Ruthless and Ivory (Twilight Fan Fiction)

Chapter 30: Guilt

Chapter 30 - Guilt

Chandelier crystals shine the brightest I think. Or maybe just in this room. Light resides here and so does a peaceful Edward who sleeps. I've never seen him like this. The pucker on his brow isn't present like it always is. I awake to soft lips on my chest. Fiery hair tickling my neck.

I lie here staring at walls that play clips of yesterday and hopeful tomorrows. I don't want to ever leave this place. But there are still problems that need to be fixed. For now, I run curious hands over his body.

I inch away until I'm free from under him. He needs to sleep but I can't help it. I want to see his other scars, too.

Sheets are tangled around legs so I pull them until some spills off the bed. And there he is. I sit back and watch his back fill again and again. His arms bundle a pillow under his chin.

I bite my lip because even with all the scars that aren't inked, he's still gorgeous. How did I ever get him to love me? Then I remember him telling me. I could hear those words forever. The first time he killed for me. I try to remember when that was.

On a hip I trace a circle that was once a bullet. And then another on the other side of his shoulder. A long gash of skin is plump like a vein on a rib. I trace that one. And my god, it's amazing he's still alive.

Cotton settles on the dip of his back and I pull on that. I see indents of nails. Maybe I shouldn't mark him more than he already is. I hold back from chuckling loud. Geez. Such a whore, Bella. I bite my tongue hard to not dig my teeth on his ass or the dimples on the small of his back, finally waking him. I look away or i'll do it. I swear.

His thighs are relaxed with a bent knee. But my smile turns when I see a bigger scar there. It's pink and healed but I wonder how it got there. I sigh, promising myself I won't let him go through anymore if I could help it. To ruin his body any further. It's mine now.

But all of this is proof of his growth. His muscles curve more since I remember. His recuperation was tougher than mine a year ago. I remember Rosalie's words.

I crawl from the end of the bed to his neck. Soap. We ended up here after his outrage. Took a shower at once, still clinging to one another. Tears mixed with water, telling him over and over how much I loved him.

I don't ever want to see him like that as long as I live. I made him promise he wouldn't hurt himself as I washed off the blood from his peeling knuckles.

I think he forgave me. I hope. Or I'll use my whole lifetime to plead, to make him understand.

He sighs in his sleep and my eyes go to his face to make sure he didn't wake. If he found me checking him out I'd be mortified. Dead.

"Stop staring at my ass, Bella." He turns his head to find a cold spot and continues to sleep.

And there it is. How does he always know? I cover my mouth and crawl back to my spot as quick as I can.

"Scars. Not exactly your ass, per se. But it was there, so I guess I did take a peek." He doesn't respond. I roll my eyes and bite on a smile. Jerk.

I remember yesterday. Us here. Finally together. We never left. We slept from exhaustion. The long night and day filled with a rescue, a chase, a plane crash and this. He pulled me from the shower in a towel and we drifted. I tried to hold back more tears that dripped on our pillow. But i couldn't. My brain re-lived things in my sleep. I'd start awake to a thumb over my lids, wiping tears away. No words exchanged, just letting sleep fade sadness away.