The Outlier

TWENTY-EIGHT

I argued among myself whether it'd be appropriate to call the chief and tell him where his daughter is. After all, she was sound asleep on my couch that reeked of cheap cigarettes. I walked over to my phone, planning to call Chief Swan when I saw a small folded note on my kitchen counter. 

Get the girl out. I want to come in. 

- E. C


"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I stuffed the note deep into the pockets of my joggers, having no intentions of ever letting Bella see it. 

I walked over to where Bella was asleep, planning to wake her gently. I clasped my hand tightly over my mouth, stifling a gasp once I saw what was happening. Her face was flushed with a bright red, small beads of sweat on her forehead. 

"Mmm. Edward..." 

Bella's hand was placed between her thighs were pressed tightly together, her hips bucking and twitching occasionally. Soft moans escaped her mouth, sounding too quiet to have been noticed if I wasn't standing a foot away from her. 

I shook her awake. "Bella," I whispered. "Bella!" 

She stirred awake, falling off the couch in regular Bella-manner. 

"What happened?" she managed to slur. 

"You fell asleep. You should go home, Chief will be worried," I advised her, guilt slowly seeping into my insides. 

"Did I talk in my sleep?" she muttered in embarrassment. 

Yes. 

"No." 

"You didn't talk in your sleep," I shook my head, "you were fine." 

"Okay, I need to go," she finally hummed, her voice still groggy. 

She didn't need to know what she was saying in her sleep. Soon, she pulled herself together, using the window to fix up her reflection. She stretched her arms towards me, a hug I gladly reciprocated before pulling away and bidding her goodbye. 

☉☾

"Must you befriend Bella?" I heard Edward's muffled voice chastise from behind me.

I turned back to face him. His face was covered with his hand. Even without seeing the bottom half of his face, I could see that it was contorted into a grimace. I scooted over on the sofa where Bella was seated. I didn't want to leave the sofa, after all, Gossip Girl was still playing. 

"Why do you hate my friend so much?" I asked, not answering his own question.

"I only hate her for making me want her so bad," he responded, his voice clearer but his nose wrinkled in discomfort. 

I shot him a look, almost teasing him for answering in a way that can leave room for miscommunication. I raised my eyebrow, a smirk playing at the sides of my mouth. My silent teasing was interrupted by a pillow in my face, the scent of tobacco wafting straight into my nostrils. 

"That's what you get for trying to delude yourself into thinking I want Bella in that way," he laughed. 

"Fine, I'll drop it," I huffed once I recovered from the betrayal. 

"Seriously?" he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. 

"You'll stop trying to set me up with Bella?" he clarified. 

"That's not what I meant," I scoffed. 

"Should've known it was too good to be true," he muttered, loud enough for me to hear.