A/N: Just a quick reminder that Bella's povs are set in the past. So … here we go.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight; all respective characters belong to SMeyer.
"I love you," I whisper breathlessly against Edward's neck.
"I love you more," he pants running his tongue along my earlobe. A delicious chill evaporates down my spine, cooling my heated body momentarily.
Edward pushes deeper into me; the feeling low in my belly intensifies. He moves harder, faster giving my body exactly what it wants. I don't have to ask, or moan, or push him further into me - he knows. Somehow he's just always known exactly what to do. His body reads me better than anything in this world.
There is no longer any trace of the bitter anger that had laced my tongue so heavily not thirty minutes ago. As soon as his hands touched my body all was forgotten, but that's the way we are. The words that had so easily slipped from my mouth - the incised spewing of my hatred for him - are meaningless now. Nonsensical bullshit. Now it's just us, as one, loving each other with every fiber, every morsel of our beings; giving each other everything that we have.
His fingers knead my ass in slow moving waves, a stark contrast to the swift, rhythmic beat of his thrusts. Every nerve-ending in my body feels him; even my eyelashes vibrate from the intensity. It's almost too much, but my body tries to contain it - hold onto it as long as it can. I would swallow him whole if it meant he could be closer to me. But when we're like this - him inside of me, me encompassing him, arms wrapped tightly around one another; two puzzle pieces that so desperately cling together - for that time we are perfect, an undeniably flawless fit.
My back arches off the mattress; he slips impossibly deeper inside causing me to moan and bite into his neck. He chuckles against my shoulder, his breath puffing the hair away from my skin; it tickles as it settles back into place. His lips roam the freckled tip of my shoulder. My hips move harder, a distinct slapping noise fills the air around us as our skin meets so hastily, mingling with our laden moans and haughty breathing.
I cum with reckless abandon, crying out a muffled mixture of his name and God. He falls relentlessly behind me, pounding into me fiercely, gripping my hips as if I were trying to get away. As if I would. I was right where I wanted to be, my body tumbling down a sensational, euphoric spiral of ecstasy and Edward pumping all of himself into me - I wasn't going anywhere.
Tremors ignite randomly throughout my muscles, tiny electrical pulses that crackle quickly and then lusciously fade away. Tranquility satiates my entire being; I smile lazily into Edward's hair, my fingers curling into the wavy tendrils. His body weighs heavily on top of mine, but it's a welcome weight. He kisses what skin he can reach without moving his head; dreamy, soft kisses of love and adoration.
This is one of my most favorite moments; outside of the moment of climax, this right here. Both of us gloriously spent, ridiculously happy, and more in love than ever. Feeling his loose muscles against my own, the way his feet flop loosely atop mine as opposed to toes digging into the mattress as they were just moments ago.
I breathe him in, pressing my lips against his silky hair. Millions upon millions of people in this world and I have found him. How could I be so lucky? "You are my rain cloud," I murmur.
"Your what?" He replies softly. I feel his eyebrows furrow against my chest, but every other muscle in his body stays remarkably lax.
"My rain cloud," I slur, my mouth protesting against the movement.
I can almost hear the wheels in his head moving - he's deciding if I mean it in a good or bad way. "That's a good thing." I giggle tenderly to relieve his concern.
His cheek bones press lightly into my breast when he speaks. "How so?"
"Well," I begin, stretching my body slightly and wiggling my toes. "The way I see it, it's like this - I was lost in the desert. The worst, driest desert you could think of. And there was nothing, just sand. No mountains, no grass, no rivers, or streams, or random puddles. All there was before me was this enormous expanse of clear blue sky that met the endless sand and housed a relentless, scorching sun," I pause.
"But the thing is, a clear blue sky when you're lost in a desert can be deadly. I had nothing, not even a little canteen," I shrug. His shoulders lifted softly up and down in a silent chuckle. "But then one day it happened."
"You. A promising rain cloud. You blocked out that evil sun and gave me a chance. Gave me hope."
Edward lifts up onto his elbows, piercing green eyes study mine. I know what he'll see there, dopy brown - full of sappy, sappy love. "Bella," he says quietly, his expression saying everything else.
My fingers push through his hair, curving over his ear. "So. It's a good thing. You being my rain cloud and all. You give me what I need to live."
He grins stupidly; I return one just as stupidly. We are two stupid, grinning, post-coital idiots. "Water?"
"No," I smile wider. "You."
My brow furrows. "You give me you silly. Now you've ruined the cuteness," I huff but he knows I couldn't possibly be upset. He pokes my ribs and nuzzles his nose into my clavicle.
"You can have all of me," his voice comes out muffled but the message is loud and clear.
