CF - Chapter Eleven: Underneath it All

Chapter 11: Underneath it All

"Maybe"

Everlast

Maybe you could tell me about your worst fear

Don't say it out loud, whisper in my ear

Ain't never felt nothing' like this here

Maybe you can see things a little more clear

Dry away your tear

Bella

After leaving Edward's Sunday, I spent the majority of the day with my parents at home. Charlie was looking much better than he had, returning to his awkward but loveable self.
The time I spent listening to Charlie talk about sports, his aggravation at being sick - which led to time away from work – and Renee talk about the store, it helped distract my mind from Saturday night… at least for a little while. Those moments where it was silent around the house, with me sitting on the couch waiting for someone other than myself to break through the quiet, I replayed what happened over and over with Edward.
I had let Edward touch me in a way no one ever had. Part of me was angry at myself for seeming so easy, because I wasn't easy, but with him I had a hard time saying no. Being with him, even if he still hid away a good portion of himself, it felt right. But as right as it felt, there was something so intense about the way Edward was with me. I believed it was most likely because he'd been so closed off, was still closed off, that he wasn't sure how to control himself emotionally.
And regardless of how much he made me want things I'd really never considered before, I had to draw a line. I had to, because once I gave myself to him, there was no getting back what I gave. I couldn't do that, not without knowing he'd accept me.
Renee had to touch base with the store later in the day, so I offered to prepare dinner. She declined, saying she'd just bring home pizza. Since I wouldn't be cooking, I decided to head upstairs to do the homework I should have already done. I was in the process of writing an essay on the Progressive Reform Movement for Government when my phone chimed. I lifted off my elbows and reached for it, grabbing it off my nightstand.
It was a text from Edward.
I'm still trying to decide how to punish you for earlier, but be sure I'll figure that shit out.
I chuckled at his assertiveness.
I'm sure you'll think of something, you know, with all that intelligence you have hidden away. -B
Goddamn right I'm intelligent.
With an ego to match. –B
Are you getting cocky with me, Swan?
God, I wasn't used to this side of Edward. It was so rare, but I enjoyed it when he showed it.
Now why would I go and do a thing like that? -B
I don't know, maybe a momentary lapse of fucking sense.
Now who's asking for a punishment? X-( -B
Are you offering?
Lol. I'm trying to do an essay right now for Government. You're distracting me. –B
Yeah, well, I'm sitting here on break bored as fuck, so I thought I'd bother you. I was, you know, thinking about you.
Oh, really? And what exactly were you thinking about? –B
Given that it was Edward I was having a conversation with, I knew that was a loaded question, but I still asked out of curiosity. Renee always said that curious was my middle name.
What you look like when you come.
I blushed.
Is that all you think about? -B
No. I thought about how you tasted, too.
What? He didn't-
You didn't taste me. –B
Yes, I did.
Oh, yeah, my neck. I thought for a minute you… uh… Never mind. -B
That's not what I meant, Bella.
If you're… I think I would have remembered you doing, well, you know. -B
What? Can't say the words? Besides, you were dozing off. You wouldn't have remembered shit.
I would have remembered you doing that. -B
You think going down on you is the only way to taste you like that?
Well, how else would you do it, then?-B
How do you think, Bella? I did have my hand on that pussy, and you did come on my finger.
Fielugusoeio -B
I hadn't realized I pressed keys and sent them until another text from him came through.
Enjoy doing that essay, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow. ;)
I could picture that smirk on his face. Damn him. He'd just delivered my punishment.

-OO-OO-

When I approached my locker, Alice was standing there waiting for me. The smile she gave once she saw me didn't meet her eyes.
"Hey," I said as I stopped beside her. "I didn't hear from you yesterday, did you forget to call me?" I teased.
"No, I just figured you'd like some time with your parents since you hadn't seen them all weekend."
I gripped the lock in my hand, giving her a furtive glance before twisting it to enter the combination. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I hung my coat up, then leaned against my locker door, facing her. "You don't seem yourself this morning. Are you sure you're okay?"
Her face scrunched up in thought, then she sighed. "You remember that conversation we had, the one about you and Edward talking to each other about your pasts?"
