A Constant in The Darkness

Chapter Eighteen - It's Hard to Tell When You're in the Spell

Darlings,

Hello dear readers and new friends! I'm quite overwhelmed by your comments and love for these characters. Thank you so much for engaging in this story with me.

ilsuocantante...Thank you my dear for your quite generous rec on The Lazy Yet Discerning Ficster. If you haven't already, you should read her rec, there's a link to it on my profile page, as well as a link to her profile in case you want to read some incredibly delicious stories! I owe you big bb!

Lovely beta n7of9...Don't you love her madly, don't you need her badly? Um, yes and yes! Thank you sweets, for all the time and effort you dedicate to this little fic, we (me and the story) appreciate you so much!

Disclaimer: It's not mine...

...

BPOV

A labyrinth of moss-covered trees surrounds me as I make my way through the green maze. The forest is silent and eerily void of the usual sounds of life, the empty abyss throbbing in my ears and pressing against my head with agonizing pressure. I rush frantically through the dark, overgrown brush, my clothing catching on the thick branches, bark and thorns scraping at my skin causing small abrasions to glow red in the darkness. I am alone, solitary, searching, wandering through the forest. The path vanishes, my trail obsolete as I blindly navigate through the growth, my feet failing to find traction and slipping in the moist dirt. I can't keep my feet beneath me, can't stand on my own legs, but I have to keep searching or I am lost, everything about my life gone and vacant. I keep moving faster and faster, spiraling through the darkness, careening through the silence, trying to figure out what is missing. What am I searching for? Suddenly, like a black veil blanketing my soul in darkness, I realize there's nothing; I have nothing, I am nothing. I fall, my hands plunging into the wet leaf trodden ground, dirt spraying into my face, soil and clay sticking to my hands and caking into my clothing. I fall, hopeless and alone...

Startled and jolting awake, my heart pounding in my chest and a film of sweat dewing on my forehead and chest, I found myself submerged in a sea of blankets and warmth, Edward's arm draped across my waist and his warm breath tickling my hair. I clutched onto him, wrapped my arms around him and burrowed my face into his chest and inhaled, sweet honey warmth flooding my senses, making sure he was real, that this was real. I felt him breathe, rising and falling with him, my body on top of his, sharing the rhythmic pulse and just reveling in the beauty and passion of what we shared in the quiet stillness of the night.

Fatigue had crept up on me as I snuggled into my sleeping bag, the down and vinyl a baneful barrier between me and Edward. Between the hiking, the puking and the crying, I was exhausted, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. I had awoken a few short hours later freezing my ass off and desperate to be close to Edward, wanting to wrap myself around him just to feel his comfort. I had crawled into his sleeping bag, the small space so warm and soothing and permeating with his scent. My eyes drank in every bit of sleeping Edward, so vulnerable and peaceful, the features of his face relaxed and just sweet and beautiful and pure, the quiet troubled expression he always carried with him completely removed as he lingered in his dreamy trance. His breath was even and pulsing, the skin of his lower stomach exposed and inciting my more covetous nature.

I kissed his still lips, not really trying to wake him but unable to control the need to feel him, to touch every inch of his lovely soul. But my roaming hands had a mind of their own, pulling up his shirt to trace the contoured lines of his stomach, and soon Edward was awake and colliding with me, pulling me onto him as we made love, the quiet stillness of the open night sky privy to our physical display. I fell asleep in his arms, completely content with the universe and my lady karma, knowing in that moment of silent perfection that I was exactly where I should be.

This dream had gone and fucked that all to hell, reminding me of my shortcomings, that I wasn't good enough for Edward, that I might never be and he might leave me because of it, my own subconscious plotting my demise. What the fuck is wrong with my brain? Why couldn't it just let me be happy and content? I found myself spiraling into deep contemplative thoughts about my own thinking and the perceptions that had led me to the place I dwelt, unable to go back to sleep and just fucking the shit out of my own mind in a depraved session of mental masturbation as I continued to rise and fall on Edward's chest, the robins and jays welcoming the dawn from their high sanctuary while my own thoughts became further muddled the more I tried to make sense of them.

