirt - or some such garbage that I didn't care about. You handed me the tie; I put it on - enough said.
As I'm lacing up my black Oxfords, a couple loud thumps resound from the living room.
"Ow! Fuck, that hurt!" Your voice screams with pain as I run out into the hallway to check on you. You're sitting up on the hardwood floor; your short black dress clings to your body and rides up your bent legs. You yank one high-heeled shoe off, hurling it across the room; it bounces off the wall and onto the floor.
"Damn you! You stupid, fucking, piece of shit shoes!" You rip off the other one, throwing it in the same direction.
"Bells?" I cautiously walk toward you. "Are you all right?"
"No." The anger deflates from your voice, and you look up at me, teary-eyed. "That really fucking hurt. I think I twisted my ankle."
I reach down for you at the same time that you reach up, and I help you to your feet. I can tell the minute you try to apply pressure to your right foot because you hiss, your knees buckle, and you wobble. I quickly wrap my arm around you to keep you steady while you take one hobbled step forward and swear again.
"Shit, Jake, I can't put any weight on it."
You needn't say anything more; with one arm still wrapped around your back, I easily sweep you up, carrying you around to the couch. Carefully setting you down on the leather cushions, I take a seat on the coffee table facing you and gently lift your injured foot into my lap. You inhale sharply as I lightly finger your reddened ankle.
"It's not swelling, so I don't think it's sprained," I say, affectionately kissing your foot before I place it back down on my lap. "Do you want me to get you some ice?"
"No, I think your kiss magically made it all better," you grin at me. Sliding your foot off of my lap, you reach forward, capturing my tie in your small fist. You tug it toward you, forcing me to lean down until my lips meet yours.
My hands move to your knees, my thumbs rubbing circles as they inch their way up until they slip under your dress. You moan into my mouth as my fingers dig into your skin, searching your hips for the thin string of your thong. I find it and begin tugging it down your smooth legs.
You pry your swollen lips away from mine, breathing heavily. "Jake, stop, we don't have time. We'll be late for Rachel's graduation."
"Nah, these things last hours. We'll make it in time to watch her walk. She'll understand." The way you frantically fumble to unhook my belt tells me that my flimsy excuse has won.
You lean back on the cushions, shifting your hips up off the couch and enabling me to pull your underwear down your long legs. Impatiently, you fist the hem of your dress, yanking the tight fabric up over your ass and exposing your gorgeous center to me. Your eagerness gives me a slight pause, and I stop my movements and stare, transfixed by the beautiful woman in front of me.
"The point of a quickie is that they're fast, Jake," you tease me but then lower your voice to a seductive coo, "Hurry up, and fuck me."
Who am I to argue with that?
My hands move faster than they ever have before. Shoving my pants down, I drop to my knees and line my cock up to your entrance. Gripping on to your bare hips, I yank you to the edge of the couch at the same time that I thrust forward, burying myself inside you. You fist your hands in my hair and allow your head to fall back as you moan loudly. I palm at your clothed breast, wishing more than anything that I could rip the dress off you but knowing that I can't. Later, I tell myself, after the party, we're doing this again, and I'll tear any barrier that gets in my way to shreds.
Your legs wrap around my waist, forcing my hips to delve deeper into you. Your hands travel all over, clinging to me with your nails digging into my back as you pull me closer and search for my lips. Wildly kissing me, you bite at my bottom lip, and I can't help my smile.
"My little vixen," I murmur as I trail wet kisses down your jaw and throat, continuing my ruthless assault by pounding into you.
You arch your back and raise one knee up to my shoulder while I kiss along the neckline of your dress, dipping my tongue into your exposed cleavage.
"Fuck, Jake," you nearly scream. My name repeatedly falls from your luscious lips as I mercilessly drive harder into you. "Jake, Jake, Ja-" My name shifts into a wail while I feel your muscles constrict, hugging my cock in orgasm.
"Jake?" Angela's sweet voice snapped me out of another memory. Guiltily, I took her hand in mine and vowed to myself that I'd give her all of my attention for the rest of the evening. She smiled back up at me and tugged on my hand. "Don't you think we should liven things up a bit?"
