Five days since Valentine’s Day.

Five beautifully perfect days and nights where everything fit, and everything fell into place with an unbelievable precision and grace. Edward and I were smug and smitten with rarely an issue arising. It was like floating on a cloud.

And now there were tears trailing down my red cheeks as I sat on my bed - inside the room I never used - and watched Esme pace in front of me with her head down and her brows furrowed deeply. I shifted my gaze down to my lap, noting the blue flannel pajama pants I hadn’t even removed yet, and bit my lip hard to suppress the sob threatening to escape.

I was wondering where everything went so terribly wrong.

This whole mess must have been my entire fault. Edward was probably beating himself up about it at that very moment as he sat next door, but he wasn’t the one to blame. Maybe no one was to blame. Maybe it was just another one of those cosmic events that sought me out to destroy my serenity. As if the universe could see how happy and content I was, and it decided that just wouldn’t do.

I sighed deeply into my lap and eased myself down onto my back, lifting my hands up to cover my face while I allowed my thoughts to drift to the morning after Valentine’s Day.

There’s nothing like waking up next to the person you love after a long night of unicorn induced coma. There was no awkwardness between Edward and me. Just sleepy eyed glances and lazy grins as we kissed at the doorway and out tongues intermingled languidly. Comfortably.

Alice drove me to school, offering me the PG version of her night with Jasper, which ended up being no more than three sentences. I was guessing the MA rated version would take hours to recite because she looked downright exhausted, likely having stayed up the entire night and come home so early for the sake of appearances.

When we arrived at school, Edward stood casually against his car waiting for me, sending me a lopsided grin as he pushed off his door and strode lithely to me.

He had a little scratch on his nose that made me quirk an eyebrow at him before he put his arm around my shoulder and blanketed me in his electricity. He just narrowed his eyes in Jasper’s direction and walked me to class.

Despite the, apparently Jasper induced nose graze, even Edward seemed… happy as we walked the halls. It was a subtle thing that the casual observer wouldn’t take time to notice, but he wasn’t glaring at anyone. He was just looking straight ahead and steering me around them silently.

Lunch that day threatened to ruin the perfection streak, however. Edward had walked me to the lunch room like he always did. But as we reached the table where everyone else was already seated, all eyes turned to us.

Emmet arched one dark eyebrow while his arm hung lazily over Rose’s petite shoulders. “What happened to your nose?” He asked in a generally curious tone, leaning his chair back on two legs precariously.

Edward grunted and sat us down in our usual spot, narrowing his eyes once again at the individual occupying the seat in front of him. “Fucking Jazz’s stupid ass.” He grumbled, glowering at Jasper while I moved close to his side like always.

Suddenly his whole body stiffened, gaining my attention as I peeked up at him and removed my hood. He groaned softly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, as if he were bracing himself for something.

And when nothing happened, he opened one eye, casting it at Rose, who sat reading a book and tapping a pencil on the wooden table top in a gesture of boredom.

He snorted. “What the fuck, Hale. I basically handed you that one on a silver platter.” He asked incredulously while his hand came up to stroke my neck tenderly. He eyed her in confusion for a moment before she finally met his gaze.

She simply shrugged. “Too easy.” She sighed indifferently.

I was nervous then, because I knew Rose. There was no way she’d pass that one up in a million years just because it was ‘too easy’. It was a beautiful setup. And she passed on it because she somehow felt differently about Edward. And I was the reason for that.

He looked skeptical, but relieved the joke was left alone. Emmet appeared to be having a harder time with restraining himself, but did nonetheless as we all sat and ate our cookies in casual conversation.

It was a close call, and later that day when I got her and Alice alone, I told them in so many words to stop acting so weird around him. I knew what it felt like to be treated differently because of my past, and I refused to watch it happen to Edward too. I think Rose and Alice understood where I was coming from.

That night, the wait began for the right feeling to arise. Not the right moment, or place, or reason. All of those things already existed for us. We were just waiting for it to feel right. Monday night was not that night. I think we were probably too tense and anxious about it feeling right to actually experience it. And we were okay with that, just going to bed instead of fooling around and trying to force it.

It didn’t ruin the feeling of perfection the following day as we walked the halls arm in arm and ate lunch with the group. It just was. And Tuesday night, when I climbed up the lattice with a sore neck from a rather unfortunate and clumsy incident in gym, we knew it still didn’t feel right.

So instead of fooling around, Edward pulled me up against him with my back to his chest, and gave me the most Edwardly neck massage I could have ever hoped for. He leaned against my ear and chuckled when I hummed and moaned and melted into his warm touch.

I couldn’t help it. It was the only massage I had ever received. Women could still touch me while I lived in Phoenix, sure. But what woman wanted to give a seventeen year old girl a neck massage or a hug, or a kiss? After I moved in with Esme, I’d get the occasional sporadic hand pat, but before Edward, it was so rare for me to have any affection at all, let alone the lingering, massaging kind.

I told him so when I began feeling rather mortified by my dramatic reaction to his sensual ministrations.

His hands halted on my shoulders and I could feel his hair tickling my ear as I lounged between his legs on the bed and made my confession. “That’s pretty fucked up.” He whispered in response, turning his face to the side of my head and kissing it tenderly…affectionately before resuming the rubbing.

I was going to shrug and make it seem less so by saying something like ‘I never preferred it anyways.’, but he would never buy it. Because it was a lie.

Wednesday night was spent doing a lengthy Biology project that we had both been avoiding like the plague since the previous week. Textbooks and assignment papers were strewn across his large bed carelessly while we lay side by side on our stomachs, so close our arms were touching. We flipped through the pages of our shared textbook and wrote our papers in silence; occasionally lifting our bare feet in the air and tangling them between us with quick sideways glances and small grins as I chewed the end of my pen and leaned closer.

It was so disgustingly cheesy, I blushed.

I loved every second of it.

