Challenge Number/Title: #6 / The Inanimate POV

Date Posted: 2/18/13

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: NC17

Genre: AH

Content Descriptors: Angst/Romance

Character Pairing: Edward and Bella

#6 – The Inanimate POV - Write from the Point of View of a piece of furniture. Your entry should be in first person POV. You can choose any piece of furniture from any room.


Bright Light, Dark Room


It's so cold in the morning, before anyone gets here. I feel very alone and unwanted. It isn't until I feel his dry-cleaned tailored trousers settle down on my cool exterior that serenity consumes me. It's nice. Peaceful. But then I realize he's tense. His leg keeps bouncing up and down against my leg. His body shifts, a little to the left, a little to the right. He straightens up. He slouches. Fidgeting like he can't help but do anything else. His hand comes between his legs to drum on my seat, finger-tips playing a song I can't decipher.

"Hello." A feminine voice comes from my right, the occupant in my seat replies with a gruff "good morning" before his fingers are back to tapping.

Minutes later he shifts forward, only inches of him actually touching me. I wonder why he's moved so drastically, what could be making him so anxious today?

Every day, he comes in and chooses me. I don't know what about me is so special, why he didn't choose another? But no, it's always me. I've gotten used to his forceful way of sitting, moving and standing up. He acts like I don't matter, which I don't. He moves as if I weigh less than a feather, when in reality it's far more than that. He works out, his arm muscles sometimes press against me, my arms digging into his.

"Fuck." He mumbles under his breath, he's usually quiet when he's here. "Can't even get my fucking order right."

There's more words flowing out of his mouth but I can't hear them, he's talking into his hand and mumbling as lowly as possible.

"How are you today, Mr. Cullen?" Another man's voice comes from in front of me, startling him. I feel him jolt, one hand coming down to my side to clamp down on me - hard and rough, tight and forceful.

"I'm fine. How are you doing, Mr. Newton?" His voice is strained, his fingertips digging into me.

"Lovely, mind if I sit down?" he asks, despite my occupant's obvious resistance.

"I'm leaving soon." His clipped tone would send anyone away immediately, but not Mr. Newton.

"Me too." The man he calls Mr. Newton sits a few feet away from me. I feel Mr. Cullen's muscles tense in his legs and back as he leans into me. I wish I could help him, he seems stressed.

"Bella!" Mr. Newton calls. The leg that was bouncing stops, his grip on my side releases momentarily before starting again.

"Thank you so much for the coffee, you're a doll."

"You're uh- you're welcome." A soft feminine voice takes over and the grip tightens again. I know her.

"Can I take you up on dinner? Tonight? Eight?"

"Can't tonight, family is coming to visit." Her voice is apologetic and awkward.

"I'm not giving up on that one, she's quite sexy for a coffee shop worker, right?" Mr. Newton nudges my leg, Mr. Cullen moves us back an inch.

"Seems a bit young for you, don't you think?" Tense and awkward. The grip on my side loosens, I'm thankful. The tapping foot starts again.

"Oh, Cullen, don't get so caught up in that bull shit." Mr. Newton jokes, nudging me again, vibrating up through to him. I wish I could nudge Mr. Newton back, it's annoying. "She's young and beautiful and obviously needs someone to take care of her. I'll be tapping that by the end of the month."

"I'm sure you will, Newton." Abruptly he stands up, pushing me backwards and into the wall with a loud bang. Though, he usually pushes me away without a second thought, this seems harsher than normal. I let it go, someone will be coming for me soon enough.

I feel Newton leave seconds later, obviously not wanting to hang around if he isn't here.

It's empty for a moment before people start sitting on me again. I go through a couple hours of scrambling, up and down, left and right. One person sits on the edge while her friend sits on the other. I feel two people on me the next round, they're too heavy.

Hot coffee is spilled all over my seat, Embry comes to clean it up.

I'm used as a shelf for book bags and purses. A baby seat is placed in my lap. Feet are all over me, kicking and pushing.

It's hours after he left that the soft-voiced girl sits on me. Bella. She's on her break, I can hear her camera clicking as she photographs the room.

I wonder if she'll take a picture of me.

She stays very still as she consumes herself in her camera. No tapping feet, no gripping hands, no jolting moves. She doesn't kick me or push me, she's gentle and calm. She's light as a feather. She's sat on me before, always on her breaks.

I feel her move to her left, grab something out of her bag and put it on the table. A computer. Her hands move but her body stays still, I feel the slight movements as she starts typing.

"Day one, coffee shop." She breathes, no one can hear her but me. "It's extremely cloudy and rainy today, damp and dark. I kind of love this type of day, the customers seeming to revel in their warm cups of coffee and tea. Their appreciation level is expanded. The usuals all showed up. Poodle asked me out again. His hair is so damned curly and poofy I can't help but think of a poodle every time I look at him. I had a lame excuse, I know I should just tell him no, but it's hard. Whatever. Bittersweet was here too. Same attitude, same sleek suit. I expected no less from such a predictable asshole. No one has claimed the letter yet. It bothers me. I wonder if there's any way to put out a search party for the owner, it really seemed like it was important."

"What?" A customer beside her asks suddenly, making her jump in surprise.

"Excuse me?" She shifts just slightly, I can barely feel her move.

"Were you talking to me or to yourself?"

"Oh, myself. I'm sorry." She starts to type again, this time without speaking. All I can hear is the rapid press of the keys as she types out her thoughts and the occasional sigh of frustration. She's not like Mr. Cullen, she doesn't grab me tightly or bounce her foot. Even in her frustrated state she's calmer than he's ever been.

I hear her gasp under her breath as she types frantically, leaving me to wonder what she so desperately needs to get out of her head and into writing.

A/N:

Meyer owns Twilight. I own a dog named Charlie Swan.

Thank you to my super fast & awesome beta, mauigirl60

Yo Amy! We be out dropping science, son.

Go read TypoKween's PTB Challenge, she's super talented.

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed - it's really great to hear your thoughts! Also, thank you to those who have favorited/follow this story! I don't have a day I update each week so putting it on alert is probably your best bet to know when a new chapter is posted!