"Yeah," I answered hesitantly.
"I think maybe you should."
"I should what?"
She gazed down at her feet. "Tell him. About your heart, I mean."
"I know what you mean," I told her. "But I just-"
"Look," she cut in. "I woke up Saturday night, bad dream, and saw you weren't in bed. I can only assume you were with Edward. I don't want details or anything like that, but there's obviously something going on between you. Edward, he's different with you. The way he treats you isn't the way he treats the rest of us. He actually talks to you."
"Alice, I'm sorry." I felt unbelievably guilty, because I felt like I was monopolizing what little feeling Edward gave. "I didn't mean to upset-"
She waved me off with her hand. "I'm not blaming you, Bella. It's not your fault at all. I think it's great he's actually feeling something good, you know? He's been so lost for so long, and I miss my brother. I hurt for the guy I know he could be. If you could bring him…" She paused, staring up at me with hopeful eyes.
"You did something the rest of us have tried so hard to do, but couldn't. You reached him, even if it's just a tiny bit. It's just… he's really sketchy about a lot of things now. You never know what's going to set him off. I think… I think if he found out about your transplant before you told him yourself, he might be upset about it. I know it's none of my business, and I know Edward can be a real jerk, but he's still my brother, and I love him. I guess what I'm saying is, I really think you need to tell him the truth if you're going to be with him. And I think he should do the same with you."
I nodded limply. "I know you're right, and I know he needs to know."
"You need to tell him then."
"I know," I choked out. "I tried to tell him, but things ended up happening. And then he…" I wavered, but took in a deep breath as my eyes rested on the books in my locker. "I couldn't let him find out that way, not with his fingers. Edward… He just can't find out that way."
"What can't I find out?" I heard behind me.
The air seized in my lungs, my blood ran cold, and tears immediately pricked the corners of my eyes as I spun around and faced him. He'd heard me.
"Edward," I breathed as the treasonous tears glided down my flushed cheeks.
He stepped toward me, confusion causing his eyebrows to pull together. "What's going on, Bella? What can't I find out?"
I glanced around, horrified, to the other bodies passing in both directions of the hall. They were watching. Of course they would be. A girl crying called attention, and the way the tears rolled down my cheeks, the way I was grasping at my turtleneck like it would magically propel me out of the knee deep disaster I was standing in, made me stand out like one of those neon signs that glowed brightly at night, lighting up the darkened sky around it.
But it wasn't just my reaction. Edward was talking to me. That was news in itself.
"Please," I croaked out while lifting my hand to brush away the tears.
His eyes flickered over to where I was looking. He noticed the others watching. He turned back to me, leaning forward to whisper, fleeting emotion within his eyes. "I obviously wasn't supposed to hear your conversation, but the fact of the matter is I did. You can't just say that shit about me finding out something you're obviously hiding, then expect me to not want to know what it is when it's about me. You need to talk to me, Bella."
"I… can't-"
"Bella, I want to-"
"Edward," Alice interrupted harshly. It was the first time I'd ever heard her raise her voice to him, but the way she stood grounded showed she was willing to risk a verbal lashing. "You overheard her, and I get you want to know, but don't you push her to give you what you want in this hallway with all these people watching. Don't you do that to her."
His eyes lifted from me to her. He gaped at her, his jaw strained, lips set in a tight line. I was waiting for him to berate her, but instead, he exhaled a heavy breath and was once again staring at me. "Come outside with me."
I glanced around. "But we're already inside, and class will-"
"We have time," he cut in. "Just come outside with me for a few minutes."
I nodded numbly, not even sure why I was agreeing, and grabbed my coat, saying goodbye to Alice – who remained at my locker watching Edward and me cautiously – before following Edward out the doors to the parking lot.
Neither of us said a word, not until we were down the stairs and standing beside another student's car because that's where Edward abruptly stopped. He searched the lot, then spun around, immediately looking at my face.
"So?" he questioned. "What am I not supposed to know, Bella?"
