Chapter Fifty Five. Flotsam Florentines Part 2

151 1 0
                                    

E.P.O.V

Saturday was my day, but Sunday was Bella’s. She was sitting next to me on the leather sofa as she nibbled on her sandwich. I had shamelessly inhaled mine like a motherfucking Neanderthal. How she wasn’t completely repulsed by me was beyond my understanding, but there she was, all fucking smiles and subtle movements to get closer to me. I inwardly rolled my eyes at her failed stealth, just willing her to stop being so fucking apprehensive. 

When I’d awoken to yet another over-the-top meal waiting for me, I was a little annoyed. She couldn’t possibly do this shit every morning. Sheepishly, she’d admitted that she’d been hungry and simply didn’t like the idea of making food for only herself. Skeptical yet pleased that she’d made an effort to fulfill my request from the previous morning, I’d eventually joined her on the sofa to eat.

“Yoga is the worst,” she continued with a sour expression that made me chuckle lazily. She had been explaining her schedule to me for the last hour. Before that, she’d explained therapy and her medication in more detail. Our thirteen hours of sleep had made her eager and uncharacteristically open. Or maybe it had just been her freeing honesty from dinner the previous night, I wasn’t sure. 

She tried to get more discussion out of me about Chicago, but I wanted to spend a day without having to think or talk about it. It was so fucking emotionally exhausting. After I’d told her this, I’d asked her to tell me about her summer instead. And therapy, of course. I wasn’t thrilled about the concept of Bella divulging everything about us to a complete stranger. It made me uneasy and wary when she’d admitted that I’d come up on more than one occasion. I also wasn’t thrilled about the idea of her boxing with someone that could knock her pretty little teeth out.

But I sucked that shit up and plastered on a smile, because what I was thrilled about was the glimmer of accomplishment and pride in her eyes when she spoke of it. I kept telling myself that was all that mattered. 

“Yoga,” I pursed my lips and flung my hair out of my eyes. “Isn’t that where you get all flexible and shit—with the weird names, like ‘Humping Zebra’ or something?” I asked, grinning. Her trilling giggle was like a breath of fresh air, and I reveled in it unabashedly as she threw her head back and snorted.

“Pretty much,” she nodded with a wry smile. “It came highly recommended by Carmen, though, so…” she trailed off with a shrug, sighing. This Carmen woman had come up more in the last two hours than Esme and Alice combined. I felt envious that this stranger probably knew more about her than I did anymore.

I glimpsed at Bella’s creeping proximity and sighed, exasperated with her timid bullshit. Without much thought, I moved closer, her eyes guarded as our sides met. I probably should have been a little more careful as I sank deeper, but I eventually decided, Fuck it, and just rested my head on her shoulder. I yawned, slapping the hair out of my eyes and was secretly grateful that Esme had been insistent on getting it cut. She turned her head a bit, looking down at me as she slowly relaxed into the suddenness of my proximity. 

We sat in silence like that for a long time. I picked up her hand and traced the lines of her palm with my finger, like she’d done for me the day before, just generally enjoying the casual touching that we could sometimes do without awkwardness. I wondered how long it would be before that wore off completely. Maybe it never would.

Disrupting my silent mulling, she eventually whispered, “Can we talk about the day you left, when we…” She trailed off as my body went rigid.

I squeezed my eyes shut, uncertain if I was ready to even begin thinking of it, let alone talking about it. “Do we really have to?” I asked, pleading as I tilted my head to gaze at her. 

Wide awakeWhere stories live. Discover now