I searched my mind, recalling those first feelings of deprecation that had led to the purging and how I had let it take control. It had started as a way to forget him; my father, my past life, my comfortable existence. It was a replacement for the gaping wound I had felt in my chest, the pain of hunger nothing compared to the pain of indifference. I had spent my first five years in Phoenix wondering when he was going to call. With every birthday or Christmas I'd wait for a card, a note, anything that demonstrated that he knew I was here, that he remembered me, that I even existed. Every year I was met with disappointment, rejection, unanswered questions, conclusions I had drawn myself, none of it healthy to my very confused and very young brain. I spent those years trying to figure out what I had done wrong, what didn't he like about me, what I could have done better. Was I too noisy when he came home from work? Maybe I should have kept my room cleaner. Maybe I should have gotten better grades in school. Theory after theory ran through my awareness, all trying to understand what had changed and how I could get it to change back.

The last two years were spent trying to forget. I wanted to forget his tobacco smell and forget his mustached face, but most of all I wanted to forget his food, his comfort, the way he had provided care. I wanted control of this fucked up situation I had been forced into. I didn't want to feel that ache in my chest anymore. Purging, abstaining from food, these disorders provided that for me. These were the answers I had created for myself.

I had been here since March, living with him every day, the man who could give me all the answers I had ever wanted, and I was no closer to knowing the truth than the ten year old little girl who was pulled from her comfy bed in the middle of the night in the darkness seven years ago.

And now there is this, Edward's body rolling beneath me, the sound of his steady heart beating against my ear at his chest. This heartbeat pulsated for me, throbbed beneath flesh and bone to bring me different answers, negating the answers which I had created to destroy myself and replacing them with the will to rebuild, evident in the way Edward had cared for me, even at my very lowest and most despicable form, curled and twisted in desolate relief.

By the time the others started to stir the sun was creeping through the trees, beginning to warm the earth beneath us. A fine sheen of dew had settled on the camp, bathing the greenery in glistening beads that glittered like diamonds in the early morning light. A few drops had collected on Edward's exposed arm, his sleeve pushed up around his elbow, causing the light to dance and cast an iridescent sparkle across his skin, the perfect crystallized spheres holding their shape on his arm. It was breathtaking and I found myself wondering what beauty I would behold if dew rested on Edward's muscled shoulders and the contours of his stomach and chest, decorating the swirls of soft hair just above his waistband, the transparent liquid reflecting the light and causing him to sparkle all over. A light brisk breeze drifted through the clearing, whispering through the tall grass and ruffling my hair, sending a light chill across my bare arms. I sat up searching for my sweatshirt when I noticed Alice was awake, her eyes flickering to my empty sleeping bag as her lips curled into a knowing grin. Finally finding my sweatshirt, the thick cotton slightly damp and cool, I pulled the fabric over my head, unable to suppress a grin back at her as I curled into Edward's side. She rolled back to her side, snuggling against Jasper and drifting off to sleep.

Edward had felt me stir and, still entrenched in slumber, dreamily reached over to run his fingers through my hair a few times before resting his hand on his chest close to my face. I noticed a smeared blur of purple and red on the inside of his palm and directly below his thumb as he had laid his hand down gingerly so as not to disturb the mark. I, however, sat up directly, absolutely positive I knew when that crime had taken place and I was even surer that I was the guilty party who had inflicted such a mark. I slowly lifted his hand to inspect the wound. A faint red blend of skin and blood tinged around the outer edges of a small crescent on the fleshy thick part of his palm, teeth marks bruised into his hand, a scab already formed on the broken skin.