I lowered my head, my hair practically blanketing my face now, wishing I could crawl within myself and hide. I think I felt colder inside than the chill of air around us. "Can we just-"
"You don't get to do that shit right now," he interrupted, lifting my chin so I couldn't hide my eyes. "Don't fucking hide from me. Not now." He was actually pleading with me. "I heard you. I heard you say there was shit I couldn't find out, and I want to know what it is."
"Please don't," I whispered, hot tears of anguish sliding down my cheeks.
He shook his head. "Why are you hiding from me?"
"It can wait until after school. We'll talk then."
"I'm not going to sit and let this shit fucking eat at me all day. We'll just-" he paused, glancing toward his car, then gripped my hand like he meant to take me to it. His eyes lowered to our joined hands, widening, before making their way back to mine. "You're fucking shaking. Did something happen to… What the fuck is going on, Bella?"
This was the first time I noticed actual fear in Edward's eyes. My reactions were no doubt freaking him out.
"I can't do this here, Edward. Not here at school."
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple visibly rising with the motion. "Then we'll leave right now and talk, okay? We can't just let… We agreed we wouldn't hide from each other, we'd be honest, but you're already keeping shit from me, and I want to know why."
I felt a rush of anger surge through me. Maybe it was wrong to be angry, because he was right, but I was still angry because I wasn't the only one concealing anything. It was a two-way street.
"That's rich coming from you," I spat. "Because I'm pretty positive I'm not the only one keeping secrets, Edward Cullen."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
The green of his irises darkened with ire, nearly faltering the words I was about to speak. I looked away, clearing my throat. "You can't tell me you have no secrets from me. You'd be lying if you said otherwise."
He grabbed my chin, turning me to face him. "I might have secrets and shit, Bella, but none that involve you. The one you're trying to avoid discussing, that involves me."
"I told you," I started, swallowing roughly to quelch the nausea rolling my stomach. "I can't talk about this here."
"But you're going to talk about it, right?"
"Well, I… We're at school."
He reached for my hand, clasping his cool fingers around mine, and pulled me toward his car. "Then we'll leave and discuss it somewhere else."
"We can't just leave," I gasped.
"Watch and fucking see," he answered firmly, his grip tightening on my hand.
I pulled against him, aiming to stop his attempt at getting me to his car. "Edward, we can't just leave."
He turned around, standing just inches from me. Even with the cool air whipping around us, I could feel the heat of his body permeating mine. "Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?" he growled. "This right here…" He pointed between him and me. "This is important enough to deal with right now."
I blinked perpetually, startled by the edge to his voice. I wasn't afraid of him, only afraid of what would happen once he knew about my scar and how I'd gotten it. Even still, as the fear that what we'd begun was coming to an end shredded its way icily through my veins, every cell of my being recognized him, recognized how close he was, and sparked heatedly, demanding the few inches of space between us to cease to exist. I bit into my lip as I attempted to curb my body's reaction to being so close to him. "We're already at school. We'll talk, but it can wait until-"
He stepped even closer, putting his body flush against mine. He stared down at me, his warm breath ghosting across my skin as he spoke. "Yeah, and we're already late, so what's the difference? We might as well make the most of it, right? You have shit to tell me, and I think while we have the opportunity to discuss it alone, we need to fucking take it."
I knew he was right, about the lack of time alone, anyway; we'd both be working later. He needed to know the truth, I knew that, and given what we'd already done together – I blamed my traitorous body and his unbelievable dirty talk, to which I almost wondered if he had a doctorate in that subject – it was only a matter of time before he found out.
I mean, the hourglass had already tipped the moment we decided to give in to what was happening between us, but now that he'd overheard me admitting I was keeping something from him, the sand ran dry. I was out of time.
I didn't want him finding out any way but me telling him, yet I knew once I did I'd lose him. And God I didn't want to lose him. As frustrating as he was, I wanted to keep him… if I had him at all.
Everyone had a breaking point, and my baggage on top of his was most certainly a breaking point.
But it was fight or flight time, right? Be a coward or hold my head up and bare my soul.
I guess if I was going to lose him, I may as well do it with my back straight, standing on my own two feet and with some dignity. But I was scared shitless. I was so damn scared to open myself up like that. Once he knew, if he looked at me with disgust, I'd-
Never let him break you, the voice inside my head chimed. Your own heart couldn't take you out. Don't let him.