I was so positive Thursday night was going to be ours. Edward seemed fine all day in school. Better than fine, actually. He smiled nearly every moment I was at his side. He even contributed a dirty joke at the lunch table. His comfort took everyone by surprise as he stroked my neck and snickered in unison with Emmet and Jasper.

But when he opened his balcony doors for me that night, he looked… off. There was no crease between his eyes, so I knew it wasn’t related to his past, but there was an obvious change in his mood from earlier in the day. The misty breeze fluttered through his hair gently, and the soft contrast it gave emphasized the air of tension about him. The muscles in his arms were taught and twitching and his jaw appeared clenched as he offered me a tight grin that didn’t reach his eyes. The flare in his nostrils and the way he breathed deeply, as if trying to calm himself made me realize that this was anger. In fact, all of those signs coupled with the dark flash in his green eyes as he gazed at me signaled downright infuriation.

I peeked at him warily as I made my way past his rigid form and into the warm room. There were no words spoken, and he barely looked at me as I unloaded his food and removed my hoodie glumly.

He ate as if he didn’t have an appetite, and he gripped his fork with an unnecessary amount of strength while his eyes remained tight and darkened with an ire I was oblivious of. The climate of the room was darkened and tense with the unease of the unspoken hostility he was seething. It made me so anxious with its inflection that I restrained myself from leaning on his stiff shoulders as I usually would.

He noticed this after so long, and the way he sighed heavily without meeting my gaze and draped his arm across my shoulder… affectionately reassured me that this anger wasn’t directed at me.

I was awfully tempted to pry for some explanation as I gazed at him in utter confusion, but I knew as soon as he finished eating and got ready for bed that I wasn’t privy to this particular knowledge. So I let it go and tried to ease him with my soft caress as we lay in bed and prepared for sleep.

It was gone by the following morning as he kissed me by the door, so I reasoned that it must not have been so bad. Though, deep down I knew, Edward was the type to hold grudges and if it were a particular individual he was so belligerent with, they wouldn’t get off so easy.

But, that day, his anger was gone as he smiled crookedly at me in the parking lot of the school. And as such, the day was unhindered for the most part. But, there was this little issue I was having as I walked the halls with Edward.

A song. One of those irritating tunes that linger in your periphery no matter the lack of attention you grant it. The worst part was… I couldn’t figure out what song it was. There were no words, just little fragments that danced around in my head. It pestered me through every class and assignment.

On the ride home with Alice, I had become rather peeved with it; flipping through the radio and choosing some vulgar gangsta rap in hopes it would drive the song away. Because I was thinking… gangsta rap tends to do that. But even as Alice grimaced and drove faster through the booming bass of the song, I realized there was no hope.

Now the sweet little tune had just acquired lyrics about bitches and hoes as it echoed in my brain. It would have been humorous if it weren’t so freaking annoying.

It lingered the entire evening as I cooked and baked my Mysterious Mousse Melodies. It had somehow wiggled its way so far into the significance of my day that it had become a cookie name. It was even there as I tapped on the glass balcony doors to Edward’s room. Even my concern that his rage would reappear didn’t force it away.

He seemed fine that night however. No creases or tension as I walked into the room with a relieved, albeit distracted smile. I read while he ate, deciding that the suspenseful climax my book had reached would keep my thoughts occupied.

But it was still freaking there.

My eyes slowly drifted to the wall across the room as I gazed off into space and tried with more effort to place the name of the annoying tune. Surely, once I knew what it was called the lure would disappear?

It was then that I began humming it aloud. I’m not sure what compelled the notion that hearing it aloud would help any, but I did it. I pursed my lips while I hummed quietly, occasionally furrowing my brows and tilting my head once I hit a note that seemed familiar to me. I was so lost in my attempts to mold it into something comprehendible that I hadn’t even realized Edward could hear me.

My eyes slowly drifted to his, finally remembering his was in the room as well. But once my gaze landed on his face, my gentle humming was halted abruptly.

Edward was… glaring at me. Those dark green eyes narrowed as he put the cover on his container and tossed it aside wordlessly. My heart lurched and my stomach churned.

This anger was directed me.

Esme’s distressed sigh brought me back to the present as I lay on my bed with my palms covering my tear stained face.

“I want the truth, Bella.” She spoke in a firm and authoritative voice as she stood in front of my bed. A voice that I had never heard Esme use before. It made the tears emerge once again as I slowly sat up and slid my hands away from my face.

She didn’t look angry, or even annoyed that she had been awoken so early on a Saturday morning.

She just looked… hurt.

“It’s not his fault.” I choked in a moment of desperation. That was the truth. But at the mention of Edward, her eyes flashed with a fury that made my hands wring nervously as I gazed at her. Her delicate, pink silk pajamas quivered as she clenched her fists at her sides.

This anger was directed at Edward.

But suddenly, her face fell and her shoulders hunched downwards. “This was my fault.” She whispered remorsefully, shuffling to a chair that rested in the corner of the room. My face fell at her retreating form. She sounded so… defeated as she confessed her guilt.

“I should have seen something or…” She trailed off in a pained voice as she flopped into the chair and cradled her face in her hands.

I shook my head vehemently. “No, Esme.” I pleaded in a shaky voice as the tears trailed down my cheeks. She was determined to blame everything on herself, and I refused to allow the unnecessary guilt to plague her.

She simply sighed as her face remained obstructed from my view. “If your mother were here to see how monumentally I have failed, Bella…” She mumbled into her palms, trailing off into a soft, muffled sob.

And then my heart sank impossibly further when I heard another, louder sob escape from between her long fingers. Because I knew in that moment I would never be able to convince her otherwise. Where matters of my mother were concerned, she saw no reason. I knew the feeling well because I reacted similarly at the thought of disappointing her memory.

So instead of insisting she was wrong, I just closed my eyes and hung my head.

I was making her feel like this. I was causing this pain and remorse and utterly misplaced blame. I loathed it with a passion. It was then that I remembered exactly why I had decided to remain in Phoenix. This was what I had been trying to avoid all along. Just shoving my way into their happy lives and ruining it without effort. It made bile rise up into my throat every time she sniffled from the chair across the room.

