When We Were Young (Twilight)

Chapter 13

Rose hands me coffee and a doughnut, and then she gets into bed with me. I watch her, always so graceful, even in her third trimester.

"Rose." I say when she settles under the covers, doughnut on her belly, she looks at me with her perfect eyebrow raised.

"How did Edward end up at our apartment?" The night is a little hazy, but I remember drinking. I remember falling off the stool.

She gives me a look, "Your apartment?" I shrug,making her laugh. Technically I haven't been home long enough to even think about where I'll settle down. The fact that she and Em are letting me stay in their extra room until I figure out my next move is another thing I'll be forever thankful to them for.

In another life, it's with Edward.

I try to give her the same look back but I probably fail miserably.

"You scared the shit out of me. I tried to wake you up and I couldn't. I thought you'd hit your head. I asked the bartender to find Em and with all the commotion, Edward made sure you were okay. He followed us over here to take sure you were okay."

I nod, it sounds like the Edward I knew two years ago.

She watches me for a second, takes a bite of her doughnut but then asks, "I know I'm not supposed to talk about him, or that time; before... but I've never listened to you." she shrugs, "I'm just wondering; is now the time for you to listen to him; maybe talk to him like an adult?"

The question repeats in my mind the whole day, but I think I already know the answer.

—

The door closing wakes me up, Edward stands in the doorway.

"Bella."

I look around, it's dark outside and I have no idea what time it is. I try to look at my phone, but it's dead.

He walks over to me slowly and sits on the coffee table in front of me. He looks sorry, and I know he's beating himself up over this.

"Hey." The way he looks at me, it takes me back to before; before I found out Charlie is sick, before we got married and before we went to Spain.

"Bella, I..." I don't let him finish, and maybe it's selfish, but the thought of kissing him, forgetting why he's here, why I'm here; everything else can wait... I just need him.

So, I do.

"Bring me upstairs." I say, forehead against his and pulling him to me by his shirt; then he's carrying me up the stairs to my old bedroom.

Even though it's been a few months, the room still looks the same. I spot the picture I took of Edward on the beach the day he told me about going to Spain before he puts me on the bed, and my attention immediately goes back to him. I pull off Charlies flannel, throwing it in the corner.

Edward hovers over me, pushing a piece of hair out of my face, then he trails his hand down the valley of my breast, to the bottom of my shirt. He pulls that off, and then he's unhooking my bra; looking at me the way he used to. My hands find his shirt, pulling it off.

He finishes undressing me, and then himself. All I want is for him to touch me.

"Bella." He says, watching me.

"I need you, please."

He pulls me closer, and he kisses me soft but his hands are hard, rough and they don't stay in one place for long.

When he enters me his movements are soft, slow and it feels just right.

We breathe each other in and out.

His tongue finds my nipple, biting and tugging. My hands go to his hair, pulling.

My fingers scraping down his back when I come undone.

He comes next, breathing my name and it sounds like a prayer; something he doesn't want to say too loud and wants to keep close to him as long as possible.

After when we're cleaned up, and cuddled in bed together he holds me as close as possible. He kisses my forehead and it's the last thing I remember before Charlie's house phone rings and my world implodes a little bit more.