Too little too late, I mentally replied back.
He was going to break me. Of that I was positive.
"Alright," I acquiesced. "But maybe I should drive my truck?" I didn't want to be stranded if things ended up going how I expected them to.
"Why is that? Are you thinking about running, Bella?" He was gauging my reaction.
I shook my head. "That's not… I wasn't-"
"We'll take my car." The finality in his tone left no room for argument.
We cleared the distance to his car, his heavy steps echoing off the hard pavement, and he opened the passenger door for me, shutting it after I climbed inside.
Once he was seated behind the wheel, he started the car, immediately turning on the heat. "It shouldn't take long to warm up. The motor isn't completely cold yet."
It was casual talk, mostly to clear the air of tension, but despite the effort behind it, it was still fruitless.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he pulled out of the lot.
His eyes remained on the road. "To my house. Carlisle's working a double shift, so he won't be home until late, and Esme will be in Port Angeles until five helping some friend with their shop."
"Are you sure we should go there?"
His head briefly turned my way, but it was long enough to see the exasperation on his face. "Bella, I'm not sitting in my fucking car, feeling caged in, while having a conversation with you that's obviously going to be heavy. I'd rather do that shit at my house where I can at least move around."
I shouldn't be surprised by his reaction. I supposed I'd be responding the same way if I were him, but it still hurt.
"Why are you being like that?" I whispered.
"Why are you being so secretive?" he shot back, and boy did the tone of his voice sting. I blinked away the tears that formed, but he saw them. "Fuck, I'm sorry, okay? I just… I don't like feeling like this. There's this weight on my chest right now, and things just started for you and me. I don't like feeling like I'm going to los-" he paused, running his free hand through his mussed hair. "I'm not doing this in the car. Let's talk about shit when we get to my house."
My head dropped forward, focusing on the way my hands fumbled nimbly in my lap. It was the only thing I could do to try to soothe the nerves. Talking was out of the question, considering I was about to do a lot of that. I needed the quiet, but minus the trepidation it provoked. I was pretty much left with no option but to drift along in my own anxiety. I wondered how it would play out if the roles were reversed.
They are, my mind reminded. He just doesn't realize you know.
After he pulled up in front of the house, he let the car idle for a moment before he turned it off. I opened my door first, he got out right after.
He never said a word as we walked toward the backdoor, and he remained silent as he inserted the key to unlock the door. He threw his keys on the counter top when we stepped inside, the heavy metal making a clanking sound against the marble, but his feet never stopped until he reached the fridge. He opened the door, grabbing two waters, then started moving again.
I thought we'd end up in the living room, but he moved right to the stairs, heading up them. I followed behind him, biting my lip as the unease soured my stomach even more.
He opened his bedroom door, allowing me to go in first. I took a few steps inside, gazing around the room. He had a full size bed against the right wall, a nightstand beside it. To the left of the bed was a closet. Sitting against the sectioned window that was nearly the expanse of the far wall was a small wooden desk, cluttered with papers, a desk lamp and a laptop. Across from his bed was a television stand lined with electronics. Adjacent to the stand on the left side was a bathroom, a book shelf bound with books and music on the right. The only thing unkempt about the room was his desk.
"You can have a seat on the bed." He strode past me toward his desk where he hung his jacket on the computer chair.
I stared at the back of his head as I shuffled toward the bed. My shaking hands went immediately to my lap as I sat down along the edge. A few seconds later, he was seated beside me. He was watching me, but didn't say a word, not until I finally turned my head to look at him.
He handed me one of the water bottles, and I gripped it tightly within my hands before setting it on the nightstand. "What's going on, Bella?"
"Right to the point," I sighed.
"We're passed all the shit, so what else is there?"
I glanced around, like I'd find something in his room that would somehow save me. "This is the first time I've been in your room. I didn't realize it was so big."
I caught his movement from the corner of my eye. He gripped my chin, making me face him. "Stop avoiding the question."
I inhaled a stunted breath, my eyes watering over. "I don't know if I can do this," I whispered.