Angela swayed her hips as she walked backwards, dancing to an imaginary tune until she reached the stereo. She flipped the switch; the sound of a trumpet filled the air in a jazzy beat, and she continued to dance, holding my hands in hers.
"This is more like it," she laughed, curling herself into my arms and kicking up her feet. She laughed, throwing her head back joyously as I lifted her up and spun her around. When I placed her back on the ground, she called to our friends, waving them to join us on our impromptu dance floor. She's always the life of the party.
Angela pulled away from me momentarily, ejecting John Coltrane's Impressions and swapping it for a new CD. "I like Miles Davis as much as the next person, but let's put on something a little more up to date."
The voice in my head returned, She swears that she's artsy, but you could distinguish Miles from Coltrane.
Katy Perry came blasting through the speakers. All the girls squealed about the song, and I had to force myself to smile as Angela came sauntering back to me. She pressed her body against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck while she grinded her center into me. Running my fingers through her long, dark curls, I looked down into her beautiful face. She's perfect - so flawless, or so they say.
Your perfect features flashed through my mind's eye in a slideshow of images. I saw your chestnut hair fanned out around you as you lay in the warm grass, followed by a close up of your chocolate brown eyes, looking up at me through long lashes. Next, your arms are held high above your head as you run down the beach away from me.
I squeezed my eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the onslaught of images. When I opened them again, I was staring straight into Angela's fearful gaze.
"Jacob, are you happy?" she asked sincerely.
Hesitant to answer, I swallowed thickly - a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Angela as her eyes rounded and her hands slipped down my shoulders. She looked as if she knew my answer, though I wasn't even sure if I knew it yet. Was I happy?
"You two make the cutest couple," Emily said as she danced up next to us with her hands wrapped around Sam's neck.
"Aw, thank you!" Angela smiled brightly, wrapped her arms back around my waist, and laid her cheek to my chest. She thinks I can't see the smile that she's faking when she poses for pictures that aren't being taken.
You're sticking your tongue out while I'm cocking my head to the side with one eyebrow raised.
You're wearing a salacious grin with your chin nearly touching your shoulder while I hold a smirk.
You're touching your fingers to your mouth as though surprised while I've turned serious; my eyes are soft and staring devotedly at you.
Now I've moved my hand to your cheek and guided you to me, kissing those lips in a moment that will last forever.
I smile at the photo strip hanging on my refrigerator. Those four little pictures of us show the happiness we have in our relationship. I wouldn't say it at the time, but now I'm glad you dragged me into that photo booth.
Opening the refrigerator door, I replace the carton of juice. Turning back around to the stove, I flip off the burner and scrape the eggs onto a plate. The shuffling of two tiny feet sounds from the hallway, and they stop once they reach the open living room.
I can't help but smile at my sleepy Bella, standing in my old t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants as you rub your eyes and yawn. "What time is it?"
I choose to tease you instead of answer. "Way to go, Bells. You've ruined my surprise." Your tired eyes widen a bit as you look at the frying pan and spatula in my hands. "How am I supposed to bring you breakfast in bed if you're not in bed?"
"Hmm," you grin, "that does seem to be a problem."
"And we can't have that, now can we?"
"No, we can't." I point the spatula at the hallway. "Get your butt back to bed."
"What if I don't?" you playfully taunt.
"Don't make me come after you," I lightheartedly warn you.
"I dunno," you say, padding around the living room, "This couch looks awfully comfortable. I may have to sit over here." You smirk, slowly inching yourself closer to the cushions.
I calmly and gently place the spatula down on the counter and round the center island. Your body stiffens and your stance makes it clear you're ready to run. I bolt forward, and you squeal, running away from me. You make it about four feet before I catch you; my arms wrap around your middle, and I lift you up.
"No! No!" you laugh, your legs flail about as you pretend to fight me. "Let me go!"
"No way!" Jogging into the bedroom, I drop you to the mattress, quickly pinning you down by laying myself down on top of you. Even with your bed-head, grey sweatpants, and no make up, you're still the most beautiful girl in the world. Suddenly, my words become more serious as stare down at you. "I'm never letting you go."