"Ohhh, you may be sorry you said that," I laugh, rolling us over so I'm in the dominant position. He recoils in mock fear, holding his hands up defensively. I press my palms into his, our fingers lace.
My expression settles into a serious one. "You've had every morsel of me since you breathed hello." I lean in kissing his lips and feeling him grow hard against my thigh. "You'll always have me," I say into his swollen lips. His hands wind through my hair, gripping at the nape of my neck.
His mouth covers mine, deeply, sweetly our tongues waltz. He pulls away after an eternity breathless and eyes closed. "Bella…"
I study his face, take in every diminutive detail - the way his bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top. The thickness of his eyelashes and the glaring contrast of them against his creamy complexion. The light freckle that is barely noticeable at the corner of his right eye. The small budding stubble that ghosts his chin and jaw. His eyes open locking my attention to them. His pupils dilate - which would have been barely noticeable had I not been studying him so intensely.
"Marry me," he whispers so faintly it's like a murmur from the past. Something said long ago that's echoed through the years. His adam's apple dips sharply as he swallows hard against the words.
My head swims, I'm certain it's been detached from my body. I press my palm against my forehead to assure it's still in place. I'm filled with an indescribable variation of emotions. I can't catch hold of one long enough to decipher what it is. And then I am brought back to earth. Edward's expectant eyes lasso me, pulling me in then under. All I can think of is my love for him - spending the rest of my days on earth with him. It seems so simple. An obvious choice. The door slams shut on that box of mixed emotions - I'll sort them out another day.
A smile curls my lips and my nostrils burn with the unshed tears that brim my lashes. "Yes," I push through my lungs, all the air leaving my body with the word. Edward coughs out a laugh and a cry all in one, crashing his lips to mine again. Tears spill over and cascade down my cheeks. He rolls us over and pushes inside of me once again. The radiating heat spreads from between my legs and sears through my muscles; devouring any thought other than Edward's body. My brain clouds over as we lose ourselves again, utterly and completely.
Edward and I have been together for just less than two years. Four months ago he proposed. Four months ago I said yes. He promptly went out and bought me a ring which I still have yet to slip on my finger.
I've stared at it, resting so neatly in its velvety home, shiny and mocking me with its perfectness. He's only asked a handful of times - if that - why I don't wear the ring, or why I haven't told anyone. An outsider would say unequivocally that we weren't engaged based on this information, but I think Edward likes to live in delusion as much as I do.
The truth is I can't give a reason why I don't wear the ring, or what turns my insides out so disgustingly when I think about planning a wedding. I love Edward more than anything in this entire world, but still I have these unexplainable feelings. In its most basic of form it's simply this - I'm not ready. Edward would never understand this though, he's more than ready, I know. I'm the one who is lacking. So for now we are happily avoiding the gigantic elephant in the room.
I can feel it though, a ticking time bomb liable to go off at any moment, and I know deep down inside that when it does it won't be good for either of us. I thank God everyday that we at least have school to keep us preoccupied. At the very least I can lean on the same excuse I've been peddling these past four months - what's the rush? We're still in school and I wouldn't want to get married until after we graduate anyway. Is satisfies Edward's concern for now.
It's Sunday night, our lazy night. We've made it a tradition over the years to stay in and watch a movie, make dinner at home. Somehow this has also turned into spaghetti night. It's quick and easy to make as well as yummy. So in keeping with our weekly tradition, Edward and I ran to the store for some pasta sauce and noodles. I was supposed to go earlier in the week, but I had two term papers due and extra shifts that I couldn't pass up at Starbucks. So here we are in line, buying our supplies - or I am rather.
We forgot fresh parmesan cheese so Edward ran back to grab some. Now I'm standing in line gritting my teeth so tightly I'm sure the old lady in front of me can hear it. Edward is standing three aisles away, in front of a giant display of paper towels, talking to some woman. Some tall, leggy, red-headed bitch. She's laughing and he's eating it up. How the fuck is he supposed to be hungry for dinner when he's so heartily eating her shit up? I growl under my breath and pinch my fingers into my legs to keep myself from going over there.
Leggy Red-head brushes her perfectly manicured fingers against his wrist and a sharp pain lances through my stomach. I bend slightly, trying to reconcile with the sudden blow. Tears sting my eyes and I hear Jacob's voice of all things shimmer through my subconscious. I mean, look at you. I glance down at my sweat pants and ratty addidas. Flexing my fingers, I glare at my nubby, half-bitten, sorry excuse for fingernails.