"Well, we aren't leaving here until we get this shit figured out between us."
"You're so bossy," I mumbled.
He smirked. "That shit may be true for the most part, but this is worth being bossy over, so let's talk, alright?"
"You won't want… I really should have brought my truck." I bit my lip nervously, clenching my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.
"You said that earlier," he remarked. "So tell me why you keep saying that."
"Because you won't want me here."
"Why?"
I turned my head away. "Because you won't."
"Don't do that. Don't hide from me, Bella." His finger was under my chin, urging me to look at him again. "Tell me why."
My bottom lip was trembling as much as my hands. "Because I'm not…"
"You're not what?"
"Don't make me stand on that ledge alone, Edward," I pleaded. I felt a lone tear escape and travel down my cheek. "Please don't do that."
"I don't even know what fucking ledge we're on here, Bella." He pinched the bridge of his nose before running his hands through his hair while shifting on the bed. "I don't know what's going on. I'm trying to figure it out, but you just won't give, and it's driving me goddamn crazy. You said earlier there was something I couldn't find out, now you're saying once I do I'll want you gone, but I'm saying that you need to let me decide that shit."
I remained silent.
"Are you… are you in some kind of trouble?"
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that question, considering I basically didn't go anywhere before moving to Forks, and even now, I mostly just went to school and work. "No, I'm not in any kind of trouble."
"Well, did someone hurt you?" He sounded pissed when he asked that question. "Did you see something you shouldn't? Are you in that witness protection program or some shit?"
I actually did laugh this time. "No, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it? And why can you tell Alice but not me?"
I scooted back, pulling my right leg up, resting my hand on my calf. "It's about me, okay? It's just… it's personal."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Bella, I had my fucking hand down your pants. My finger was inside you, so I think we're way past personal."
"That's different. This is… it's made me-" I couldn't continue.
"Fuck, Bella," he growled. His patience was wearing thin. "I'm really trying here. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. I don't want to be yelling at you and shit, but I feel like we're going in circles here. Everything you say is cryptic, and I have no idea what to make of it. I need you to talk to me."
"I'm scared," I choked out.
"You need to trust me."
If my own fear hadn't been eating at me, maybe I would have recognized the significance of his statement.
I wiped at my tears. "I'm not… uh…"
"Bella." Another plea.
"I'm not whole, okay!" I shouted.
His eyes widened, like he was trying to process what I'd just said so he could understand the meaning. "What? I don't know what you mean."
I stood from the bed, moving toward the window. I didn't care that the tears were falling relentlessly now. I was hoping the ache they carried with them would swallow me up.
As I gazed out at the mass of trees behind his house, littered with fallen snow, I wished I was standing anywhere but where I was. But no matter how much I wished to be anywhere else, I was right there in Edward's bedroom where he was waiting for an answer.
"My heart," I whispered. God, it hurt to say the word, to open my soul and let him see things inside me I didn't want him of all people to see. Not him. He'd told me I was beautiful, and that had been a hard pill to swallow at first. I'd never been beautiful to anyone before, but he'd made me feel beautiful, and I just wanted to be beautiful to him a little while longer. Unfortunately, once I started, I couldn't stop. That's what happens when you bare your soul. It comes bleeding out, demanding to be heard. "It's not really mine."
I felt him behind me. My body was so damn responsive to his. "I really don't understand what you're telling me here."
I turned around, swallowing down my sobs, but I refused to wipe away the tears now. I was going to own my grief. "The heart in my chest, I wasn't born with it."
"What?" I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets.
I turned back to the window. I felt a sense of ease, like I wasn't boxed in, while surveying the forest beyond Edward's yard. It was such a vast, open space, and I mentally projected myself there. "Because of Cardiomyopathy, meaning my heart was diseased, I had to have a transplant. I have a scar down the center of my chest that starts below my breasts and stops a few inches under my collar bone. I have to take immunosuppressive medication everyday for it. Once you have a transplant, you deal with the repercussions for the rest of your life. You have a reminder every day.
"My illness, it's why my parents and I moved here, why they took over the store. They… uh… they went bankrupt trying to take care of me, and they needed the money."
