[Out of Milliways: Port Angeles]
"Distract me, please."
"... I'm sorry, what?"
Bella couldn't quite wrap her head around anything that had just happened. She was surprised she even still knew how to breathe after those guys had nearly --
She couldn't think about that. It was too much to deal with and now he was here and she felt, of all things, safe. Because it was Edward Cullen, once again her unlikely rescuer. (How unlikely was it when someone you met all the time at the end of the universe just HAPPENED to rescue you twice?)
"Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down."
Right. Distraction.
Is that what he thinks I normally do?
I don't think normally factors into it.
Bella somehow managed to ignore her own inner dialogue long enough to focus outward -- a task made vastly easier because of her company. She even managed not to say anything completely awkward, though if asked later she couldn't quite say what she'd rambled about. (Which was probably a good thing since most of it had to do with Tyler, and she wasn't sure how cool it was to gripe about other boys as distraction for the current one.) But the whole time her thoughts were racing madly in about a hundred different directions, all of them converging on Edward Cullen.
Just how did he -- even if he is, which he isn't because that's crazy but even if he is there's no way he just happened to be here which means he was following me ohmygod was he seriously following me no Bella get a grip okay but is there any way I can possibly ask anything at all without revealing myself to be completely insane???
"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella."
Yeah, and half the time it seems like it's my fault.
Bella fell largely silent, because there were too many questions and too many words she was afraid would slip out if she veered away from safe topics. She had to focus on the pieces of her reality that made logical sense and would have real-world consequences later, which meant finding Jessica and Angela, having dinner, and seeing what still made sense afterward.
***
"Honestly, I'm not hungry."
"Humor me."
He made it so easy. She was dimly aware that she ought to have been freaking out at some point this evening. But somehow he made it easy not to do that.
"You really shouldn't do that to people."
"Do what?"
"Dazzle them like that."
She'd been referring to the waitress, ostensibly. But a tiny part of her protested his continual ability to make her trip over her own thoughts just as often as she seemed to trip over her own feet. It wasn't remotely fair. Dimly she wondered if it was possible he practiced some sort of mind control, and mentally added it to her list of questions she was probably never going to get up the actual nerve to ask.
Well, maybe not never. Just after I've had time to think about things rationally. Maybe do some more research. And not be possibly--
"... waiting for you to go into shock."
His concern was...
Bella couldn't let herself think about what it was. She was probably already staring in an embarrassing manner. She probably should plead shock as an excuse.
She didn't. Bella was a crappy liar, and she figured the son of a doctor probably knew what real shock looked like anyway. She was pretty sure it didn't, in fact, cause one to blurt out insane questions.
... which didn't stop her even a little bit once they'd ordered and she was faced with the prospect of more useless chit-chat, or, alternately, actually speaking her thoughts. She could always claim temporary insanity later.
"You're always crabbier when your eyes are black... I have a theory about that."
***
Later, Bella would wonder -- briefly -- if she'd dreamed it all. And whether or not she ought to see someone about her tendency towards delusions of this sort.
Later she would actually -- again, briefly -- consider calling up Jacob Black to ask him if he'd just been pulling her leg earlier with all that nonsense about his ancestors.
But mostly she would spend the whole rest of the evening going over and over the conversation in her head.
"I'd rather know what you're thinking - even if what you're thinking is insane."
"Why didn't you want to leave?"
"It makes me… anxious… to be away from you."
"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?"
"I promise."
The rest of it -- all the vampire stuff -- seemed secondary. Confirmation of something she'd already guessed. She felt more relieved that she wasn't crazy than worried he was going to hurt her. (And maybe that was crazy. She wasn't a good judge of these things.)
Bella didn't know what to think. She wasn't even sure that, after tonight, she even still knew how to think.
But somehow, in spite of all that, she felt a certain sureness of mind that night as she drifted off to sleep.
"... I'm sorry, what?"
Bella couldn't quite wrap her head around anything that had just happened. She was surprised she even still knew how to breathe after those guys had nearly --
She couldn't think about that. It was too much to deal with and now he was here and she felt, of all things, safe. Because it was Edward Cullen, once again her unlikely rescuer. (How unlikely was it when someone you met all the time at the end of the universe just HAPPENED to rescue you twice?)
"Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down."
Right. Distraction.
Is that what he thinks I normally do?
I don't think normally factors into it.
Bella somehow managed to ignore her own inner dialogue long enough to focus outward -- a task made vastly easier because of her company. She even managed not to say anything completely awkward, though if asked later she couldn't quite say what she'd rambled about. (Which was probably a good thing since most of it had to do with Tyler, and she wasn't sure how cool it was to gripe about other boys as distraction for the current one.) But the whole time her thoughts were racing madly in about a hundred different directions, all of them converging on Edward Cullen.
Just how did he -- even if he is, which he isn't because that's crazy but even if he is there's no way he just happened to be here which means he was following me ohmygod was he seriously following me no Bella get a grip okay but is there any way I can possibly ask anything at all without revealing myself to be completely insane???
"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella."
Yeah, and half the time it seems like it's my fault.
Bella fell largely silent, because there were too many questions and too many words she was afraid would slip out if she veered away from safe topics. She had to focus on the pieces of her reality that made logical sense and would have real-world consequences later, which meant finding Jessica and Angela, having dinner, and seeing what still made sense afterward.
***
"Honestly, I'm not hungry."
"Humor me."
He made it so easy. She was dimly aware that she ought to have been freaking out at some point this evening. But somehow he made it easy not to do that.
"You really shouldn't do that to people."
"Do what?"
"Dazzle them like that."
She'd been referring to the waitress, ostensibly. But a tiny part of her protested his continual ability to make her trip over her own thoughts just as often as she seemed to trip over her own feet. It wasn't remotely fair. Dimly she wondered if it was possible he practiced some sort of mind control, and mentally added it to her list of questions she was probably never going to get up the actual nerve to ask.
Well, maybe not never. Just after I've had time to think about things rationally. Maybe do some more research. And not be possibly--
"... waiting for you to go into shock."
His concern was...
Bella couldn't let herself think about what it was. She was probably already staring in an embarrassing manner. She probably should plead shock as an excuse.
She didn't. Bella was a crappy liar, and she figured the son of a doctor probably knew what real shock looked like anyway. She was pretty sure it didn't, in fact, cause one to blurt out insane questions.
... which didn't stop her even a little bit once they'd ordered and she was faced with the prospect of more useless chit-chat, or, alternately, actually speaking her thoughts. She could always claim temporary insanity later.
"You're always crabbier when your eyes are black... I have a theory about that."
***
Later, Bella would wonder -- briefly -- if she'd dreamed it all. And whether or not she ought to see someone about her tendency towards delusions of this sort.
Later she would actually -- again, briefly -- consider calling up Jacob Black to ask him if he'd just been pulling her leg earlier with all that nonsense about his ancestors.
But mostly she would spend the whole rest of the evening going over and over the conversation in her head.
"I'd rather know what you're thinking - even if what you're thinking is insane."
"Why didn't you want to leave?"
"It makes me… anxious… to be away from you."
"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?"
"I promise."
The rest of it -- all the vampire stuff -- seemed secondary. Confirmation of something she'd already guessed. She felt more relieved that she wasn't crazy than worried he was going to hurt her. (And maybe that was crazy. She wasn't a good judge of these things.)
Bella didn't know what to think. She wasn't even sure that, after tonight, she even still knew how to think.
But somehow, in spite of all that, she felt a certain sureness of mind that night as she drifted off to sleep.