You and Me
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The Writers Coffee Shop Library and Twilighted
Summary - A tale of two who were, and weren't, and are.
Length - 4k ish
Warnings - le full of le angst, no really. AH
You and Me
"Loving you is easy, losing you is hard. But knowing you were once mine is the hardest. "
"Don't forget to let the cat out."
And there it was, my cue to leave; the signal that I'd stayed my welcome, and if I hesitated a minute longer in his bed it would be well and truly overstayed.
"I won't."
#8#
I rolled out of his bed and started looking for my clothes, ignoring the warm wetness coating my thighs. I didn't bother to turn around and see if he was watching. I knew he wouldn't be. I heard the familiar sound of a match being lit (he liked the smell when he shook out the flame). I could almost picture the swirl of white leaving his nostrils in a loud burst, circling and winding its way through the air above him.
My panties were hanging off his high school football trophy, and I almost laughed because he'd been aiming for the drawers. Apparently, his ability to aim a ball anywhere on the field didn't extend to lingerie and his room. I didn't bother to put them on, I'd only be taking them off again in twenty minutes once I got home and could finally shower off the grime and guilt that coming here left me with.
#8#
God, he was heavy, but I relished the weight of his body on top of mine. It wasn't often he let himself go completely like this- that he touched me in a way that wasn't to entice me to his side. I left my hands where they lay, my fists still clenched in the sheets so tight I didn't think I'd be able to force them to unfurl. My knees still pressed against his ribs, the heels of my feet resting on the cheeks of his ass where seconds ago they'd been digging in, urging him for more.
His breath played in short, sharp bursts over the sensitive skin of my neck where he'd been nipping and licking so hard I was sure he'd leave a mark. He liked to lay claim, even though he would never say the words, and I never told him I wanted to hear them.
I liked the stain to my skin. I hated when the red and purple faded to gold and then disappeared.
I liked to remember that at one time, he wanted me. Me.
I wanted him to pull me with him when he rolled onto his side. I wanted his arm to wrap around my waist and hold me close and to feel his lips upon my forehead before we sunk into slumber. My fingers twitched and almost as if he had felt the movement, the warmth of his body was gone.
I squeezed my eyes tight over the sting of his actions and forced myself to sit up.
"Don't for-"
"The cat, I know."
#8#
He was laughing at her stupid jokes and I sipped on my rum and coke and watched. His eyes didn't once stray to me. Yet I knew by the set of his shoulders that I would be the one going home with him tonight.
#8#
"This isn't good for you, Bella."
I unrolled the last curler from my hair and tipped my head over to shake my hair out.
"I know you can hear me, I just… don't you see what he's doing to you?"
I stopped fluffing for one moment and watched the toes of her left shoe tap in front of me before they turned with a frustrated huff and left the room.
She never understood. She could never understand in high school, she never understood in those moments we were both home from college and she could never understand now.
Then again, it wasn't as if I did either.
#8#
**incoming text message**
My place, twenty.
I was knocking on his front door in ten.
#8#
He groaned and his fingers combed through my hair, gathering the ends into his hand and twisting almost painfully. His cock tasted so good on my tongue, all musk and man and him. In and out and deep and swallow. My nose tickled by the dark auburn curls that surrounded the base of him as I relaxed my throat. One finger teasing the sensitive patch of skin sitting behind his sack before circling the little pucker that I knew would have him shooting his load well before he wanted to if I were to insert it up to a knuckle.
I pulled back until just the head sat on my tongue. His closed eyes struggled to open and he gazed down at me, his lips quivering with every shaky breath in and out. His look was as pleading as was every whimper that unwillingly left his chest. I smiled and licked around his foreskin before sinking down once more.
I swear I heard him whisper thank you as I wiped away the little that had spilled onto my chin.
#8#
Another night, another blonde. More insipid laughter followed by more not-so-innocent touching. Green eyes flashing at me with what most would see as anger, but I knew to be a more baser instinct than that.
It was always different when the shoe was on the other foot.
Later, he bent me over someone's beat up Ford in the car park and pounded into me without a word.
#8#
"You know I've never even seen cat food or a kitty litter tray for your cat?"
"He eats rats and he shits outdoors."
His laughter wraps warmly around me as I pull on my jeans.
#8#
"Do you remember Mike's party?"