"You're not… you're not dying now, are you?" I heard the strain in his voice, especially when he said the word 'dying'. I imagined the color was probably drained from his face, too.
I shook my head, making out his reflection in the glass. I mused on how my soul was literally as see through as he appeared to be in the window. "I'm not dying, Edward. Not today, anyway. That's why I had the transplant."
"When did you-"
"Almost two years ago," I answered flatly.
"Carlisle is a doctor and shit, but I don't know much about medicine. But I do… uh… I do remember hearing people who've had a transplant don't live all that long after. Is that right?"
"It varies with each person. There have been recipients who have lived longer than ten years. There's one living now who had a transplant thirty years ago."
"Yeah, but you're going to..." He sounded so distant.
"Die? Eventually, yes. We all die, Edward. When it's our time, we die, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."
"God could change it." His tone was bitter.
"It's not that simple."
He cursed, and I sighed, turning around. The shoe just dropped. "I can't even…. Fuck!"
As I stared at him, I recognized what I was seeing there. "I see the look in your eye, and I know exactly what that means. I knew exactly what would happen once I told you. Now that you know I'm not perfect, that I'll never be perfect, you can tell me to leave."
"What? I can't believe… Look, I'm not going to say it doesn't shock the hell out of me, because it does, but you're seriously misreading shit."
"Well, if it's pity I see, then I really don't need that either."
"I don't fucking pity you, Bella. I just don't do well with… I'm not good with death." His obvious disdain for death was evident in the way he said the word.
Was that the kiss-off I was waiting for? I assumed so, I knew I should leave now, but I responded to him, even with the bitter taste of dread on my tongue. I cared too much already. "A lot of people aren't good with death, but it's a part of life."
I watched his eyes shift to the window, and as I stared at him, I really saw him now, saw how my truth drew out the vulnerability of his. He had a heavy heart, one that weighed him down by the pain he carried inside. Because of that, because of what he knew about me now, he wasn't going to be able to let me in. That was the ledge I was talking about. I'd jumped it alone, and I'd land it alone, too.
"I'll go," I uttered.
He didn't say anything as I moved past him, each step heavier than the last. How ironic that was, considering I felt like I was leaving more of myself behind with each step away from him.
I reached the door knob, gripping it within my shaking hand, when the sound of his voice draped over me. "I don't want you to go, Bella."
My hand gripped the door handle tighter. He came up beside me, removing my hand, clasping his around mine, then pulled me back to the bed. Since Saturday, he'd been so different with me, more resolved somehow.
"I don't know what the fuck to say. I got shit going on in my head that's not about… I just know I don't want you to leave. Letting you walk out feels wrong."
"You don't have to say anything. This isn't your burden to carry."
"Is that why you didn't want to tell me?"
I shook my head. "I didn't want to know what you'd think of me afterward."
He rubbed his forehead, like he was trying to massage away the creases that began during our conversation. "So you thought I'd hate you or some shit?"
"I'm scarred, Edward. My body will always be imperfect. I refuse to look at you and see disgust because of that."
"No one's perfect. We all have scars, Bella."
I hmphed. "Not like this they don't."
"You'd be surprised," he mumbled. I didn't answer back, because he was right. Some scars you couldn't see, they were soul deep, but that didn't mean they didn't maim you. Edward's scars were soul shredders.
He observed me for a moment before scooting closer to me. "Let me see it."
"What?" I gripped my turtleneck.
He was determined, that was obvious. "I want to see what you think is so damn hideous."
I shook my head frantically. I felt panicked. "I can't. I'm not ready to sh-"
He placed his hand against my chest, and I flinched. "Then let me touch it. You're not ready to show me, I get that, but let me touch it at least."
"Edward, I-"
"Let me," he pleaded. "I'm an asshole, Bella, we know that, but I'm not a fucking asshole."
His eyes stayed with mine, but his hand slowly trailed down until it reached the hem of my shirt. When his fingers moved underneath my shirt, coming in contact with my skin, I tensed. I had to close my eyes the further up they moved because I couldn't bring myself to look at him out of fear of what I might see.