Moments passed as she cried in the corner and I hung my head in shame. Long, dreadful moments where I began contemplating if it were even possible to clean this whole mess up.

I knew it wasn’t.

Without warning her head finally snapped up from her hands. She breathed deeply, wiping away the remnant tears as her posture transformed into one of defiance and confidence; shoulders rounded and back straightened.

“Things are changing around here.” She nodded conclusively with a residual sniffle as she rose from the chair and took the five steps to my bed. “I have been far too lenient with you because I was convinced that it was for the better.” She stood in front of me now. But she didn’t look angry or disappointed or hurt anymore. She simply looked determined.

“But now I see how terribly wrong I was.” She sighed as she took a seat on the bed next to me. I hung my head once again in shame at making her second guess her own instincts. Because they were right the first time around and I hated to see her restructure her own beliefs over a misunderstanding.

She turned her face to look at me then, but I merely peeked up at her meekly through the shield of my damp, disheveled hair. “You’re not seeing Edward anymore.” She emphasized his name in a disgusted tone that made my heart feel like it was imploding painfully inside of my chest.

She was misunderstanding everything, and there was no way to convince her otherwise.

I was right. There was no fixing this mess.

She spent thirty more minutes at my side reciting additional rules and restrictions, but I could barely understand her. Because the sobs overtook me with a violent intensity as I curled into a ball atop the blue comforter and clutched my hair while I waited for her to finish her speech.

She kept saying the same thing over and over again.

“This isn’t a punishment.” And “I’m not punishing you.” And “This doesn’t mean I’m blaming you.”

It felt like it. It felt like she was taking away everything I loved to protect me, and it was only going to cause me more hurt in the long run. I knew it didn’t matter. The same things kept fluttering through my mind as I lay on the bed and wept.

She doesn’t understand. And, There’s no convincing her otherwise. And, There’s no fixing this.

The room was illuminated in a dark grey morning light as she stood in my doorway and watched me cry as silently as my anguish would allow.

“You may not see it now, Bella.” She whispered gently as she began closing the door, the bright light from the kitchen disappearing into a subsiding sliver that crept across the walls. “But this is for your own good.”

Then the door was closed, and the room was too dark. My body trembled with my hysteric sobs as I slid under the blue hues of the blanket and lifted it over my head to obstruct the view of the closet door that loomed heavily across the room.

Five days was all it took for my time to run out.

It was a stare down of sorts. Both silently waiting for the other to go off on the inevitable tirade that had been building for twenty minutes. And three months. And four years.

I wasn’t fucking breaking.

He must have known.

So instead we sat silently as the clock in the study ticked the seconds away and we gazed and stared at each other over the large desk between us.

The air in the room was thick with tension as I remained completely still in the stiff leather chair and penetrated Carlisle’s calm, blue eyes with a blank stare.

I was already pissed off at him long before this whole mess happened. I had a feeling this confrontation could go many different ways. I could open up and do the honesty thing and hope that it would be enough to get me out of the massive heap of shit I was wading elbow deep in.

That’s a long shot.

I could hold various indiscretions over his head and try to force his compliance to my own logic. I called that one the ‘dickhead tactic’. I was saving it for a last resort because being a dickhead rarely got me anywhere worth being.

That’s enlightenment.

Or, I could just sit here in this chair and stare at him blankly until he speaks first. It was deflective and more touch and go than I usually felt comfortable with, but I wasn’t an idiot. Anything that came out of my mouth was going to be wrong and fucked up in his eyes.

That’s just the reality of being an asshole manipulator.

So moments passed in the large room as we breathed steadily and listened to that annoying clock on his desk. I wanted to throw it out the goddamn window. But… I had already ruined a perfectly good chess set on Thursday, so I restrained myself.

The argument two nights prior just made the whole room even heavier with tension and unspoken accusations. Carlisle was being a nosy motherfucker lately. I didn’t like it. I was private and I had a part of myself that I didn’t ever let him see. I wasn’t doing it to be a dick or anything, it’s just how I worked.

But he would push as we played chess at nights. I spent time with him to just… bond or some shit. It sounded stupid in my own head, but I wanted a closer relationship with Carlisle. I wanted to be better for him, to show him I could normal and fun… like Em.

We’d have fun most nights, just bullshitting about some medical topic or laughing about the happenings of the Forks medical elite. But there were times he would pry. And it was becoming more and more frequent.

Thursday night was one more example of his fascination with the details of my private life. He wanted to know about my girl. About the shit we talked about. Our private conversations.

And from the way he spoke so evasively, I couldn’t deduce if he was more interested in what I told her, or what she told me. Not that it mattered. Wasn’t any of his fucking business either way. So I cut the shit and told him so.

He sighed deeply while removing his glasses and leaning back in his chair. “Why can’t you just talk to me?” He asked in a pained voice while he gazed at me.

That was where the whole argument began. It wasn’t enough that I could talk to Bella and be happy and content. He always wanted more from me. More information about my mother, or more information about the fire. More specifics on Bella’s condition, more details about what happened to her.

I fucking lost it. I probably could have just stood up and left the room like I usually did when he prodded into my private shit. I think he was probably expecting me to do just that. Needless to say, I surprised him quite a lot when I sent the chess board flying across the room and glowered right into his eyes.

I leaned over the table between us, sweeping off the pawns and rooks that had landed haphazardly across the surface. “Back. The. Fuck. Off.” I growled, slamming my palm on the table to punctuate every word as I seethed at him. I wanted it to end. The questions and the subtle hints as I tried to enjoy my time with him. It just ruined it. And I was admittedly a little hurt that it wasn’t enough to just be able to have the three comfortable hours of time alone together.

That pretty much ruined my entire night. And the more I sat in my room and stewed over it, the more pissed I became at him for always wanting more. For not being enough for Daddy C.

