So, here is one of the results of a drabble suggestion from two posts ago. It turned out less drabble-y and more one-shot-y.
rainpuddle13 wanted to see a Bella/Edward story that takes place before Breaking Dawn and which involved flowers. Written very quickly and posted without being beta'd. Apologies if you find any mistakes.
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Her eyes fluttered, coaxed open by the tickling rays of the sun that shone through her window. Bella stretched her arms over her head and found that the space next to her was empty. She frowned, now wide-awake from the realization that she was alone, and sat up, inspecting the bed and her room around her.
Her rocking chair sat motionlessly, her dirty clothes hanging over the back and the arms, but Edward was not sitting there, rocking silently like he sometimes was when she awoke. Her computer chair was in the same state, and still, no Edward. The faded yellow curtains she had never bothered to replace rippled lightly in the breeze emanating from her open window. She remembered falling asleep in his arms, and it wasn’t like him to leave before she woke up-and not come back, anyway.
As she threw her blankets aside to climb out of bed, she found eight white carnations tucked into the sheets on the side that he usually occupied. She picked them up and discovered a small slip of paper underneath them.
A carnation for every day that we have been engaged.
The note was unsigned but she would recognize the elegant script anywhere. Bella frowned at the inoffensive scrap with displeasure, and then glared at the equally inoffensive flowers in her hand. He knew she didn’t want to be reminded of their engagement, and yet, here he was doing it anyway. She heaved a torturous sigh and finally stepped out of bed to go downstairs and search for a suitable vase to place the flowers in.
The house was quiet as she padded silently through the kitchen. The only sound to be heard was the opening and closings of cupboard doors as she looked for anything that would sufficiently hold flowers. Charlie had already left for work. She had the house to herself, which only increased the mystery of why Edward had not returned this morning. If they had a chance to be alone together, they always took it. Privacy was impossible in a house where no one slept and everyone had superhero-like hearing. They had to take advantage of her empty human house, far away from the supersensitive hearing of Edward’s family, whenever they could. Where was Edward?
Bella gave up her search, deciding Charlie wouldn’t have flower vases anyway, and instead selected a tall glass tankard she found. The carnations flopped over the rim of the glass, which wasn’t tall enough to keep them erect, but she left them as they were and placed them in the middle of the kitchen table. Just as she poured herself a bowl of cereal for her breakfast, the doorbell rang, and even though she had just woken up and her clothes were less than flattering, she answered it hoping it was Edward.
It wasn’t, though she tried not to be too frustrated with herself for hoping such a thing. He wouldn’t have bothered using the door when he knew that Charlie had left for work.
“Isabella Swan?” asked the man at the door. He held a pen and a clipboard in his hands, which he offered to her when she confirmed that she was the one he was looking for. She signed on the line wondering who would send her a package.
The deliveryman went back to the truck he had parked on the curb, dug around in the back for a moment, and then returned carrying the largest vase of flowers she had ever seen. Red tulips and lily of the valley sprouted from the vase like an explosion of color and scent.
“Where do you want ‘em?” the deliveryman asked.
She gaped at the flowers for a moment before stuttering, “J-just put them in the kitchen.” He followed her inside and then carefully placed them on the table. As soon as he left the house, she closed the door behind him and leaned against the cool wood. What did he mean by sending her all of these flowers? It had to be Edward behind it; who else would send her such a bouquet?
She startled away from the door when she felt someone knocking, and couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the deliveryman again, with another vase of flowers in his hands. Moving out of his way to let him in, she eyed him perplexedly as he dropped the flowers off with the first batch.
“There’s two more,” he said as he stepped out the door again.
And sure enough, two more vases of tulips and lily of the valley joined the previous two on the kitchen table. The deliveryman handed her a small card before he left the final time.
A tulip for every day until we are married.
Bella had no idea how many flowers there were. She wasn’t the one keeping track of how many days until the wedding, so she wasn’t surprised that he would know exactly how many flowers “every day until we’re married” constituted.
