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Jun. 14th, 2009 10:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
themidnightsonAlice's vision hadn't changed, the likelihoods of today's outcomes all depended on him.
How well he could manage being near her and not tearing her apart. How well he could manage to make sure no tiny insignificant error occurred, like her falling down and cutting herself. Alice was right in that much. The worry wasn't about what he might actively do -- emotionally and logically he couldn't fathom hurting her -- but what he might do if given the slightest cause to lose his tenuous control of the dark, starving part of him that did.
Still he found himself hopeful, even cheerful and impatient, as he waited for her to finish her morning routine. All of these little human things she felt necessary for a given day and for the one that today was in her assumption of what was about to be shared. And like clockwork, when she opened the door, for a few seconds, none of it matter. All of everything everywhere inconsequential besides the nervous way she held herself and the depth of her quiet brown eyes.
It was easy then, so breathlessly ease, to smile and make a joke about their matching clothing of all things.
The drive was easy and so was getting her out at the easiest hiking spot he'd picked with Alice the day before. He couldn't figure out which part of her was more insane when she revealed she still hadn't told her friends or her father she was here with him -- here, alone and unknown; here, alone and unknown, where she could be taken and buried and no one would know where to look if he lost control -- because she didn't want any trouble to come to him if things did go wrong.
There she was doing the inanely stupid things he could never predict. Protecting him and his family over herself, when they could take care of themselves. They'd had close calls. Sure, they would miss Forks perpetual ability to have a daytime life but moving was not all that odd after so many decades of it. They already had houses and places they could get to with no need of warning except the message to Run.
It was a great compliment. It was a great stupidity, as well.
Edward rid himself of the fashionable sweater once they were parked. He was going to reveal everything to her, so why perpetuate even the smallest of the lies. He didn't need the sweater to keep him warm, and it was comfortable to have the air back against his skin. Though he had nearly had what might relegate itself to a panic attack when he'd seen Bella's tortured expression after he lost the sweater and revealed the already unbuttoned sleeveless white shirt underneath it.
She was realizing it already. They hadn't even gotten to the meadow and she was realizing how wrong this was, how much danger she was in and how she shouldn't have agreed, shouldn't be here with him.
He should have felt better, but whatever was left of his metaphorical stomach and heart sank into his shoes as he told he would take her home. But she denied it, blaming it on the hike. It was a extreme terrain, but they had picked out the one that would give her the least cause for concern, and he did promise to take her home. Whether it was right this second or hours from now. He had to promise. Her. Himself. Carlisle's derelict God. Anyone or anything listening.
Something somewhere that might hold him to his word when she looked so conflicted.
But then she turned annoyed and told him if they were going five miles they'd better go, and Edward agreed despite himself.
The sun came out from the clouds while they made their way under the canopy of the forest cover. Edward did his best to make her hike as easy as possible, pulling back branches and holding back large fern plants, helping her over the fallen logs and the boulders that were all in the way of his mostly flat path. He thought about picking them up and throwing them from the way or offering to carry her there -- as it was brighter golden from the easy sun each time he could catch a glance at it in the far distance -- but it was all going to be over soon enough anyway.
He wanted more time. It was hardly surprising.
Yet he wanted it even more every time her heart beat spiked he touched her arm to help her.
Yet every nearness like it caused his chest to tighten with dark longing to rend her heart from her.
At least this way, this slow arduous impatient human pace walk, he could help her and they could talk just barely. He could hold on to the words she was willing to give as more questions flooded his mind. Things he hadn’t gotten to in the two previous day. Things he could keep with him after the next few hours were over. Pointless ones that were precious, like her in ability to keep pets without managing to kill them each time and giving up on the whole situation.
He tried to hold on to the words he was saying but each step was bringing them closer. At a hundred yards she started moving so much faster, being able to see it herself, racing forward toward the Meadow -- and her eventual change of heart on this whole situation. Following after her he noted the way her jacket fell when she took her steps and the different shades of brown in hair. And when she broke through the forest of ferns and--
Surrounded by the by the multicolored violets, with the sun infusing a glow into her pale skin, the stream in the distance burbling peacefully. Sun streams shifted across her skin and her hair as she glided through the meadow having forgotten him entirely in her awe, the liquid slowness and delicacy of her fragile life turned graceful in her loss of focus for rapture.
-- and he was glad he didn't have to breathe.
How could he compare to her, this shining creature of such intense, naive, fragile beauty, who the sun and life loved? How perverted was the universe he lived in that he had to use all of his will in every second not to end all of those things? How could he want to tell her the truth, when it would take her from the reach of the dark place where he lived forever?
And then Bella looked to him, innocent and golden awe suffusing her face, and beaconed for him to join her. She could have been plucked from any mythological story in that moment. The buttery yellow light surrounded her, gracing her with its presence, while she was framed by the bright green of the trees and the colors of the flowers. A creature of light holding a hand out to one of such grave darkness, so unknowing in her prostration of what she invited into the holy of her space. His heart, dead and still, ached with the moment of the truth, with the idea of watching her face fall when she would realize in a few seconds.
She took another step toward him, her smile softening comfortingly, and beaconed to him again.