I was probably being a complete prick when my girl came that night, so I tried as hard as I could to beat the rage away and enjoy my time with her. I put my arm around her, just so she knew that I wasn’t pissed off at her as the hostility in my posture was probably pretty evident. It would have been smart for me to just explain the whole argument to ease the concern I saw in her big brown eyes, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by admitting that Carlisle had some kind of sick and twisted fascination with our situations.

So I just went to bed and let her love and caresses soothe the anger that welled inside of me. And by the time I woke up next to her in bed, I was able to smile and kiss her sincerely as she exited the room.

The week had gone by with rarely an incident to fuck up my mood. I was happy. I was really goddamn happy with my girl. And the way she smiled and laughed as we walked the halls of the school together made it quite clear to me that she was happy too.

Even lunch was no big deal to us. Sometimes I’d get an odd look from Alice, or Rose, or Em, but it wasn’t enough to really bother me as I stroked Bella’s neck and ate my cookies. I actually managed to escape one painfully obvious jest at the expense of my sexual orientation towards Jazz. And from Rosalie Hale nonetheless. I was a little fucking stunned… and glad that I finally had a girlfriend to dispute those claims. I even joined in on conversations when I felt I had something useful to offer.

Something useful or something ridiculously filthy to trump their lame ass jokes with.

The nights were always a little unpredictable. It was still understood that we were going to… make love. The first night she came after Valentine’s Day, I was so fucking nervous about having to turn her down. Because I wasn’t ready to do it yet.

Fortunately, my girl seemed to be having her own anxiety over the matter, which made me far more relieved than it really should have. I just couldn’t bear to see the dejection on her face when I pushed her away.

Then Tuesday she was hurting from some freak gym accident that had me nervous as hell until she assured me it was entirely self-induced.

But she looked so uncomfortable as she sat on my bed and rubbed her neck while staring down at her book silently. I offered her a neck massage. And to most motherfuckers, that’d be a shady and selfish attempt at seduction or something. But I just didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable.

She agreed with a large grin, allowing me to pull her against my chest as I swept the hair away and over her shoulders. I smelled it while I rubbed and kneaded her tense muscles gingerly yet firmly.

The sounds she made spurred me on as she relaxed against my chest and emitted purrs and moans and hums. It sounded really erotic as I leaned into her ear and breathed her in.

But it didn’t get my dick hard like it normally would have.

It just made me smile.

She stiffened suddenly, opening her eyes to look at me sideways. “I’ve never had a massage before.” She admitted timidly while I worked my way down to her shoulders. I snorted at her, asking how that was even possible. To never have had a massage before.

Then she told me that before I had come into her life, it was a rarity for anyone to show her affection.

At all.

It was pretty fucked up.

I told her so, and I made sure to kiss her as tenderly as I could because if I was the only one who could do that kind of shit for her, I was going to do it as often as possible.

Wednesday was another weird night where we were together but conveniently occupied. The Bio paper was due the following day, and we had been spending so much time anticipating… other things that we had neglected it.

We lay side by side that night, and even though we were doing, quite possibly the most boring and unromantic assignment on amoebas ever, I still tried to be all affectionate to my girl. With my feet and arms and sideways smiles as we played footsie in the air. We were becoming one of those gross couples that often made me consider regurgitation.

I kept doing it because it made her smile as she chewed her pen and blushed sideways at me. I wanted to snort. She blushed at playing footsie, but she could put my dick in her mouth with no reservations.

That’s my girl.

The memory almost made my lips twitch as I stared at Carlisle from across the desk. That goddamn clock broke me out of my good memories and into the here-and-now as we continued the stare down. Both of us silently refusing to break. My mouth was so goddamn… dry and I was trying to exude this whole cocky confident posture as I sat entirely still in the stiff leather chair.

But truth be told, I was fucking terrified.

Carlisle broke first. “You were sleeping with Bella.” He stated flatly; his hands clasped in front of him on the desk and a completely blank expression covering his face. I imagined this was what he looked like when he told a patient they were dying. I fought against the bile rising in my throat.

“I can’t sleep without Bella.” The honesty thing seemed like a good route. For now.

He shook his head slowly. “How did she get into your room?” Still blank.

I looked away then, because I couldn’t bear the accusation in his eyes when I admitted it. “She climbed the lattice up to my balcony.” I replied grimly. Honestly.

It was silent as I stared out the window. The sun was just barely rising and… fuck. I was thirsty as hell and the chair was becoming more uncomfortable with each tick of that goddamn clock. I refused to squirm under the penetration of his stare.

“How long.” He whispered curtly.

I fucking sighed, reconsidering this honesty thing because my answer wasn’t going to go over well. “Since Thanksgiving.” I mumbled dreadfully. Honestly.

He made the oddest choking sound and I could just imagine his chin falling as he gaped at me from across that desk. I remained still and stiff.

“Why, Edward?” He asked in this miserable voice that was entirely inflected with hurt and confusion.

I snorted. “Like you fucking care what I have to say anyways.” I chuckled humorlessly and shook my head as I kept my eyes locked on the scenery behind the window. Gray.

“I do care.” He whispered again, still sounding hurt and making it more difficult for me to remain still.

And I knew he cared. Fundamentally he did. But nothing that came out of my mouth was going to make this situation any better.

On the other hand, nothing I said could make it any worse. And all of the fucked up scenarios left brewing ignorantly inside of his curious mind were likely far worse than the truth of the matter.

So I said, fuck it.

I told him everything.

Because the honesty was all I had going for me, and I was praying the satiation of his constant curiosity would buy me some kind of ‘Get Out of Jail Free Card’.

So I told him about the ‘nightmares’, nearly snorting at the word, and I never met his gaze as I repeated our nightly routine in an emotionless, monotone voice.

The balcony, the dinners, the reading, the sketching, the bathroom, the caresses and the way I held her to make her feel safe. The motherfucking lullaby. The sleep and the way we woke up rested and happy. How she’d climb down and the next night we would do it all over again.

Honestly. The entire story and recollection of our nightly events.

Well… I left out the whole desensitizing thing. It was just fuel to the fire that was already raging between our two houses.