This woman looks like she just came from work. Her creamy, flowing blouse and ass-hugging pencil skirt cackle at me. I force my gaze to Edward who is nodding politely and looking as though he's trying to move away. Edward is not Jacob, I forcefully remind myself. You didn't think Jacob was Jacob either, my subconscious recalls just as forcefully.
Edward finally turns and walks my way. I relax every muscle in my face, forcing the frown lines away, and supply him with an even stare. He blinks back, reaching me just as the cashier begins ringing our items. "What?" He mouths but I turn away sharply. I don't need to say anything more - he knows I'm pissed.
The entire ride home I'm having flashes of moments past. Times where I have felt so insignificant and unworthy; I hunch in my seat. I won't speak - I simply can't, but Edward thinks it's because I won't. I know if I did I'd crumble completely. It's hard to breathe with this sudden bout of depression. It has a vise grip around me, squeezing me mercilessly.
In these moments it's impossible to differentiate what has made me mad. I can logically think it through, but emotionally everything gets placed on Edward. And the mere fact that I know this only intensifies things - the guilt swelters and makes the anger worse. It's a vicious cycle that I can't seem to control no matter what is at stake.
I grip the shopping bag between my legs and glare out the window, blind to the world that passes us by. Instead I see Jacob's eyes, so dead as he laughed at my tears. I see him openly fondling another girl at a party while I sat mousey and undeserving on the couch beside him. I see my mouth opening finally to protest and Jacob elbowing me, sloshing beer on my shirt and slurring for me to loosen up.
Worst of all I see him on top of me; pressing himself into me, my body completely numb as he thrust awkwardly and then quickly found his relief. His look of disgust when he pulled away and looked at my face. How he would throw my clothes at me and tell me to cover up. I feel all the feelings associated with each and every memory all in a matter of seconds. I feel those and I remember - I remember that I'm not worth it and never will be. That all it will take is some leggy red-head to saunter in and steal Edward away.
We walk in the front door and I explode at him. I unleash everything inside of me that has been my torment. But the worst moment of all is not reliving Jacob and his abhorrent treatment of me, or the validation it caused to my lacking self-esteem; the worst moment is the look on Edward's face as I purge it all and he takes every bit - the pain in his eyes is more hurtful and gut-wrenching than any memory Jacob could possibly conjure. Adding to the torture is that I am the monster - I am the one causing the pain now.
It was not easy to leave. It took everything within my being to walk out that front door. To say it was more difficult the second time around is laughable. It was impossible, sometimes I have to check to make sure I actually left - that I didn't dream it. I miss Edward every single day. There is a gaping hole in my chest where his heart once kept me warm.
Claire says this is normal, that I feel in pieces now but it will get easier. It makes me angry when she says things like that. I think words like pretentious, and clueless, and bitch as she peers at me over her dark-rimmed glasses and smiles that reassuring smile.
She also tells me that is good - to be angry with her, to express those feelings and not just let them reside. "Un-regarded feelings decay us from the inside out," she once said in that all-too calm voice of hers.
I've been seeing her weekly again for the past three months. When I moved back in with my mother that was one of her stipulations. I'd gone to her on my knees, groveling and explaining every dirty detail. Obviously she knew a little bit about what happened with Jake, but I never divulged the whole tale. Deep down I knew the first step was to tell someone who would listen the entire story, bare-bones and all. It was the first time I had recanted it like that aloud.
I'd told Edward the bulk of it, but generally left out how devastated things made me. My mother and I cried together and she held me like I was five-years-old again. It was the best I'd felt in a long time. Then she went and scheduled me an appointment with Claire and I almost strangled her.
After a long talk about my future, I came to the conclusion that she was right. I want to be fixed more than anything, and I know I can't do it alone. The stakes are extremely high for me this time around, because if I lose Edward I'll lose everything. This is something else Claire says frequently - that idolizing Edward so will pass with time.
On this I'm sticking to my guns. I don't care what she says; she just simply doesn't get it. I don't idolize Edward, I just know to the very core of my being what he means to me. The weight of it on my soul - it's not frivolous or silly. It won't be dampened with time, I can feel it already - our time apart is only strengthening what I feel for him, and the sooner I can figure my shit out, the sooner I can go back to him.
An owl hoots low and foreboding outside my window. I listen for a moment and hear the low whooshing of the ocean not far from our house. I think about the tide eroding away the earth with each pass, bit by bit, and how similar it is to what I've felt like for so many years. Lying back on my bed, I close my eyes and imagine my body as one with the waves. I'll no longer be the beach, I am the ocean and I am strong. I mumble to myself.
I can feel my body swaying, mimicking the motion of the waves, and I think of Edward. I can almost feel him with me, floating in the ocean. His fingers glide along the surface of the water and knit into mine. We glide together effortlessly. I can see his warm eyes, the way he looks at me with such devotion.