She scowled at the unsigned card-more specifically at the word “married”-and stomped up the stairs to quickly dress, forgetting about the bowl of cereal she hadn’t been able to eat. A part of her wanted to toss every single flower in the trash and forget why he’d sent them, even if she didn’t really know why he’d sent them. But she couldn’t help but think of his reaction when he found his gift discarded so thoughtlessly, and they were very pretty flowers. It would be a waste to toss them, she told herself.
As soon as she had dressed and brushed her teeth, she jumped in her truck… only to find three orange roses sitting in the passenger seat. The note that accompanied the flowers this time said:
A rose for every hour since I last laid eyes on your sweet face.
She rolled her eyes as she tossed the note onto the seat and started the ignition. These were flowers that she could approve of, though, because they were not left to her for any reason that had anything to do with their impending marriage. And besides, she had never seen an orange rose before. They were absolutely lovely the way the edges of the petals were a fierce orange color, which faded into yellow near the center. They reminded her of fire, which was the last thing she thought of when Edward came to mind.
Except when he kissed her, actually. She thought about fire a lot while he kissed her. It coursed through her veins and heated her skin wherever his ice-cold hands touched her. Maybe orange was a very appropriate color for a rose, she thought.
Now distracted by the mere thought of kissing Edward, Bella couldn’t remember why she had jumped in her truck in the first place. It had something to do with flowers… Right. All those flowers he had sent to her. Recalling her mission once again, she backed out of the driveway and started the slow drive to the Cullen’s house on the outskirts of Forks.
Alice threw the door open just as Bella reached it, but Bella could not summon a smile to match the one that her almost-sister-in-law gave her.
She let herself in, grumbling, “Is Edward here?”
“Come on in, Bella,” teased Alice as she rolled her eyes and closed the door. “I think he’s in his room.”
Something in Alice’s voice put Bella on alert, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had triggered her suspiciousness. “You think?” How could she not know when all of the Cullens could hear what everyone else was doing in the house? Either she heard Edward in his room or she didn’t. “Is something going on?” she asked shrewdly, her eyes narrowing at the too innocent girl.
But Alice’s smile was too wide to be completely innocent. “Not that I know of! Carlisle is at the hospital, Rosalie and Esme went shopping in Seattle, and Emmett and Jasper are out hunting. I was just about to join them.”
Bella slowly ascended the stairs that led to the second floor of the house, her eyes never leaving Alice’s face.
“So, if that’s all, I’ll see you later!” Alice said, her voice like a song. She danced to the door, just slow enough for Bella to see her movement, and then she was gone. Sighing, she climbed the rest of the stairs, not really expecting to find Edward in his room. He had been absent so far today, what made her think he was going to suddenly show up now? What would be his reason for hiding out in his house instead of seeing her? Some of the insecurity she hadn’t felt in ages began to make itself known again. What if he didn’t want to marry her anymore? Why would he disappear without telling her where he’d gone?
Maybe he had done something she knew he wouldn’t forgive, she thought, and that’s why he was making himself scarce. But there wasn’t much she could not forgive when it came to him. She’d forgiven him for the worst of his mistakes, and what could he have done that was worse than embracing his thirst for human blood or leaving her?
She would just have to find out. She hoped he could tell how displeased she was with him by the way she stomped down the hallway to his room. She didn’t even bother knocking on his door, just threw it open and then stopped in her tracks.
The scent was the first thing that hit her, so sweet it was almost cloying. As if she’d run into a wall, it had her reeling backwards, her head becoming fuzzy, and her breath stopping short.
And then she took in Edward’s room and her mouth fell open. Wherever there had once been a flat empty surface, there was now a tall vase of flowers. Lavender and freesia-she only knew the flowers from their scent. She didn’t know how many vases there were, let alone the number of flowers, but the room was filled with them. The shelves, the floor, even the black leather sofa that he had shoved against the wall a month ago to fit the massive joke of a bed-all were covered with flowers.
