Lips of an Angel

Chapter 7-One Choice

The moment Edward walked through my office door for his third appointment, I was perfectly prepared for the onslaught of his scent, having caught a whiff of his blood not three days beforehand. Even so, I was surprised by the ease with which I appeared like I was completely unaffected by it. I felt my eyes darken slightly, but not to black as they usually did.

"Good evening, Edward," I said, smiling, with my clipboard perched on my knee.

"Hello, Bella," he said, sighing as he took a seat, the notebook I'd given him a fortnight before held in his left hand. I saw a scrape across his knuckles, and found myself wondering how he'd got it. A fortnight seemed like a very long time ago. How much had changed in that small amount of time? One hell of a lot.

"How are you this week?" I asked, starting with my usual question.

Then I caught myself. "Hang on, I need to say something first."

Edward raised an eyebrow in question.

"I have to apologise for my behaviour when we met at Sam's house in La Push. It was rude of me to run out like that. I was going through a... difficult time. Not that that excuses me for-"

"It's fine," Edward said, interrupting me. A small smile was playing at the edges of his lips. "I understand."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "Now, how have you been?"

"Ugh," Edward said, groaning. "Incredibly frustrated."

"Why?" I asked softly.

"It's just- I- Oh! Why is this so difficult?" Edward put his head in one hand and ran it through his hair, before pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Once again, I felt sympathy for the man in front of me. I wanted to touch his shoulder or something to gain his attention, but with my status as a cold vampire, and his as my singer, I doubted that that would be a good idea.

"It's ok, Edward," I said gently, instead. "It's normal for it to be difficult."

"No. It's not like I'm struggling to say it, and think of it, I just can't explain it..."

"I know, but that's normal. Try to explain it."

Edward took a deep breath.

"I haven't told all of my friends about what happened, but I have told some of them. The ones I have told - they're sympathetic, they say 'I understand', and they talk about it and encourage me to talk to them about it. But they don't fucking understand. I don't want them to be sympathetic. I don't want to talk to them about it, because they're really fucking unhelpful! It's always 'I understand, Edward', or 'it's ok'. But they don't understand! And it's not ok! It never will be ok! This fucking bastard has made an impact on my life, and they pretend that they know what it feels like! I don't want their sympathy, or their advice, and I don't want to talk about it! Not with them! But no, they don't get the bloody hint. Of course not."

Edward's chest was heaving when he'd finished, and his face was flushed from shouting. For a moment, I sat silently, giving Edward the chance to continue where he'd left off, if he wanted to, but he didn't. He merely let his head fall backwards, and closed his eyes. Poor guy.

"I'm going to be a bit annoying now," I said, smiling a little. "I do understand. I hated people saying that too. It helped me much more if they just listened, and didn't say anything. I just wanted to rant about how my life had been ruined, and that it would never be the same again." This last point was, of course, more true for me than it was for most people.

Edward nodded wearily.

"But your life will go back to normal, I can promise you. My life did change, a lot, but it was ok. I got through it."