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[themidnightson]

He's tried. He knows he can't stay home yet, and he's already proven he can't stay there, and he's spent hours convincing himself it wasn't right to go to her like this. Especially not like this, in this state. It'd be disgraceful. Improper. Imbecilic.




Somehow he stills ends up, on his knees besides her bed, his arms crossed over her blankets at the very edge and his cheek resting on his layered hands. His body is an excruciating riot of fire from not having hunted since before the whole incident, but even in the agony of her scent he's loath to leave the first place he's felt he could breathe and think again in days. For any definition of those ideas.

And so he stays there. Not touching her for her safety, at war with his nature and his recent memories, enraptured by her slow breaths and the flicker of her eyelids and the soft words she murmurs from somewhere so very, very far away from him.

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[themidnightson]

He'll never physically need to sigh, but the lot of it, all together, where would or could he even. His finger tighten against his palms at his side once, twice, unnoticed by him.

How is he not supposed to want to go to her, sitting there, watching him casually, with her pajamas and her mussed up hair, asking the astute question? (Presenting herself as the perfect, vulnerable feast?)

It'll look like a blink, because he doesn't think about moving slowly. So a second later he's sitting at the far corner of her bed, nearest where he'd been standing, then. "I don't know how long I will be able to manage this."

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"Okay."

It's really that simple; she trusts him not to hurt her, even if that meant leaving as unannounced as he'd shown up here tonight.

"I promise not to get offended if you leave mid-explanation."

And then she waits.

[themidnightson]

She takes it all so casually. Everything he continues to tell her, every honesty about the complications. About the fact her life is imperiled by his presence. Even more right now than normal.

He wasn't even sure if he could but he took a breath in, letting his eyes drift closed as it ripped through him. Defining and redefining pain. More physical and instinctual than all the things his hands had done in his absence from her.

Focus. "I was away for a few days because of Milliways."

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

She nods; she'd figured as much.

"Did your door disappear?"

She wants to ask him if he's aware that the bar serves blood, but she doesn't think it's a great idea to mention the b-word right this second. She's still watching him carefully, more interested than afraid.

[themidnightson]

"No." It's a simple word, even when his expression is not.

No. No, he'd had his door all along. The entire time.

His eternal reminder of her on the others side.

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"Oh."

She frowns again, trying to guess at what could've been enough to keep him from leaving even long enough to eat.

"Did... something happen to your family?" she ventured, thinking at once that she must be wrong; he wouldn't be this calm if anything too bad had happened, right?

[themidnightson]

Or he is only this calm because something that bad did.








"Yes."

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

Bella's intake of breath is sharp, shocked; she'd only guessed at the worst because doing so usually meant you were safe from it.

"Oh my God, Edward, what-- who--?!"

She instinctively reached out for him, realizing only after her hand touched his arm that she'd even moved at all. She stilled once she realized, but didn't move away - she couldn't bear distance and not-knowing all at once.

"What happened?"

[themidnightson]

Even in a room laced and layered with her scent having her rush at him -- she doesn't notice when she's staring up into his face and he's looking down at hers, willing himself not to breathe or move suddenly -- but Edward's fingers dug into the fabric at his thigh.

His eyes shifted to her hand. His expression slowly becoming softer as his jaw was unclenching. He swallowed the pooling venom, tried to swallow the urge and the knowledge of how very easily he could break her just in retreating too quickly as well as anything else.

He can't say no one is hurt, so he says what will be true sooner or later; "Everyone is fine now. They're all back at the house."

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"Oh. That's...good."

That didn't really clear anything up, but Bella let herself relax imperceptibly; she didn't even know the rest of the Cullens other than a few conversations with Carlisle, but the thought of something being able to hurt any of them was mind-boggling enough all on its own, even if she hadn't been momentarily terrified for Edward's sake.

"Was there some trouble in Milliways?"

[themidnightson]

He moved very carefully. Creating a loop with his pointer and thumb that circled her wrist when he detached it from his arm. It had been simply to make her stop touching him, from being so close, even as touching her laid to waste his barely sane plans.