I stumbled, knocking my ankle on his coffee table from where I'd been trying to take my sandal off. We didn't talk, not after the kissing had begun and his fingers slid none too casually under my skirt. He'd never been one for small talk. We never talked about our past. "Which one? Mike was always throwing parties."
"The one where you brought Jacob Black."
I froze, my shoe clattering to the floor as I'd finally released the clasp. Swallowing the shock, I found my voice to answer. "Oh."
"You remember?"
I nodded and forced myself upright. My body yearned to turn around and see his expression. To see if there was anything there, like there had been the night I'd brought an extra to Mike's Big Start of Summer Send Off. Otherwise known as 'my parents are away on holiday somewhere out of state and think I'm trustworthy because I go to church with them every Sunday' bash.
Somehow, I managed to stare at the crack in his wall instead. It had been bugging me since he first invited me back here-how had it happened? Did he throw something ? Or was it there before he moved in?
"Bella," he said my name tersely, and I imagined him squeezing the sound out through clenched teeth. He was upset with me and I didn't know why.
He was the one that brought up Jacob. Not me.
I nodded because I wasn't sure how to respond or what exactly he wanted me to respond with. I hadn't spoken to Jacob since that night. Not after I'd driven him to hospital, a broken, bleeding mess and had his sister scream at me for an hour over what a teasing slut I was. That I should have known better than to pull her brother into our games. That I deserved the reputation that the Cullen boy had given me. That I was never to set foot on their property again.
I'd seen Jacob Black a few months back, he'd been on the street with his wife and daughter, a picture perfect scene that I'd glimpsed waiting for the light to turn green. Ten years later, and I could still see the scars from where Jacob's jaw had been wired closed.
#8#
Don't stop, don't stop…. Oh god, so close!
He winked at me- the bastard licked his lips, then winked at me before slipping between my thighs once more.
#8#
I'd been at the bar for three hours, and Ben kept looking at me and looking up at the clock on the wall. I knew that clock well. I knew the minute hand vibrated as it slowly made its way around, making ten minutes feel like ten hours. I knew that the neon lights above it said BE R because Sam Uley had thrown a wild dart and smashed the other E. I knew the number nine was upside down and probably had been since the clock was put on the wall. The hand was hovering over the six that should have been a nine. He had said six. He told me six and now he was punishing me and I was taking it by waiting so long.
Why he was punishing me was something for which I still had no real answer. Maybe it was because I'd ignored his texts twice this week before caving and driving over. Maybe it was because I'd actually gone out on a date yesterday and hadn't come at his beck and call. Maybe it was because I'd seen his car hovering in the shadows when my date had walked me to my door. Or maybe it was because I'd purposely pulled Alistair's collar close and kissed him before letting him come inside.
"Are you just about finished, Bella? I'd kind of like to close up."
"She'll have a rum and coke, with a cherry."
"Without the cherry."
"With the cherry. Has she shown you what her tongue can do with the stem?"
"Shut up, Cullen."
Ben sighed and rolled his eyes before turning to get the bottle. My whole side burned like I was leaning too close to a flame, the heat I had been waiting for. I listened to the screech of wood on wood, the light rustle of his clothes as he sat down and then felt the rough of whiskers as his lips met my cheek.
"Maybe we should go without the cherry, and you can just practice on my dick instead."
"It's about the same size," I said, turning my head toward him, letting my eyelids close as I breathed in the clean, fresh scent of his aftershave and soap.
"I've never heard you complain before." He swallowed so hard afterward I saw a vein popping in his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
"You never let me talk."
"Oh, you talk well enough. Most of it isn't that decipherable."
I laughed and felt his hand like a brand upon my knee, shifting slowly up under the loose ruffles of my skirt until his thumb was between my thighs, attempting to push them apart.
"Come home with me, and let's see how many words you can get out that aren't 'yes,' 'more' and 'don't stop.'"
He tilted his head so his eyes met mine, and I was lost in the darkness of his stare. There was humor and lust and still something more. It was the something that I usually only saw when a hand that was male and not his was touching my skin. The tip of my nose brushed his as I breathed in and he breathed out.
We were gone before the ice even got to the glass.
#8#
** You've reached the voicemail of… Edward Cullen… please leave a message after the…**
I didn't know why I bothered listening to it all the way through. I never left a message, it was sick the way I needed to hear his voice.