Taking a deep breath, and cursing the fact he didn't think he could say no to anything she wanted now, even if it were his own ruination, Edward stepped into the sun.
How well he could manage being near her and not tearing her apart. How well he could manage to make sure no tiny insignificant error occurred, like her falling down and cutting herself. Alice was right in that much. The worry wasn't about what he might actively do -- emotionally and logically he couldn't fathom hurting her -- but what he might do if given the slightest cause to lose his tenuous control of the dark, starving part of him that did.
Still he found himself hopeful, even cheerful and impatient, as he waited for her to finish her morning routine. All of these little human things she felt necessary for a given day and for the one that today was in her assumption of what was about to be shared. And like clockwork, when she opened the door, for a few seconds, none of it matter. All of everything everywhere inconsequential besides the nervous way she held herself and the depth of her quiet brown eyes.
It was easy then, so breathlessly ease, to smile and make a joke about their matching clothing of all things.
The drive was easy and so was getting her out at the easiest hiking spot he'd picked with Alice the day before. He couldn't figure out which part of her was more insane when she revealed she still hadn't told her friends or her father she was here with him -- here, alone and unknown; here, alone and unknown, where she could be taken and buried and no one would know where to look if he lost control -- because she didn't want any trouble to come to him if things did go wrong.
There she was doing the inanely stupid things he could never predict. Protecting him and his family over herself, when they could take care of themselves. They'd had close calls. Sure, they would miss Forks perpetual ability to have a daytime life but moving was not all that odd after so many decades of it. They already had houses and places they could get to with no need of warning except the message to Run.
It was a great compliment. It was a great stupidity, as well.
Edward rid himself of the fashionable sweater once they were parked. He was going to reveal everything to her, so why perpetuate even the smallest of the lies. He didn't need the sweater to keep him warm, and it was comfortable to have the air back against his skin. Though he had nearly had what might relegate itself to a panic attack when he'd seen Bella's tortured expression after he lost the sweater and revealed the already unbuttoned sleeveless white shirt underneath it.
She was realizing it already. They hadn't even gotten to the meadow and she was realizing how wrong this was, how much danger she was in and how she shouldn't have agreed, shouldn't be here with him.
He should have felt better, but whatever was left of his metaphorical stomach and heart sank into his shoes as he told he would take her home. But she denied it, blaming it on the hike. It was a extreme terrain, but they had picked out the one that would give her the least cause for concern, and he did promise to take her home. Whether it was right this second or hours from now. He had to promise. Her. Himself. Carlisle's derelict God. Anyone or anything listening.
Something somewhere that might hold him to his word when she looked so conflicted.
But then she turned annoyed and told him if they were going five miles they'd better go, and Edward agreed despite himself.
The sun came out from the clouds while they made their way under the canopy of the forest cover. Edward did his best to make her hike as easy as possible, pulling back branches and holding back large fern plants, helping her over the fallen logs and the boulders that were all in the way of his mostly flat path. He thought about picking them up and throwing them from the way or offering to carry her there -- as it was brighter golden from the easy sun each time he could catch a glance at it in the far distance -- but it was all going to be over soon enough anyway.
He wanted more time. It was hardly surprising.
Yet he wanted it even more every time her heart beat spiked he touched her arm to help her.
Yet every nearness like it caused his chest to tighten with dark longing to rend her heart from her.
At least this way, this slow arduous impatient human pace walk, he could help her and they could talk just barely. He could hold on to the words she was willing to give as more questions flooded his mind. Things he hadn’t gotten to in the two previous day. Things he could keep with him after the next few hours were over. Pointless ones that were precious, like her in ability to keep pets without managing to kill them each time and giving up on the whole situation.
He tried to hold on to the words he was saying but each step was bringing them closer. At a hundred yards she started moving so much faster, being able to see it herself, racing forward toward the Meadow -- and her eventual change of heart on this whole situation. Following after her he noted the way her jacket fell when she took her steps and the different shades of brown in hair. And when she broke through the forest of ferns and--
Surrounded by the by the multicolored violets, with the sun infusing a glow into her pale skin, the stream in the distance burbling peacefully. Sun streams shifted across her skin and her hair as she glided through the meadow having forgotten him entirely in her awe, the liquid slowness and delicacy of her fragile life turned graceful in her loss of focus for rapture.
-- and he was glad he didn't have to breathe.
How could he compare to her, this shining creature of such intense, naive, fragile beauty, who the sun and life loved? How perverted was the universe he lived in that he had to use all of his will in every second not to end all of those things? How could he want to tell her the truth, when it would take her from the reach of the dark place where he lived forever?
And then Bella looked to him, innocent and golden awe suffusing her face, and beaconed for him to join her. She could have been plucked from any mythological story in that moment. The buttery yellow light surrounded her, gracing her with its presence, while she was framed by the bright green of the trees and the colors of the flowers. A creature of light holding a hand out to one of such grave darkness, so unknowing in her prostration of what she invited into the holy of her space. His heart, dead and still, ached with the moment of the truth, with the idea of watching her face fall when she would realize in a few seconds.
She took another step toward him, her smile softening comfortingly, and beaconed to him again.
Taking a deep breath, and cursing the fact he didn't think he could say no to anything she wanted now, even if it were his own ruination, Edward stepped into the sun.