But the fact remained… the story of our sleeping habits was everything he had been dying to know without even fucking realizing it. And I was so pissed off and bitter that I had to confess it under pressure that I couldn’t look him in the eye.

The room was quiet for so long, and my fingers twitched and my mouth was just so… fucking dry. I wanted some water, or just anything. Mostly Bella. I needed to know if she was okay. More than I needed this conversation or his understanding. I just needed to make sure my girl was alright.

Carlisle sighed as I kept my eyes fixed on the window. “You never told me about these nightmares, Edward.” And he sounded so goddamn… accusing that I finally darted my gaze to his.

I was pissed off. “I don’t have to tell you everything.” I spat venomously as my eyes narrowed. “And what the fuck were you doing-“

He cut me off before I could even finish with a slam of his fist on the wooden desk top. “This is my house.” He sounded firm and all fucking defiant… and it made me want to laugh at him. Instead I knew I had to pull out another tactic.

The worst and most degrading tactic of all.

I let my face fall and soften. “Just turn your head, Carlisle.” I said in a low voice as his eyes widened. This was something that probably wouldn’t work, but I had been considering it for the last hour.

I leaned forward, closer to him as he gaped at me. “Just look the other fucking way and make shit so much easier on us.” I begged with my eyes in a low whisper.

Yes. I fucking begged. And watching me go to such great lengths should have made him realize how utterly fucking important this was to me. To Bella.

“Please.” I pleaded in a desperate whisper when he didn’t answer me.

Then suddenly, he began laughing.

But it wasn’t funny like he was laughing at me, or even mildly authentic amusement at my suggestion. It was a wild, maniac laughter that made me shift uncomfortably against the stiff leather.

“Are you on drugs again?” He asked In an awestruck voice with a smile that didn’t seem like a smile at all. It was mocking and just as maniacal as the earlier laughter.

I remained silent. Because that was a low fucking blow and he knew it.

Carlisle stood then, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m your…” He trailed off and darted his eyes around the room. “Guardian.” He concluded softly, carefully avoiding the ‘F’ word where he was concerned. Because he wasn’t.

“Do you honestly think…” he put his palms on the desk and leaned forward towards me while he bore his gaze into mine. “… that I can just ignore this?” He asked.

I nodded at him rather confidently. I didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t. It wasn’t against the law. I had checked all the books and websites and had found no legal objection to two… children sleeping in the same bed.

“Esme.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes at me.

That was one kink in the entire idea. Convincing her that it was okay. Carlisle knew that better than anyone because he was closer to her than anyone. That was one of those indiscretions I was saving for the ‘dickhead tactic’.

He shook his head again and it felt annoyingly condescending as he smiled at me. The same smile that wasn’t really a smile at all. “You’ll be so lucky if you’re even allowed to see Bella anymore after what happened last night.”

It was my turn to stand up and seethe. “That’s fucking bullshit, Carlisle!” I yelled, slamming my palms loudly onto the hard wood of the desk. And just… really fucking pissed that the previous night’s events were being so epically blown out of proportion.

His jaw dropped at my outburst and then it was his turn to yell. “No, Edward! Bullshit is sneaking a girl into my house every night for the last three months!” His face was red and we were staring each other down again. There was a large vein bulging from his right temple that almost made me feel guilty at the fact I was causing so much turmoil for this man.

Almost.

Not quite.

He could tell as he dropped his face and continued shaking his head while mumbling shit under his breath. “Of all the stupid… ridiculous... this tops it all.”

“Neither of you can stop me from seeing her.” I said simply, and I sat back down in my chair with a glower at him. “I’ll be eighteen in two weeks.” I raised my eyebrows and dared him to deny my logic. “I could move the fuck out if I really need to.” It was true, and a particularly distasteful way of settling this entire thing, but I could hardly give a shit. Bella would be eighteen in a few months. We could tough it out until then.

Carlisle’s face paled slightly, and even though we were talking now and not screaming, we were both seething in our own, silent way.

He evaded my threat successfully. “You had sex with Bella.” He stated in the same flat voice he had used earlier in the conversation. I nearly smirked triumphantly when he didn’t argue my point.

But he was going for another low blow.

“No.” I replied, deciding I much liked mono-syllabic replies rather than the screaming and yelling.

“No?” He raised his blonde brows.

“Yes.” I confirmed.

“Yes?” His brows went impossibly higher on his forehead.

“No!” I shouted, getting a little fucking annoyed and feeling betrayed by the simplicity of the mono-syllabics.

He appeared more than a little frustrated himself as his brows fell his blue eyes flashed in an annoyance I hardly thought Carlisle capable of. “Why do you insist on lying to me, Edward?” He hissed as his eyes narrowed once more.

This was where the whole honesty thing got fuzzy.

Maybe.

Okay, so I had no fucking clue whether or not I was telling the truth when I denied having sex with Bella. It was all confusing as hell and I was tempted to ask him to “Define ‘sex’” so that the semantics of the term could make my response truthful. Honestly.

Maybe.

I didn’t answer. Instead I let my thoughts drift to a song. The song that started all this bullshit. I wasn’t sure if I could blame it all on a song, but I needed to blame something because I couldn’t blame my girl, and everyone else was already putting plenty of the blame on me.

I was just sitting on my bed eight hours earlier with Bella while I ate my food. Things were so much different then. Better. Happier. Fucking perfect. And it was really messed up how it could all go downhill so quickly.

She was reading a book while I was thoroughly immersed in the meal she had brought for me. The silence was comfortable and relaxing as I sighed and ate the meal in contentment; occasionally peeking up at her to note the way her hair cascaded onto the pages of the large book in her lap as she gazed down at it.

But then I heard her humming. And it wasn’t so much the fact she was humming, but the song she chose that made me narrow my eyes at her in a blatant glare of utter disdain.

When her eyes finally drifted to mine, they widened and her humming abruptly stopped. Which confused me a little, but I just covered the container and decided I had enough of that shit.

