untitled (Twilight, Edward/Bella)
Title: wow this is so dumb don’t read it
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: PG? G? idk
Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters do not belong to me.
Word Count: 772
A/N: Only compliant with the first book. I’m pretending everything else doesn’t exist.
Happy Valentine's Day, I made it just in time.
He stole her away in the middle of the night and it was the sleepiness that made her slow to catch on. She’d waited up for him, her window open in the same expectant way as always, but he hadn’t come until late, when Charlie was snoring and her eyes were struggling to stay open. She didn’t remember much of when he did finally appear at her bedside; things were hazy while she was on the verge of drifting off. He might’ve asked if she would go with him. She must’ve said yes.
Somewhere between her room and their meadow, she started to wake up. The path was familiar, even at the dizzying speed that still made her head spin, and having her arms around him felt nice, so confusion and concern were successfully put aside until they stopped and she could think long enough to remember where she was supposed to be. He led her out onto the grass that was cool and slightly damp beneath her bare feet. There was a duffel bag waiting for them and she watched him unzip it and pull out a small collection of blankets while her head grew clearer and her questions built up and her tired acquiescent silence had to be broken.
“Edward?” She let him take her hand and gently guide her into sitting with him, one blanket beneath them, another being draped over her shoulders. “Why are we here?”
“Are you cold?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard her.
“No.” That was a lie and apparently an unconvincing one, since he handed her another blanket. She wrapped it around herself and tried to meet his eyes, but they were looking elsewhere, staring up at the sky like it had done something unforgivable. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d hoped the sky would be clearer.”
She followed his disappointed gaze to the clouded darkness that stretched above their heads, only a handful of stars peeking out at them. “And you had your heart set on stargazing tonight because…?”
“Because I want every second of today to be perfect for you.”
It still took her longer than it should’ve, but after a long moment of going through the mental calendar in her head, she understood. It was midnight. It was February 14th.
She groaned and covered her face with her hands, muttering through her fingers. “I know you’re a romantic, Edward, but please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who makes a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day.”
“Well…” He was smiling, she could hear it, and that wasn’t a good sign. “I’m not exactly a person.”
She dropped her hands-her frown would only be effective if he could see it, after all-only to be given a teddy bear. A small and cute teddy bear, but still, a teddy bear. “It doesn’t talk, does it?”
“Of course it does.” His tone was playful; he knew very well it was cheesy, she could tell, and that almost made it all right. But when he reached over to touch his cold fingers to her embarrassingly warm cheek, his gold eyes were softly serious. “Will you be my Valentine, Isabella Swan?”
She ducked her head away from his touch, a bubble of self-conscious laughter escaping her. “How many Valentine’s Days have you even had?”
“None that mattered.”
It was such a quick response, steady and sobering. She hadn’t thought of it that way. While she knew he’d never wanted anyone before her, the idea was so completely unbelievable that she sometimes had trouble remembering it. “Oh,” she said, lamely, followed by another nervous chuckle. “No pressure.”
“No.” His hand found her face again, lifting her chin so he couldn’t hide from him. “No pressure. Not today or any other day. Bella, you’re already more than I could ever deserve.”
He was wrong, he was so wrong, he had it all backwards, but she couldn’t say so. Her heart was too full, too close to bursting, to speak. One day, she would be able to, whenever she wanted; she would be able to say all the things she’d ever thought to say, show him all the feelings she’d ever felt, and do it just as easily and smoothly as he did.
But that day was certainly not today, and all she could do was squeeze the bear she still held in her hands and try to keep from laughing again when it squeaked, “I love you beary much!”
She couldn’t keep a straight face, but then, neither could he, and very little else mattered when he leaned down to press his crookedly smiling lips to hers.