How easy it would be to break her wrist. (How tempting.)
Or raise to touch against his lips. (That she was concerned.)

The tremor of her pulse, minute replica of the furious heart beat calming from the shock of his admission, whispering against his finger tips did not help. He shifted the one hand under hers, closing his other hand over top hers. As though not looking at it saved him from either thought, all of them.

(As though it didn't trap it in the even greater cage of both his hands.)


"Yes." Trouble. In Milliways. Trouble -- in Volterra.

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

And there ended the scope of Bella's ability to guess -- in Milliways, literally anything could've happened. So she stopped trying, and instead found herself studying his face, searching for signs of... something. What he needed from her; what he'd accept.

"You don't have to tell me now," she said, finally, and her hand tightened ever so slightly on the cool hand beneath it. Just so he'd know she was here, and fine with just being.

Everyone was okay; the details could be filled in later.

[themidnightson]

The heat of her tiny hand squeezing his was such an interesting sensation. Constant warmth without permeation. A tiny perfect part of her he'd really like to stop considering things like the average blood flow through in a minute given her medical statistics.

He tilted his head, looking back to her face at her words. He let out a breath not sure what to say to that even. He's spent so long deciding, not deciding, having to control, having to take care, and figure out.

Even here, especially here with her, he needs to keep doing it.



And it's the last thing he wants to be doing anymore.

Which he doesn't keep from his expression here.

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

Bella looked back at him questioningly, unsure how to take his not-quite-silence.

"... Or I could just guess every kind of trouble that I think Milliways could come up with until you tell me to knock it off?"

This suggestion was offered with a very small hint of a smile, because if she could get him to call her ridiculous then maybe she could believe everything was okay enough to be patient for a while.

[themidnightson]

"That would take you more time than you have."

He isn't sure if he means tonight, or in her life.

Which is not a though he wants to even follow through on.


"The place seems attracted to abounding laudable impossibilities."

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, but I have a really vivid imagination. I can start with the really improbable and work my way back."

It's very nearly a serious threat; just ask her about the list of wild theories she came up with in that whole month in which they didn't speak.

[themidnightson]

Bella gets an incredulous, possibly falteringly indulgent, expression.

He's very sure she could not guess what they'd been through, but he can not help wanting to know more of what she is thinking. Even if he is the cause.

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

Bella recognizes that expression! Hooray for at least a glimmer of normalcy?

She considers for a few moments, not overly concerned with guessing anywhere near the truth just yet. Distraction would do for now.

"Rosalie got turned into something really not cute and publicly threatened the Landlord after she got changed back, and it took your entire family to calm her down and convince Security that she was just kidding?"

She'd totally believe it of Rosalie, considering the death glare she got once for just sitting there.

[themidnightson]

Edward can't help the snort, even when it sends scalding air racing through his throat and lungs. His hands tighten so microscopically she wouldn't notice it, as he tried to stop from clenching them around what would be as easily smashed as a bubble.

"That is absurd." Which isn't cruelly, but an agreement that it is apparently vivid. (And not wholly off from some elements of prediction.)

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"Told you."

Bella feels vaguely triumphant at this dubious accomplishment, though her expression turns serious shortly thereafter.

"But to be honest, I'm not sure I can actually get more believable. I just can't imagine what would threaten any of you."

[themidnightson]

"We're not invulnerable, Bella."
And wasn't she just the stunning proof of that, too.
Even at this very second, hovering over the edge of sanity.

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

"I know."

In theory, she does.

"It's just a little hard to conceive of something bad enough to do... whatever it's done."

It was clear that whatever had happened, it had been bad enough. But Bella tended to characterize threats as malicious outsiders, never once thinking to look any closer to home. That limited the possibilities she had to work with.

[themidnightson]

He did it really without thinking. Thinking would have stopped him. (Yet. Had it really ever before?) He reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers along her cheekbone, as if it was gossamer.

Trying to convince himself he could pull back at any second.
Trying to convince himself it would be lunacy to lean closer.

"I'll be fine. It was simply long, and surprising."