A tear slips along my hairline into my ear. I miss him so much. I miss the smell of his skin, the slightly rough pads of his finger tips - coarse from years of playing the guitar. I miss the little things about being with him. The way he would quirk a brow when I'd say something funny - or the laugh that seemed especially reserved for me. I never heard him laugh like that with anyone else.
There is a sudden intense urge to call him, hear his voice - the way my name sounds on his tongue. But I can't. I know without a doubt that if I hear his voice that will be it. I can't possibly stay away. Instead, I dig under my mattress and pull out the only thing I allowed myself to bring that was once his.
I rest the small black box on top of my knee and stare at it. A sad smile rests on my lips, my pointer finger glides against the crushed velvet. Inside this box is a promise - the closest thing I had to bringing Edward's heart with me.
The hinges whine gently as I lift the lid. The small rectangular diamond sparkles under the moon light which filters through my window. A blue haze with dancing purple and pink specs. It reminds me of the horizon when we climbed the cliff at First Beach. The blues and purples were unlike anything I'd seen in the sky, distinctive to that image alone.
The diamond presses into my finger as I pull it from its tight nesting place. Gingerly, I slide the ring just over the tip of my ring finger, admiring the possibilities. This is why I am here in Florida, this - our future. One day I could be Mrs. Edward Cullen, and we could be happy - really, truly happy.
Today is not a good day. I went for a job interview and felt so inept that I had to hold back tears through most of it. I've never been good under pressure, and trying to present myself as valuable is something I am working on. It's one of the goals Claire has set for me. It was her suggestion to go for the job interview; especially, she said, since I was just loafing around my mother's house.
The job is working for a childcare center in the local county office of child services. I wouldn't have chosen working with kids necessarily, but Claire had a connection so she set the interview up. I was practically apologizing for wasting the woman's time by the end of the interview.
Then I stopped at the store to pick up supplies for dinner and ran into Seth of all people. I tried to pretend as if I hadn't heard him bellow my name down the aisle, but he's a persistent little shit. There are no hard feelings with him; however that didn't stop the warning bells blaring in my mind that he would tell Jacob he'd seen me.
Pulling the phone from my bag, I run my fingers along the buttons. I've fought these urges so frequently lately that I feel like an addict - only Edward is my drug of choice. It's been six months since I've spoken to him. I harbor a great deal of guilt that I haven't at the very least sent him an email, but Claire is insistent that I focus on myself.
My stomach rolls with the stress of my day. Frustration bubbles that there is one person in this whole, wide world that can make it all better and I can't speak to him. "Fuck Claire," I spit under my breath and hit one on my speed dial.
My eyes swim with tears suddenly at the realization of what I've done. The phone rings loudly in my ear; I dumbly press it there and rip my car onto the shoulder. I'm holding my breath fighting the miniature-sized Claire voice in my head ordering me to hang up.
"Hello," a rich, velvety voice engulfs my senses. I exhale silently.
"Hello?" He repeats.
"E-Edward," I whisper and the line goes deadly silent.
"Bella?" His voice breaks through delicately and the sound of my name is heartbreaking. I can hear so much in that one word, his pain, it's mine now - I've felt the entirety of it there. I smile with tears streaming down my cheeks then open my mouth to respond but am usurped by another voice - a female voice, laughing in the background.
My heart stops, my hands go cold and I feel as if I might pass out. Pulling the phone away from my ear I blink down at it in muddled confusion. I can hear Edward say my name again and hello. Stabbing the end button I throw the phone to the floor of my car as if it's bitten me. My body shakes intensely so that it blurs my vision. I press my face into the rough steering wheel and bawl. He has moved on. It's what I wanted - I try and remind myself. I've known he deserves better. The ache is raw and splintering. I pant against the ugly loud sobs that are choking me. It feels as if the earth tilts and I beg to be swallowed up by it. The future no longer matters - I have no future.
A/N: So, I said at the beginning that Bella's shiz is set in the past, but it has obviously caught up on the timeline. This is for a few reasons. Mainly because I'm only planning on having five parts to this story, so it is wrapping up. However, I haven't written part five yet … so we'll see if it ends up longer. But I can say for [pretty] sure this is the last bpov. That being said, I hope it's helped you to understand her better. I wrestled with how to tell this story so that you could really get where she is coming from and this ultimately seemed the best way to do it. But originally it was only supposed to be from Edward's point of view. ANYWAY, I will stop babbling. Thoughts? Review and let me know!
P.S. I might have some evil ideas for this story, I might not - maybe it's predictable. What do YOU think is going to happen. *quirks villainous brow*