Ruthless and Ivory (Twilight Fan Fiction)

Chapter 29: Black

Chapter 29 - Black

I cringe. My nails dig into my palms. Like knife in raw skin, tearing, pulling poison out, I watch as Edward's fingers dig into his wound, searching for the bullet. As if watching him use scissors, looped through his thumb and finger, twice, failing every time, wasn't bad enough.

'Shhhit," I hiss. He sighs. His teeth were clamped in a snarl. Pain. His fingers red, stained. Out. He drops the metal in my palm. It skids around, spreading red. "My legs...urgh my legs hurt just watching." He pushes a laugh through his nose as I stomp a foot.

"I'm so sorry," I tell him. He dabs a gauze on his chest. He looks at me through lashes. And then my legs hurt in a different way.

He's even more beautiful. I swear it. He's grown and I've grown. But him, literally. His shoulders set like mounds over his collar bones so strong yet humble. His arms, his chest has filled. Nimble fingers, stained, calloused, take care of his wound so perfectly. How many times has he done this? To survive, to keep going. He never stops. I don't think he's ever taken a deep breath and just stared at a wall.

But it isn't so. I know. Edward was a mess without me. I can't fathom it. What was it like for him? I wonder. Watching him dip his palms in water, pink draining through this small sink. Drips of cleansing water, falling over his chest, tracing a scar so precisely.

I wonder, but I know. Or I've felt the same. The pain of losing him. I, a mess, too.

I grab a towel. The one with the embroidered emblem on it, 'A' for Aro, and whip the drops away. Or I'll lean in, tempted, i'll catch them with these lips I'm digging my teeth into. His skin is mine. His wound is mine. His lips and everything. I'd consume him completely. But all I do, for now, is help him. A towel over his neck and down his peck. He looks into the mirror as we work together. His eyes find mine through the reflection.

Don't we just make that couple we see look so together. They look worn but complete. Every rise of our chest of relief and maybe not completely happy, but getting there.

He catches my fingers with his and its like sparks up my legs to in between. I can barely breathe. I shy away from those eyes and try to smile, hoping the young crushing love doesn't show as much in my nervous hands. I grab gauze and tape and seal his wound shut. His eyes locked to my face, on fire, all the while. Trickling warm breath down my neck. He doesn't say a single word to break this tension he creates. I will suffocate.

The tape seals all edges and he's done. Like Aro's shots never touched him. I hesitate, lingering, making these edges just right. I lean in and a peck right beside the tape. "Like new," I say. And there it is. I knew that would make him hold his breath. I feel his heart quicken under my hand. He watches me still.

I stand on toes and comb my fingers through his hair just to keep my hands moving. I love every strand. The thickness and random locks of red. He dips so I can reach. But I wasn't ready for his intention. He lifts me. My heart slams in my chest and so does my butt on the sink.

He presses his hips between and my palms move down to his cheeks. No dancing around the want, the yearning. He dives right into my lips. Not a second of hesitation. And I'm a desperate woman of sighs and moaning. Yes. His hair now a mess.

His tongue demanding and the closeness of his chest. My head bags on the mirror and his teeth are on my neck. It could be here. I could spread wider and let it happen here. I'd do anything. With these lips on me surging heat. Fuck, I'd give in. Rose, Paul and problems outside be damned. I want him.

His hand curves into my collar and pulls on fabric. No bra to hold him back. I whimper so loudly with his mouth around my breast. I can barely watch without crumbling. His lips on mine again.