As his fingers grazed the bottom of my scar, my breath caught. I felt suffocated, like I was being held under water. I was terrified of what he might be thinking.
He trailed up the expanse of the scar slowly, like he was trying to learn each blemished edge. He was quiet for such a long time, but he kept touching, kept exploring my scar.
"It's soft," he whispered.
"It's ugly," I croaked.
My emotions made me so transparent, and I was failing miserably at shutting them down. I hated that because I needed some kind of dignity to hold on to if I had to walk out of his house not wanted anymore.
The silence grated my insides. He was so quiet, and I was mentally on bended knee, begging for some kind of response, regardless of what it might be. Finally, I received one.
"It's part of you. And I happen to think you're fucking beautiful."
That final wall blocking my emotions crumbled, scattering into thousands of pieces, and I became a sobbing mess. But Edward wrapped himself around me gently, promising that he didn't see me any differently, that my scar wouldn't make me any less beautiful to him, that he meant what he said when he told me he wanted me however I was.
I was wrong, the shoe hadn't fallen yet, but that didn't mean it still wouldn't.

-OO-OO-

It was the following Friday, over a week since I told Edward about my transplant, and I sat at the lunchroom table across from him, picking at my food when I wasn't watching him from my peripherals. The most physical he'd been with me was holding my hand, and that was mostly when we were alone. Everyone pretty much knew there was something going on between us – I ended up with some nasty remarks aimed in my direction from Bree Roberts, some of her friends and strawberry blonde while at work – because we didn't deny it, but neither of us were really comfortable with PDA. He was, however, different with me, and the change in him had me on edge.
It wasn't about sex, because I wasn't really sure that I was ready to take that step with him, but shit, I expected something more than what was happening or lack thereof. I'd just appreciate warm arms around me, embracing me in a strong hug, instead of the loose grab he gave. He wasn't being himself. He wasn't being Edward.
In my mind, that was conclusive to him being disgusted by me. The signs were there, what with the whole barely touching thing. But I'd catch him staring at me, looking me up and down or watching my lips while I talked, and I'd swear when I stole a glance into his eyes before he had time to blink or turn away, there was hunger within them, like he wanted so much more than hand holding.
He was like a coin, but I never knew which side was flipped up, and the second I thought maybe I had it figured out, he'd do something to prove me wrong. I was so damned confused by the way he was acting.
I kept waiting for things to change back, thinking maybe he just needed some time to adjust to what he learned about me, because it was a bit shocking to learn, but I wasn't so sure it was that anymore. I mean, it had been eleven days. Maybe it had to do with me, that he couldn't get past the scar. But I was still the same person I'd been before I told him.
I sighed loudly as I dropped my fork on my tray. Everyone's eyes landed on me, but I avoided only one set, though I could feel him watching me.
"Hey, spitfire," Emmett said. "You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah, just having a bit of an off day." I stood up, grabbing my tray. "I'll see you guys later, I'm going to class."
I still felt Edward's eyes on me as I left the lunchroom.
As soon as Edward took his seat beside me in Biology he leaned to his side, whispering, "What's wrong with you?"
I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the front of the class. "I'm fine. We'll talk later." The sound of the bell saved me from any more communicating. There was no way I was having that discussion with him in school, and thankfully, he didn't push me to.
I didn't have to work that evening, so I didn't see him again until I arrived at the store to pick up my check. I waited to do so until right before he got off work. Not knowing what was going on with him had pretty much frayed my last nerve, eating at my insides, and I needed to know where we stood. I had to know before stopping myself from falling in love with him was no longer a possibility. It probably already was, anyway.
I followed behind him as he was leaving, heading through the backroom to clock out. I waited until he punched his timecard and placed it back in its slot before I started speaking.
"Am I that disgusting to you that you don't want to do anything but occasionally hold my hand?"
He stopped where he stood, spinning around. "What?" he asked incredulously.
I stepped toward him. "I know I'm not beautiful, and my scar makes it-"
He pushed me toward the exit, slamming the door hard behind him, and he didn't stop until we were shielded behind the far wall of the building from prying eyes.
"Let's get one thing straight," he demanded. He was towering over me, eyes blazing green fire. "You are fucking beautiful, so don't say that shit. Your scar doesn't change that."