** You've reached the voicemail of… Edward Cullen… please leave a message after the…**
#8#
"Don't forget-"
"I've never fucking forgotten to let your fucking cat out once, you fuck."
"Language, Bella, language. Words like that and you sound just like-"
"Don't you dare bring my-"
"Oh that's right, we can't mention Mommy now-"
"Shut up, Cullen. Just shut the fuck up."
Slamming a door closed had never felt so good.
#8#
I could see it on her face. Alice was deliriously happy that I hadn't seen him in three weeks; Friday would be four. I didn't miss him.
I didn't.
My eyes found hers in the mirror where she was bouncing, almost vibrating with happiness on my bed.
I smiled and rolled my eyes as I squinted to apply more eye shadow. There should have been butterflies wearing steel-capped boots practicing for Riverdance in my stomach, but there was nothing. Not a flitter. I was calm and collected, not worried at all about tonight.
A date.
A date with a nice guy, who would probably take me to a nice restaurant and we'd have nice conversation followed by a nice kiss on the cheek when he dropped me off at home.
It would be nice.
Normal.
Yet in my heart, I knew it wasn't what I wanted.
#8#
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Climbing - ahhh fuck! -in your… your window."
"Will you keep your voice down?"
"I will when I - sweet Jesus, my balls - when, when I'm inside. Will you shift over?"
"No, I don't want you here. I don't want you in my window."
"Move over, Bella, and let me in. I can't balance half in half out for much longer."
"No. Go home, Edward. Go home."
#8#
**incoming text**
Please.
#8#
I woke up from the most vivid dream, a dream so real I actually sat bolt upright, gazing at the space where I expected him to be. I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. The moon was full tonight and I was hoping that was why my brain decided to fill my head with memories I'd hoped I'd forgotten.
Pale light flickered through the sheer curtains as they shifted in the breeze, and I blinked and saw his body curled in the window seat there. That summer it had been so hot he'd always ended up sleeping under the window, usually leaving my bed moments after we'd finished making love. He'd found a way to fold his long body on the small cushioned area and light up, even back then. I remembered the way the smoke swirled in circles above his head, making him look ethereal. Untouchable. Unreal.
Yet he had been back then that he'd been real to me.
We'd begun dating in sophomore year. He-the golden boy of our high school-and me- the town whore's daughter. I thought it was a joke when he'd asked me out. He'd never noticed me before and I read books at the home games that Alice dragged me to just because she was a cheerleader.
The second time he asked me out, I laughed in his face.
The third he didn't even ask, he just sat down at the booth where I'd been nibbling around a salad while finishing a book report I had due the next day. We didn't speak, he just ate his cheeseburger and fries and when we were done eating, he asked me questions that had made me think.
He obviously had more than the winning arm and Hollywood smile that I'd previously only thought him to be. He sat with me every afternoon at the diner. We'd eat together, then discuss classes that we both had (more than I had thought). I helped him with English and he helped me with Math. It wasn't until winter break approached that I realized what I had thought was some sort of communal tutoring, he'd actually thought were dates.
I'd quickly informed him that if he wanted to date me, he'd need to pick me up from my house and meet my father first. It wasn't like he had to meet my mother. If you wanted to see Renee all you had to do was take a slow drive down Main Avenue any time after ten on a weeknight. She'd treat you real nice if you had enough Benjamins in your pocket.
He took me home that afternoon and met my father at the door. He'd even 'stated his intentions', which had my Dad's moustache twitching. We'd been inseparable after that.
He made it to the varsity team and became captain our junior year, and after the team won the homecoming game, I lost my virginity to him in the back of his mom's car. That summer was supposed to be everything for us, but it was the summer that broke us both.
#8#
**You have… Twenty Six new messages… Bella, please just… You have no new messages**
#8#
"I'm really worried. She hasn't come out of her room for days. I can't even get her to look at me when I go in. She's never been like this, and I know she's not seeing him so… I don't know. I don't know what to do at all."
#8#
I got up and stood in the shower. I didn't know why I'd chosen to 'wake up' today. I did know when I nicked myself shaving my legs I watched the blood pour down my ankle and swirl around the drain. I did let myself cry until my throat was hoarse and there were no more tears.
I got dressed and I sat at the window that for so long had been his, and I looked out into the town that had been all I'd known for most of my life.
Fall had come, the leaves turning and leaving a feeling of change in the air - maybe more than just the seasons.
#8#
I threw away my old cell phone and bought a new one.
