Wide awake

Chapter Ten Wrathful Walnut Fudge

E.P.O.V

I left Bella to go to English class with a heavy sigh. I’ve broken all of my fucking rules. I can’t exactly regret doing it. I watched the whole thing play out from my table. My brave girl with her chin up and her back straight, looking all grown up and staring down the monster. Using poor, unsuspecting Emmet as her guinea pig. I was proud. Then I was hopeful. Then I was scared. Then I was pissed.

Admittedly, though I’d take the fact to my grave, a tiny part of my brain was contemplating whether or not this aversion of Bella’s was as bad as she made it out to be. I’d never witnessed it first hand. And she had not only allowed me to touch her, but hold her against my body. It just seemed a little far fetched that I was really that different from everyone else.

But when I saw the whole thing happen, I felt like shit for even thinking something like that. Because obviously, it was exactly as bad as she made it out to be. That primary emotion of complete guilt is what compelled me to leave the lunchroom. Thankfully, Jazz hadn’t noticed the Weird Emotional Breakdown unfolding behind him. So I gave him some bullshit story about how I had to go smoke a cigarette, and I ran after my girl.

When I found her at the back of the school, all fucking curled up and shaking, it was the complete opposite of the Bella I saw in the lunchroom, ready to face the monster. She looked just like a lost little girl, crying and gasping, and just needing someone to fucking be there. So I broke the rules. Because her monster won, and nothing I ever did could be worse than that.

Still, more than ever I needed to stick to the rules. Because if anyone ever found out I had Bella sleeping in my bed every night, they’d get it all wrong. They’d assume all the wrong shit. She’d be the victim, and I’d be the asshole manipulator. And Brandon would definitely have me arrested for some sick and twisted shit like that. And I wouldn’t blame her one bit.

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For the next week, Bella and I began to perfect a new routine. She came over earlier, at ten instead of midnight, and she still brought me dinner, and I still loved every fucking bite of it. She listened to music on her spot on the sofa and watched me eat. If we weren’t really tired, she’d read one of my books while I sketched on the bed and we’d just fucking talk about all the bullshit that happened that day. When one of us decided we were too tired to make it any longer, the other would stop what they were doing to get ready for bed. It was a very dependant situation. Always tit for tat.

My girl started feeling more comfortable being in my room. She told me that first night it was like her sanctuary, and as such, I happily granted her unrestricted access to my bathroom, which she used gratefully. She brought another, smaller bag with her, and would always spend at least ten minutes in the bathroom getting cleaned up at night.

When both of us were ready for bed, we would lay down fully clothed over the covers. Bella never removed her hoodie, and I never changed out of my school clothes. I figured we were both more comfortable with multiple layers between us. For the first few nights, there was still a distinct awkwardness that permeated the atmosphere as we climbed into bed. But it never lasted long once I turned the lamp off. It was like instinct or some shit. Turning towards each other and without hesitation, bringing the other into our arms. The feeling of Bella running her tiny fingers through my hair always made me sigh. That shit felt so fucking good. Then after a few moments she’d start humming to me, and I’d hug her to me even tighter, which she always seemed to like. I think that’s what Bella’s trigger was for sleep. She liked being held, felling safe. And for some fucked up reason, I made her feel that way. So I never hesitated in holding her closer. And I could never help myself from gulping in the scent of her silky hair. Flowers and cookies. It was like a lullaby itself.