And on that bed, in a pile of red rose petals, lay Edward himself. There were so many petals he looked like he was floating on them. She realized that they covered the floor as well. She could probably swim in them.
He held his hand out to her and who was she to refuse it? She walked towards the bed in a trance, for a moment forgetting that she had been annoyed with him only a few moments ago, forgetting the absurd number of flowers she had received throughout the morning, forgetting the absurd number in his room alone. He helped her into the bed and tucked her into his side, smiling widely at her. She returned his grin with one of her own.
“What is the meaning of sending me all of those flowers?” she tried to demand, but she was too dazed to be forceful.
“I was hoping they would placate you, actually,” he said, no hint of an apology in his voice, though Bella thought he should probably be apologizing for something.
“Placate me?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
His angelic face now mirrored the innocent expression Alice had tried to pull off earlier. “Yes. Your truck has suffered an unfortunate accident.”
“What? My truck is fine! I drove it all the way here without any problems!” cried Bella.
“Well, since you’ve been here, it has broken. Alice just tried to drive it back home for you, but… it died. I’m sorry.”
“What was she doing taking my truck home for me? I thought she was going hunting?”
He replied to her first question and ignored the second. “I bought you a present-a couple of them actually. One for before the wedding and one for… after. I thought you could test drive your before present today. You really won’t need your truck anymore, so Alice was going to deliver it back to Charlie’s house.”
Bella stared at him in horror, but his golden eyes were carefully averted to her throat while his fingers twisted and played with her hair.
“You bought me two cars?” she asked in a monotone.
“Your truck was a senior citizen anyway, Bella. This was bound to happen soon.”
“You broke it didn’t you? Or Alice?”
“Of course not!” But the innocent expression completely failed and she knew it was true even if he would never admit it.
“So that’s why you sent me all those flowers?”
“I sent you flowers because I love you.”
“I love you too,” she grumbled making the words sound more like a threat than a declaration. “Do these flowers have any particular meaning, like the others?”
He smiled and rolled on top of her, carefully keeping his weight off of her body while kissing the skin of her jaw. As she trembled and burned, he whispered, “Lavender and freesia, one each for every day we have spent together. My favorites because they smell like you, though not quite as lovely.”
His own sweet scent wafted off of his skin, she could smell it on his breath-flowery, but the scent of the flowers around her paled in comparison to his brand. Bella felt her head begin to swim as she became dizzy from his smell and his touch. She lifted her mouth to try to meet his and he surprised her by eagerly receiving her lips. As always, she became wild, clutching at his hair, his neck, trying to pull herself inside of him.
He did not pull away as he normally did. He rolled again so that she was on top of him; his hands restrained her, but they did not push her away. His kiss grew more passionate and more delicate at the same time. Bella thought she would pass out, either from lack of breath, or because her poor human heart couldn’t take the excitement.
Edward seemed to realize the danger of her heart stopping and he gently released her mouth, though he did not let her go or let her move away. As if she wanted to move away!
“And the rose petals? Do you know what they signify?”
As her blood sang and burned in her veins, her bones began the process of returning to their solid state. She shook her head, unable to speak coherently.
Placing light kisses on her eyelids and the corners of her mouth, he said softly, his floral breath a cool whisper, “One rose petal for every day I have lived without you.”
Bella’s eyes widened. There must have been thousands of petals. His lips caressed hers again making her eyes flutter closed.
He continued. “One rose petal for every day of the one hundred and four years that I lived before I met you. And one rose petal for every day we were apart after we met.”
Smiling a happy, asinine grin, she twined her fingers in his bronze-colored hair. They rolled together so that he was once again hovering above her, and he lowered his face to the hollow between her neck and her shoulder to place a lingering kiss there that made her heart skip two beats. As he inhaled deeply, she whispered, “Smelling the bouquet while resisting the wine?”
His answering kiss was better than any number of flowers that he could ever give her.