I fucking flew at her, and I think I probably shocked her for a second until my hands found her sides and I began tickling her senseless.

Because my girl humming the Scooby Doo theme song couldn’t possibly go without proper retaliation. I told her so as she attempted to wiggle free from my hands.

And when the words left my mouth she began fucking giggling. A lot. I just kept tickling her, moving to straddle her so I could get a better angle at her sides. I found she was quite ticklish there as she writhed relentlessly under me and her giggles transformed into breathless snorts. Her head thrashed from side to side as she gripped my wrists to restrain me and my body lurched up and down with her every chuckle.

It was comical the way she began begging me through gasps to release her. It made me smirk. I didn’t stop until her face was red and she had tears streaming down her cheeks. And when my hands finally left her she was panting and tense, anticipating further attacks of retaliation as my hands lingered in the air at her sides.

But then the weirdest thing happened.

I was leaning over her, smirking and triumphant as she gazed up at me with watery eyes that shone. And suddenly, the whole atmosphere of the room changed. The charge between us grew and crackled as our smiles slowly disappeared and we gazed into each other’s eyes knowingly.

She smoothed back a lock of hair from my forehead with her soft, little fingers. It was so fucking tender and sweet that I cupped her cheek and gently rubbed it with my thumb. Her brown eyes were intense with the weight of what was occurring. The crackle and the growing tide of emotions in our gazes and touch.

Then I lowered my lips to hers, just barely sweeping them with my own as I gazed into her eyes and the crackle in the air grew and amplified even more.

Because this was the feeling. And we both knew it. Felt it.

Her eyes became hooded and our breaths began to quicken against each others’ parted lips as our gazes intensified further with lust and love and affection and tender.

Then my hands were grasping the blanket on either side of her head as I hovered above her and took her tongue into my mouth. It was sweet like cookies and I fought to keep the tender as we kissed and I gripped the blanket like it was the only thing holding the teenage hormonal motherfucker in.

She removed my shirt, and I removed hers. It wasn’t about showing her mine or showing me hers. It was about needing to feel the skin and the close as she pulled me back on top of her and recaptured my lips. My necklace was still there resting above her heart as I kissed my way down her neck. And her ring was still on my finger as I intertwined my fingers in hers and rolled us over onto my back.

She kissed my scars again and I just leaned my head back and tangled my fingers in her hair with a sigh. I liked that shit. A lot.

But then she straightened up and removed her bra. I kind of gaped at her breasts when she freed them, and my girl looked shy and insecure as she bit her lip and gazed down at me uncertainly. Which was stupid because she was fucking beautiful. I told her so as I took her in my hands and… massaged.

She liked that. A lot. Throwing her head back and arching her chest into my hands with a throaty moan.

Then my dick was hard. A lot.

I had never done this whole making love thing before but I really fucking tried as much as possible to show it as I kissed her peaks and all of her scars like she had done to me. The jagged one that crept up between her breasts, and the little ones that scattered over her ribs and torso. I showered them in kisses.

Her hands weaved through my hair, but she didn’t pull. And she didn’t bite. She wasn’t trying to spur me on because she didn’t need to. I felt ready and willing. A lot.

She rolled us over so I was on top of her again. She liked something about my being on top. It made me a little nervous because it seemed so dominant to me, but she didn’t seem to mind it and there were no cookies being said, so I trailed my kisses down to her stomach and began removing her jeans.

They got tossed away like the rest of our clothes. It could have been beside my bed or the black fucking hole of the universe for all I knew. Nothing else existed as we kept our gazes locked on each other and our chests heaved in anticipation.

Fuck.

The anticipation.

It was palpable in the air between us. What little air there was as I glided my hands up her little, soft legs.

There were more scars there. Up high on her thighs. I kissed them too as she ran her fingers through my hair languidly and stared into my eyes longingly. As if there were anything to long for. I’d give her fucking anything.

My hand made its way to her center, touching her through her panties, and she gasped and moaned and writhed, and the teenage hormonal motherfucker was doing a little dance somewhere when she didn’t say the safe word.

She pulled me up and took my lips again as I kept rubbing her. Trying to make it pleasurable for as long as possible because I knew it wouldn‘t be pleasant the entire time. She grabbed my erection through my jeans and I grunted into her mouth as I thrusted into her palm.

I was trying to find that line between making love and fucking as she unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs with her little feet. And it was really fucking hard to not be overcome with lust when she grabbed me again and stroked me through the thin remaining fabric.

I gripped the pillow at either side of her head and groaned; plunging my face into her neck and breathing in the smell of my girl desperately. I trembled as I fought to remember what this was about. Love, not lust. And I was chanting it in my head as I panted and clenched my eyes shut. Because I really didn’t want to fuck my girl, and the teenage hormonal motherfucker was wondering if there was any difference between making love and fucking.

She knew just how to drive the teenage hormonal motherfucker away though.

“I love you.” She whispered tenderly into my ear as she stroked me through my boxers slowly. And those three little words spoken in unison with her stroking palm made the whole feeling different for me.

I lifted my forehead to rest against hers and I rubbed her through her panties, returning the gesture with words and touch.

I was going to just slip off her panties as I moved down her body, like it was no big fucking deal for me to be doing that to my girl. As if it were the most natural thing in the world even though I had never seen that part of her. I was a little embarrassed as I paused with my fingers hooked in the elastic and I glanced up at her.

She lifted her hips in response to my silent question, so I slid them off slowly, maintaining eye contact with her the whole time.

They got thrown into the black fucking hole of the universe surrounding my bed and when I looked, I touched. And when I touched she moaned. And when she moaned I groaned. And it was so fucking sexy when I watched my fingers slide into her that I had to tell her I loved her again as I shifted my gaze to hers.

And when she told she me loved me, it made it feel differently to me. I didn’t feel guilty about being so turned on by the sight of my fingers moving in and out of her. I licked my lips lazily as I watched it and listened to her moans of pleasure.

Fuck.

I wanted to taste it.

I told her so.