And that's when it hit me.
I loved you.
I pulled myself roughly out of Angela's arms.
I loved you - grey sweat pants, no make up... so perfect.
I realized then that Angela was never going to be able to replace you. No girl will ever be able to replace you. I'll never find a love like ours again. Our love was comfortable and so broken in.
It was as though the whole world had frozen around me; the music stopped, and everyone stood still. My eyes traveled over Angela, and the confusion and hurt were written all over her beautiful face. She's perfect, so flawless. Everyone can see that. Everyone here has told me that, but…
I'm not impressed.
A single raindrop hit my arm, breaking the spell as time started all over again, but now it was running faster. Another raindrop hit and then another, and suddenly, it was pouring down rain. Everyone scattered around, rushing to pick up the food, the chairs, the stereo, and the whole while, Angela and I stood still, staring into each other's eyes.
Maybe it was a moment she saw coming. Maybe it wasn't.
Still, I said the only thing I could. "I'm sorry."
Resignation lit her eyes, and I turned around and walked straight through the crowd of my friends, ignoring the calls of my name. I got in my car and drove away, thinking of nothing else but getting to you.
"So here I am, Bella, standing in the pouring rain on your front doorstep and telling you all of this because… because I loved you. I still love you, and I'll always love you."
The rain angrily beats down on me, reprimanding me for my mistakes. My hand forms a fist as I fight to talk around the lump in my throat.
I've never been more scared in my life than I am in this moment. Knocking on her door was scary as hell too, but when she answered in only her pajamas – if you could call it that - it gave me hope. She was just wearing a white, button down shirt, the rounded hemline covering her bare thighs. It was mine.
That old shirt filled me with optimism. If she's still wearing it after all of this time, then maybe that means she misses me. And if that's true, then maybe, just maybe, she still loves me too.
Bella stares at me from her doorway; her chestnut hair flows freely around her shoulders, the light illuminating her from behind as though she's an angel. She's biting her lip and clutching one hand around the buttons of the shirt at her chest, heaving with each of her ragged breaths. How did I ever let her go?
With my heart pounding, I carry on, "Every memory I have of us, Bells, I can still feel. When I think back on our time together, I'm not just remembering it; I'm reliving it."
The raindrops flow down my face, intermingling with my tears.
"I miss you… and if diving back into those memories is the only way that I can be with you, then I'll live the rest of my life in the past."
Bella's lips part as she lets out a soft gasp; her eyes fill with tears, and I can't help myself - I take the last step up her stairs, moving so I'm standing right in front of her.
"If the ghost of you is all I can have, then just know that I'll never love anyone else. I can't when you have my whole heart." Her tears finally break, falling down her cheeks as she looks up at me, and I want to wrap her in my arms and kiss them away, but I have to wait. I can't push her.
"Bella, I'm the biggest idiot for ever letting you go, for not seeing this sooner, and for waiting so long." Her hand starts to reach out to me, but she hesitates, closing it back in a fist at her side. My heart clenches; she's scared, and I don't blame her. She has every right to be.
"But I'm here now, and I'm prepared to beg – to grovel. I'll get down on my knees if that's what you want." Bella cracks a small smile. I can't even describe the lightness I feel as the heavy weight is lifted off of my chest. That smile is a glimmer of hope.
Tentatively, I reach out, taking her fist into both my hands. She stiffens, but I keep going, refusing to let go. "Bells, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm begging you to please give us a second chance."
She stares up at me, her eyes boring into mine as though she's looking for the truth behind them. After a moment, she relaxes, allowing her fingers to uncurl and her palm to touch mine.
I can't keep the smile from spreading across my face as I say, "I want you back."
A/N: I know, it ends there. But that's the last line of the song. And John never told us if he got the girl back. ;-)
Jkane180 deserves HUGE thanks and half the credit. If it wasn't for her magnificent ideas and awesome brainstorming sessions, this fic wouldn't be nearly as cool as it is. It was a tough one to write and extremely complicated, I couldn't appreciate her help more. I love her lots!