Mute girl

Chapter twenty - Fun and Games.

A/N Sup, dudes? (I'm trying to be cool, just go along with it)
So these dope characters and rad settings ain't my swag to show off, they belong to mah bro SM, so don't give me no beef about it, right bruh?

*Dabs* *accidentally hits myself in the face* *falls to the floor — but with style*

When Edward stepped into the room my heart couldn't help but skip a beat. He was Adonis, a god, a statue of unreasonable beauty, and yet he was as cold as any marble. His face was cloudy; guilt weighing heavily on brilliant black eyes and smooth, chiselled lips.

"Edward," Esme smiled anxiously, sitting down next to me with the grace of a ballerina. He didn't reply, his expression unreadable in a sea of emotions. I studied his face; taking in the copper coloured hair, the pale skin and the painful grimace in less than a second, allowing myself to linger only on his eyes, and begging him to let me read him.

He leaned against the doorway, waiting for me to say something. "Hey," I said timidly, my voice too quiet to hear the raspy sound it made, from being so long out of use. Edward didn't move, standing as still as any thousand-year-old statue you would see in Athens. His eyes swept over mine, as if seeing me there for the first time. "Good morning Isabella," I was jarred by his use of my full name, the four long syllables seeming too formal when they were coming from his mouth.

"You wanted to talk?" I didn't have it in me to start the conversation, as I couldn't bear to be the one to hurt him first. "Yes," his eyes dropped to the floor, his emotions overwhelming him. "I wanted to apologise, my dear Isabella, for my behaviour yesterday. I was callous and unthoughtful and altogether loathsome; and I just wanted to say that I am sorry to the core of being for ever making you cry."

I couldn't look at him, my palms were already sweaty and my head was all hot. "It's okay," I muttered, letting my hair fall over my face in a curtain. "I... I couldn't..." I struggled to find the words to tell him what I felt, to overcome the terrible stutter threatening to consume me. "... I couldn't cope. I'm sorry, " I suddenly burst into tears, the realisation that I would never be 'okay' suddenly dawning on me. "I'm sorry for being so broken, and because I can't ever be fixed — I'm sorry that I'm only ever going to hurt you, and that I'm going to spend my entire life trying to fix the pieces of me that are smashed, even though I'll never truly be the same again and —"

And Esme was holding me, her cold arms pulling me tight into her chest, burying my face in her hair. She wiped the tears away from my face with her thumb, murmuring sweet nothings into my ear, though they were far too quiet for me to listen properly to what she said.

"Oh, Isabella," I couldn't see Edward through Esme's hair, but his voice sounded much closer, even if it was quieter. "You don't need to be sorry, since none of this is your fault. You must never, ever feel as if you are to blame for this mess, because you're not, and I am amazed everyday by how much strength you have." But I knew that I wasn't strong — how could I be, when I felt like everything was going to break me? The smooth resonance in his voice only further proved my point — he was lying, to spare my feelings, but he was in pain, too.

I cried harder into Esme's shoulder. "Oh, darling," she whispered, stroking my hair softly. "Edward, I-I can't ... I can't cope... I don't think... I don't think I can deal with this anymore."

He didn't say anything, his entire body frozen up in shock. Esme paused, trying to figure out what I was saying. "Bella, what do you mean?" His tone was detached, but he'd slipped back into using my normal name, a sure sign of his dread. Pulling away from Esme I slunk back into the bed, making myself as small as possible.

"I mean that... that I don't think either of us are okay with what's happened... and I think that maybe we shouldn't—" Date? Was that the right word? It seemed to casual, too normal for what ever it was we had.

"You want to break up with me?"

He could have been talking about the weather.

I gasped, the wind knocked out of my lungs. It was so final, so devastating and heartbreaking, how would I cope? I didn't know, but I thought that with everything that had happened, this would be minor in comparison. I was wrong, this hurt like bricks. I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping calm. I had to do this, I had to do it for Edward.

"Yes," I said, barely any louder than a whisper. My heart stopped — or maybe it sped up — regardless, I could no longer hear it beating in my ears. I must have been dead.

"Of course, Isabella," and then he left, leaving my full name with me.