Saturday, September 24, 2011

Figure Eight Teaser

“I wanted to run and I figured you didn’t want to since you moved yesterday,” I shrugged. I started to walk away. Edward gently grabbed my hand.

“What’s wrong? You’re distant,” he said. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Please let me know so I can fix it.”

“I’ll tell you when we get back to the apartment. I don’t want spying eyes to see anything, if you know what I mean?” I said as gave him a shy smile. He nodded and we took off back to the apartment. We ran up the stairs and plopped down on the couch in my place.

“Talk to me, Bell,” he said, brushing a tendril off my cheek.

“I’m just panicking,” I mumbled. “I’m…afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Kind of?” I replied. “I’m afraid of our relationship and that you might hurt me, in the long run. Not physically but emotionally. You know, the whole trust thing?”

“Bella, I promise you that I will never hurt you intentionally,” he said as he curled his leg under his body. He cupped my face, gently caressing my cheeks.

“I do have a question, Edward,” I muttered, breaking my gaze with his. “Is it always like this? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but I am very attached to you. Like, it seems too fast.”

“Never before you have I felt like this,” Edward said reverently. “I’m attached to you, too. Bella, you are so…beautiful, intelligent and I can’t even think of any more words to describe you. And I’m pretty verbose. But, when I’m away from you, my heart aches. When I’m near you, I yearn to touch you. Is it too fast? By conventional relationships, probably. I wouldn’t change what we have for anything, Bell.”

“Oh,” I whispered. I buried my face in my hands. “I’m so emotionally stunted.”

Edward picked me up and placed me in his lap. “You are not emotionally stunted. Perhaps you need a little push in the right direction, but you are fine. You’re in charge. And if I did something last night or this morning, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything. You just have been awesome and I’m emotionally stupid,” I said, slumping against his sweaty chest.

“Stop. It,” Edward said forcefully. I looked at him, biting my lip. He brushed his thumb over my lip, removing it from my teeth. “Let’s go to the rink. We need to have some fun on the ice. I have Buble’s version of Fever on my iPod. We’re going to work together and create a masterpiece. You and me.”

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