Little steps.
#8#
I left work with my arms full. I could barely see over the flowers that Alice had sent today and the box was heavy, full of books that I'd acquired over the years. I'd never realized how much stuff I'd filled my office with until I had to clean it out. It was time for a new start. A new job, a new town, a new state.
A new me.
A me without the weight of what could have been holding me down. A me free of knowing eyes following my every move. A me without ghosts hovering around every corner.
A me without him or anything that reminded me of him.
It was what I needed, what would be good for me. Because Edward Cullen and I were toxic. We weren't meant to be. We were a could-have-been and I knew, even though he'd never leave my heart, we were better off without each other.
"Wait!"
I ignored him, even though my foot skipped a little out of step with the other as I continued walking to my car.
"Bella!"
My hands shook as I shifted the box to my hip and tried to get my key in the door.
"Please!"
I was tempted to just dump the box and run. Books could be replaced. The flowers would die in a few days anyway.
His hands smacked into the window so hard it shook and I jumped, hitting my knees on the steering wheel. I closed my eyes and let my hand rest on the key that would start the car and get me out of there.
"Please," he said again and it was soft and his tone was full of hurt. I recognized the feeling. He'd made me feel it too many times before.
I didn't unlock the doors. I didn't even turn to look at him. I did lower the window.
"You were going to leave and not tell me?"
I said nothing. As many, many times that I'd thought about what I'd say, imagined how I'd go to his house and find him and say all the things I've wanted to since he'd broken my heart and my trust that summer before our senior year.
That summer I learned that he didn't see me as anything more than a way to get his rocks off. I'd been just the stupid girl he fucked three ways from Sunday while he 'dated' Angela, the pastor's daughter. That was what the public saw, I was nothing better than a mistress and even Angela knew he was fucking me while going to church with her. I was the laughing stock of school and I was too blinded by what I'd thought was love to see.
I'd brought Jacob to that party to make him jealous. I'd wanted him to see that I could have anyone. I could be wanted, I could be cherished, I could be adored. I didn't talk to him until we both came back after our first semester of college. He'd gone away to play for Seattle and I'd started my scholarship at Brown.
I told myself I didn't need him. I told myself he didn't own my heart.
But one look, one more apology and I'd been his like we'd never been apart.
It had been different after that. I'd convinced myself it could just be sex. That I could fuck him and he could fuck me and we would never need anything else. I'd dated. So had he.
"Bella, were you really just going to leave and not even say goodbye?"
I realized he was still standing there, still waiting for me to reply. I took a deep breath, turned and committed the face I'd seen so many, many emotions cross to memory. I would never forget him, but I just couldn't be around him anymore.
It was unhealthy. For both of us.
"I can't do this anymore. I can't."
That little line appeared in the middle of his brow and he licked those lips that I'd kissed and felt on my body too many times to count. His hand tentatively reached inside the car and his fingers folded over mine where they shook on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about bringing your mom into this. I know how much she hurt you and how much you never wanted to be like her and you're not. You never have been." He paused and his fingers shook over mine. "And I'm really, truly sorry if I've ever made you feel like you were her. "
He looked at me and my eyes shone with unshed tears. His lip trembled and he swallowed again and again as the silence ate into the space between us. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he whispered my name, his forehead pressed against mine and we breathed.
I was so close to saying I wouldn't go. I was so close to saying it's okay, we can try again. I was so close to getting out of that car and never letting go.
Then I remembered how sick I'd felt every time I'd seen him kiss another girl's cheek. I remembered how my heart leaped up in my throat every time my phone rang, thinking it would be him, but wasn't and then I'd be hollow. I remembered how he'd never held me. Never touched me, just because he could. How we'd never gone out to dinner. How we'd never even held hands.
I remembered his dismissal every morning and having to let out his damn cat.
"Goodbye, Edward."
His hand squeezed over mine and I felt hot, fat tears roll down my cheeks. His lips wiped them away and then pressed, slow and sweet, on my forehead. I started the engine and he tapped the roof twice before stepping back as I reversed the car out. When I looked in my rearview mirror, expecting to see his familiar shape, the body I knew better than even my own, it was gone. He was gone, which was just as well. Now he could stay a memory of what I'd had, what I'd wanted and what I didn't want anymore.
"Loving you is easy, losing you is hard. But knowing you were once mine is the hardest. "
and You