And the dual looks of utter shock and just… yes, please plastered all over face made me want to fucking kiss her senseless. When she nodded silently, I did just that. Of course I didn’t kiss her on the mouth.

And... fucking Christ did she like it. A lot.

I worked so hard to make her cum with my tongue and my fingers because I just knew that it would probably be the only time that night she would. She brought a pillow over her face to muffle her moans and cries, and I reached up and ripped it the fuck away as my tongue worked relentlessly between her legs. Because I had to hear.

My name fell from her lips in a chant as she began constricting around my fingers and her thighs quivered against my ears.

She said my name, followed by a low “fuck” that made my dick twitch as she finally came with her fingers in my hair and her back arching off the bed. She hardly ever cursed. I liked hearing her do so in the throes of passion. A lot.

I had leaned back on my ankles while she recovered, contemplating my next move before she sat up and threw her arms around my stomach; burying her face in my chest.

My girl fucking hugged me.

She seriously – sincerely – hugged me for eating her out. It was simultaneously the weirdest and sweetest reaction I would have ever expected from giving oral. It was just… so Bella.

I returned the hug after the initial shock wore off; encircling her in my arms as I smelled her hair and felt a pang of remorse that I hadn’t thought of a similarly sweet gesture when she fellated me on Valentine’s Day.

I think she probably wanted to do more of that after she slid my boxers off and tossed them into the black fucking hole of the universe. But I didn’t let her. For many reasons. I had just, somewhat, balanced the scale with my oral, and I was in no hurry to have them tipped again. I felt shitty enough.

Then we were both completely naked together.

Me and my girl.

In my bed.

Naked.

A lot.

And we were surprisingly comfortable. No awkward bullshit or blushes or subtle attempts at covering areas with the blanket as we lied down. I was hers and she was mine and we showed each other what was theirs. Hands and eyes roamed and caressed curves and flesh.

I had never in my entire life been as regretful of the Ghosts of Bad Fucks Past as when I watched her explore my body.

My girl looked so amazed as her eyes followed the trail her fingertips made over my flesh. Skin to skin with no barriers. She was alight with fascination at the feeling. I envied her awe and wonderment at being so intimately close to someone for the first time. That she had waited to feel this and not just an empty fuck in a hot car against slick upholstery with empty people that didn’t give a shit about you.

Of course I was also ridiculously happy she had waited. That I could give her something with substance and love like I never had. And as we explored, we memorized every little perfect imperfection. No scar went unkissed, and no freckle went unnoticed.

She had a little mole on her left hip. She squirmed and giggled as I kissed it because she was ticklish. It made me smile, but nothing was said as we explored and kissed because nothing needed to be said. We did it with gazes and glances and the gentle sweeps of our fingertips and lips as we sighed and… fuck…

This was what it was like to make love. And then I was alight with my own awe and wonderment that it was even possible to distinguish one from the other. But it was there and I could see it. The look in her eyes and the way we touched as I rolled her over and underneath me the way she liked. Not urgent or demanding, but reverently savoring every moment.

She looked amazing and beautiful as she lay beneath me. Offering me all of her body and soul with absolute certainty while her eyes shone with love and tender and affection. Not need and want and desperation.

I wasn’t truly ready until that exact second to follow through with it. I had convinced myself five nights prior that I was, but I was so fucking wrong. Because I was still having those doubts that she wasn’t ready. That she was doing it for the wrong reasons. And as I gazed down at her I could tell that wasn’t the case at all.

So I kept going.

The curiosity in her eyes as I put on the condom was amusing to me. And so fucking sweet and innocent and endearing that it gave me a pang of guilt for taking it all away.

I asked her again, because I had to. I already knew the answer before she whispered it to me, but I had to hear it anyways. I had to tell her how much I loved and adored the shit out of her as I positioned myself between her legs and rested my forehead against hers.

She smiled and told me the same. She looked excited and curious and still a little amazed by the whole thing.

But mostly she just looked like she loved me as she licked her lips and stared into my eyes. And I really, really fucking loved her.

Really, we both loved each other. A lot.

So I pushed into her slowly. Really fucking slowly because I couldn’t decide if it would be more or less painful if it was swift or slow. But slow had been good to us thus far.

Her lips parted and she bathed my face in a warm exhale as my hand created a fist in the pillow under her head. I could feel the barrier when I reached it, and I fought a grimace as I gazed into her lust hooded eyes.

I clenched my teeth because it felt so fucking good and warm and wrong and right. “It’s going to hurt.” I ground out through my teeth remorsefully. My fist tightened in the pillow against the overwhelming strain of the all encompassing need to just fucking… do it.

She told me what I already knew. There was no avoiding that shit. The pain was inevitable and no amount of time or preparation was going to make it any more pleasant. Then she shifted her hips and begged me with her eyes to continue as her chest heaved beneath me in anticipation.

So I fucking did it.

I thrusted into her with a soft grunt, deciding swift was better for the actual pain portion of the act.

My eyes rolled back into my head once I was completely inside of my girl. I think I might have whimpered her name as all the air left my lungs in a sharp gust against her face. It felt so good and so fucking perfect that I nearly missed the way she had completely stiffened and began gasping beneath me.

And I knew what was coming.

I was out of her and leaning back on my ankles off of her before the safe word could even escape her mouth, but it did nonetheless. Again and again as she gasped and I kind of fucking panicked at the sight of her trembling in front of me.

There was blood. And her eyes were clenched closed as she chanted “cookie” over and over again in shaky gasps.

It was fucked up and I felt shitty and unsure of what to do as I stroked her cheek and tried to calm her with my voice and caress. I was so goddamn mortified as I kissed her cheeks and began shaking nearly as much as she was.

I figured the panic attack she was having would pass as the pain subsided, but it didn’t make me feel any better in that moment as I glanced down at her trembling body.

She looked so scared and there was still… blood.

Blood that I drew with my love.

And I couldn’t look at it anymore.

