Evening Star: Edward's Story

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Setting Boundaries

Sorry I'm posting so late; I spent all weekend working on my online Macbeth class. I had students plagiarizing each others' work (UGGGHHH!) so had a horribly stressful week last week and so much work piled up. But I hope to get back to posting on weekends again this week! Thanks for being patient.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Setting Boundaries

I looked up into Bella's beautiful face from my recumbent position on the blanket, noting her furrowed brow, a sure sign of worry. I let out the breath I was holding in a rush, sucking in another deep breath to calm myself, to prepare myself for this difficult conversation on which hinged so much...everything, in fact.

Raising myself to a sitting position, I reached for Bella's soft, warm hands, and immediately I felt comforted by her touch. Shifting herself to sit in front of me, her forehead wrinkled more deeply in anxiety. Eyes wide, she cleared her throat awkwardly before whispering, “Edward, what is it?” Seeming unwilling to maintain our eye contact, she looked down at our joined hands and murmured, “You're scaring me.”

“No, no, Bella,” I rushed to assure her. “There's nothing to be scared of, love. I promise.”

She took a deep, calming breath but kept her eyes averted. “Then what's going on?” she asked in a small voice.

“I need to speak to you regarding an important issue.” I realized that I sounded more like a businessman than a seventeen-year-old boy in love, but then, I was hardly either seventeen nor a boy, I thought derisively.

Bella glanced up at me through her long lashes, a little wary, but said nothing, allowing me to talk.

Starting this conversation was harder, much harder than I thought it would be. I loved Bella with every part of my being, but I had to draw a line here, for her safety first, but also for my own sanity. It was difficult enough to hold her all night and keep ourselves chaste, but kissing her deeply and pushing the boundaries of our physical relationship was so wonderful...and so potentially deadly. I loved my Bella too much to risk killing her by allowing our physical relationship to progress any further. As much as I wanted Bella, I was struggling as it was with some of what we were doing in our more passionate moments.

Despite my century of existence on this earth and the wisdom I had gathered over the years, physically I am still a seventeen-year-old boy who wants his girlfriend in every way possible. I want to be as close to her as we can be, and the sexual tension between us keeps building and building. But my control, which Bella trusts implicitly, is far from perfect, and I hunger for both her body and for her blood in ways that both excite and frighten me. But how to explain it to her?

I was going to have to put the blame right where it belonged—on myself—and confess my weakness like a man. I almost smiled at the irony of acting “like a man” in this situation, but I had no choice now; I had to tell her somehow.

Gathering my courage, my thoughts, and my words, I took another deep breath and looked Bella squarely in the eyes, trying very hard not to lose my train of thought while drowning in the warm, chocolate depths of her loving but concerned gaze.

“Bella, I am struggling, sweetheart,” I breathed.

She held my intense gaze, her eyebrows raising in confusion. “With what?” she asked, also in a whisper.

“With wanting you.”

Bella drew back a little, totally clueless. “What do you mean?”

I leaned toward her, earnestly gazing into her beautiful eyes. “You know the monster that I am, how I want you in ways dangerous for you.”