"If that were true, why don't you really hug me?"
He turned his head, giving me a sideways glance. "I hug you."
I shook my head. "No, you kinda just place your arms on me, lean in, then pull away. You don't have to be with me, Edward, if that's what this is about. If you don't want me, then-"
The next thing I knew, I was pinned between the brick wall of the building and Edward's body. "You think I don't want you?" he growled. "I want you so fucking bad I'm about to lose my goddamn mind, Bella."
My eyes were on his mouth as I spoke. "Then why are you…" I trailed off.
He took a step back, but lifted his hand, wrapping one of my curls around his pointer finger, his knuckles lightly brushing against my breast. "I can't… I don't want to hurt you."
"Are you… are you serious right now? You're treating me just like my parents, like I'm an invalid who's too weak to be touched," I accused. "I had a transplant, Edward, but that doesn't mean I'm fucking breakable."
He was becoming frustrated. I knew that feeling all too well. "You might not be breakable, but I… In case you haven't noticed, I have a hard time controlling myself around you, even more now that I've already touched you. I want you too much. That's what makes this so fucking hard. I've never felt like… I won't be the one to cause you any pain, or do something that might-"
"Oh, yeah, because this is about protecting me, right? You're such a martyr for it."
"I'm trying to explain why I-"
"I don't need you to explain," I interjected. "I get it. I've been introduced to your explanation for nearly two weeks now. But just so you get it, I don't need your protection, I don't need you or anyone else telling me what I can or can't handle. You said you wouldn't treat me differently, but you are. I'm so tired of that. I think I know what my body can manage, so you can take your protection and shove it right up your ass!"
There was no longer any distance between us. His eyes smoldered as he looked down at me, his lips turning up on one side in a mocking smirk. "You have no idea the shit going on inside my head that I want to do to you, but I don't want to hurt you."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please."
"You don't get it, do you? You make me need you in a way that I've never needed anything." He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, his nose flaring with the effort. "I fucking crave you. Touching you in any way is too tempting, and I won't be able to stop myself, not when I now know what it's like just to hold you. I don't want to be the cause of something-"
"You're being ridiculous, and it's only going to push me away. I'm not going to fall apart in your arms."
"The way I feel about you, Bella, I won't be gentle if I touch you."
I stood defiant against him, raising my voice. "Maybe I don't want you to be."
"Don't test me," he warned.
"Don't be a prude," I countered.
I knew I was pushing him, but damn it, I was seriously pissed off, and I was tired of being treated like a child, like I was some delicate china doll that would shatter into a million pieces so easily.
His face flushed red with anger. "Did you just call me a fucking prude?"
I could actually hear his control snapping, so I shrugged, adding, "Well, if the shoe fits." as the final blow.
Before I had time to finish exhaling, the button of my jeans was popped, and one of Edward's hands was down the front of them, pushing underneath the elastic of my boyshorts. When his fingers grazed my heated flesh, I moaned. "Would a prude do that shit?" His voice was gritty, the tone of his voice and touch of his hand igniting a need so deep within me, I felt like I might combust. He pushed a finger inside me. "Would a prude fuck you with their finger?"
I closed my eyes. My senses were on overdrive, every part of my body heating further, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. His lips were on mine, mimicking the pace of his finger, which was quite frenzied. He never stopped until I was crying out into his mouth as I climaxed.
I could almost swear that he whispered, "How do you… You're all I want." as he pulled his lips from mine, but I wasn't positive I heard right, considering I was still seeing spots behind my eyes; I was lacking a bit of coherency.
He pressed his forehead against mine, his breaths coming out in quick bursts as he groaned out like he was in pain. "Are you… happy now, Bella?" I didn't answer him, other than whimpering when he removed his hand from inside my jeans. "Button your jeans, we're leaving."
My eyes snapped open. "What? Where are we going?"
I'd barely pushed the button through the fabric to clasp my jeans shut when he grabbed my hand and pulled me beside him. "You made your point, you had to be stubborn, you couldn't let shit go, and you pushed me too fucking far. Congratulations, you're about to get exactly what you want."