I lurched off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom and turned on the shower with my very unsteady hands, and when I returned to the room she had rolled onto her side and was hugging her knees tightly. I wandered over to her, slipping my arms beneath her and grimacing as I picked her up. She was silent as I walked her into the bathroom. Not even questioning what I was doing and I was thankful for it. The logical part of my brain was kicking in and I utilized it fully in the evident emergency of the situation. The need to just have her… okay and clean again was overwhelming as I stepped into the shower with her in my arms.

By the time her feet reached the tiles and the warm water hit her face she was crying. And fucking apologizing to me. That pissed me off. I told her so as I leaned her head under the stream of hot water and smoothed her hair out of her face.

I began washing her hair because it seemed like a soothing gesture as I massaged her scalp with my fingertips gently. She remained quiet as she slowly relaxed into my touch and the last of her tears were washed away with the blood of her innocence down my shower drain.

She stared at me as I washed her hair, and eventually her little arms came to circle my waist. I smiled at her, just so she’d know this was okay. I was a stupid motherfucker for not anticipating that exact reaction, but that didn’t make it wrong and it didn’t make it right.

It just made it… us.

“We’ll try again though, right?” She whispered as I leaned her head under the water once again to rinse out the shampoo from her long hair. “When it won’t hurt?” She asked with this adorable pleading look that almost made me forget the whole fucked up first attempt minutes earlier.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. Even though, secretly, I was in no hurry to risk putting her through that shit again. It seemed to relieve her and her shoulders relaxed as I began washing her body.

Washing me off of her body. A lot.

And then I waited for it. Her bitterness at the fact she had failed at doing this one thing that seemed so important to her as I lathered her up and cleaned her skin.

She always surprised me though. “I think you missed a spot on my pancreas, Edward.” She teased with a smile and a chuckle as I scrubbed every inch of her front really fucking meticulously.

I smirked at her. “Nothing wrong with being thorough.” I shrugged one shoulder, massaging her breasts and trying to make it appear as though I was just cleaning her so well because I enjoyed touching her. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth either.

She quirked an eyebrow down at my very obvious erection that stood traitorously between us, but I just spun her around and washed her back.

No fucking way in hell was I getting off after that.

I dried her off and I took care of my girl as much as possible. It eased the guilt… minutely.

But as we dressed for bed and our separate bathroom routines became one, I felt really quite relieved. Because it was over and done with and there was no bitterness in her eyes as she got her little blue toothbrush out and began brushing her teeth with a grin at my reflection in the mirror. I just got out my green toothbrush and brushed my teeth right beside her.

I smiled back. A lot.

I was thankful for the dark comforter that made denying the blood stain easier once we were ready for bed.

And when we were both curled up next to each other, we still caressed with love and tender and affection because it wasn’t a fucking fluke or anything. I was having trouble coming to terms with the way I fucked it up, but I couldn’t regret it and I never would.

She hummed sweetly to me as I breathed in her hair and stroked her cheek. It didn’t smell like flowers and cookies though. It smelled like flowers and cookies mingling with my shampoo as I drifted off to sleep with her tight in my arms.

---

I didn’t know how long I had been sleeping but it was a deep, peaceful slumber and I was so fucking warm and comfortable under the covers that I had a hard time understanding why I was even awake to realize it.

But… something felt wrong. Something that was off enough to actually wake me from the dead coma I was in.

I was still half asleep with my eyes closed, dancing behind my lids as I used my remaining senses to determine what was wrong around me.

My girl felt oddly rigid in my arms and her breathing was coming out in sharp gasps against my throat. Her hand was fisted into my shirt; pulling the neck down and exposing my chest she was gripping it so tightly.

She shook once.

I furrowed my brows, fighting off the cloud of drowsiness that hazed my mind… or embracing it. I couldn’t decide which was more desirable at the moment.

She shook twice.

I nuzzled her hair. It smelled really good. Like the two of us combined. Flowers and cookies and my shampoo. And it was still damp. It felt cold against my face.

She fucking screamed.

Loud and shrieking into my throat and I shot up out of bed. Gaping at her as her mouth hung open and the loudest fucking wail escaped. I was going to clamp my hand over her mouth before I realized her wide, terrified eyes weren’t fixed on me.

She was backing up against the headboard and she was staring across the room as the scream stopped just long enough for her to draw in a shuddering breath. She began shrieking again as soon as her lungs were filled to capacity.

And as I spun my head around to follow her gaze I realized what had her so goddamn terrified.

Someone was inside of my fucking room.

I fumbled for the lamp, cringing against her scream and knocking over the alarm clock as I grabbed blindly in the dark for the lamp.

When I finally found the switch and flicked it on, the room became illuminated in the soft glow, but her screams never lessened any as I squinted and turned my face to the direction of the intruder. Just basically ready to fuck someone up so badly that my fists were clenched and shaking just as much as my girl.

But I didn’t know if I could exactly call Daddy C. an intruder.

Carlisle stood in front of my dresser with his hands over his ears and his eyes as wide as two saucers as he registered the scene in front of him.

I brought Bella into my arms. Because even though there was big fucking problem standing in the middle of my bedroom, she was the more important issue. I squinted and brought her head to my chest, smoothing back her damp hair and rocking her. I shushed her gently, cooing in her ear and trying to reassure her everything was okay.

And after a moment, the screams finally ceased. She still had her little hand fisted in my white shirt and she was still shaking and gasping, but she finally realized what I had been trying to tell her all along.

She slowly turned her head against my chest to peek at Carlisle through her damp locks, but his gaze was fixed somewhere else entirely.

The clothes scattered on the floor. Jeans and shirts and the bra and underwear all scattered haphazardly across the black fucking hole of the universe surrounding my bed. His eyes wandered over the carpet and his face paled as they finally rested on the empty condom wrapper resting on the bedside table.

My heart sank and my stomach lurched as I watched his expression grow from confused to downright horrified. I just held Bella to my chest tightly as I stared at Carlisle’s disbelieving face grimly.

Because for the only time that night, my girl and I were both thoroughly fucked.