I brought his hand close to my face, inspecting the tiny details of the mark. I slid my thumb over it trying to see if it would disappear but there it was, glowing vibrant red, a physical manifestation of my lack of control, fashioned in a fit of lovely and euphoric passion. I couldn't regret the mark because it symbolized such pleasure, such intensity in our union, and to be honest I felt a little satisfied in knowing that I had been the one to mark him, my claim on him swelling on his palm. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little freaked out by this, that Edward would let me mutilate him this way and that I would take advantage of his selflessness. I had done so unknowingly, of course, but still, that I was even capable of hurting him and that my subconscious had allowed it was messing with my self perceptions.

I was still pondering the mark when the hand I was holding started to flex. I looked up to find Edward smiling, hazy sleep still thick in his eyes. Leaving his scarred hand in mine, he brought his other hand to tangle in his hair, inhaling deeply and scratching at his messy splay of reds and browns. He brought his hand to wrap around me, pulling me into his sanctified embrace, blurring and wiping away any of the mind fuckery I had been previously consumed by as I scooted up to nuzzle my face into the warmth of his neck, breathing into the space and instinctually placing little kisses on his skin. His hand moved to trail the length of my spine, occasionally tangling in the strays of my messy hair, and I could have laid there forever, the tingling of my scalp and back begging each of my muscles to melt as I collapsed my weight onto him.

"Morning," Edward whispered lazily, his velvety voice husky in the morning quiet. I felt his lips against my forehead, his nose pressed against the skin. I tilted my head and brought my mouth to his and his lips pursed, fearing the dreaded morning breath, I'm sure, but I didn't care. I wanted to wake up like this every day, every morning being able to wrap my arms around him, finding instant relief and calm, every morning just for us. Morning breath seemed awfully insignificant in comparison to these more pressing concerns. "Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning…"

I smiled into his kiss at this realization and he pulled back, squinting his lucid green eyes, his pupils shying in the sunlight and making room for the jade iridescence.

"What are you grinning at?" Edward asked, his own lips smiling in accordance with mine.

"You. This," I said quietly, relishing in the sweet ease of this early morning exchange. I knew our time together like this was limited, the swishing of vinyl restlessness surrounding us informing me that we would soon be interrupted with laughing comments and grumbles of early morning risers.

Sensing we only had a few moments left, I moved my fingers to twist into the waves at the base of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine again, a renewed fervor in the press. I slipped my tongue across his lips, begging for entrance, his tongue pulling mine into his mouth, the swirling and pulsing of our mouths an undulating swell of heat and panting breaths. His hand slid under my sweatshirt, pressing firm against my back and sliding up to grip my shoulder, his fingers digging into the curve of my neck.

I shifted to straddle his lap and felt him already hard beneath my pajama bottoms, the layers of material shifting and pulling as I moved my hips to create the friction that my body was craving. Heat pulsated between my thighs as Edward ghosted his hand across my side to fondle my breast, his hand cupping the fleshy mound while his fingers twisted and pulled at my nipple. Fuck, his hands felt so right against my body, the contact satiating the ever present desire I had for him, sucking him into my gravity and yearning to absorb every particle of him.

We heard the unzipping of a sleeping bag. I wasn't sure where it came from so I slowly slinked off of Edward's lap, situating myself into my earlier position at his side. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly as he turned to meet my eyes, a coy smile on his flush lips.

Jasper stood up, running his hands through his hair and yawning. He stumbled over towards the ravine and proceeded to piss under the sanctuary of a tree. I stifled a giggle, Edward trailing his thumb across my lips as I flicked my tongue out to lick the tip of his finger. His hand cradled my face as he slowly pressed his lips to mine. I clutched at his waist, my hand slipping beneath his sweatpants and folding my fingers around his hard cock. He was so warm and smooth in my hand and I offered him slow caresses, pausing as we heard Jasper walking back over towards the camp. I don't know why, but this sneaky shit was so fucking hot, an incredible turn-on, and I could feel my own excitement dampening my panties.

I continued to noiselessly and so very slowly pull on Edward's dick, pumping and twisting and running my fingers to press into every crease I could feel, a small bit of fluid oozing onto my hand. I wanted that bit of fluid on my tongue so I brought my hand to my mouth, licking my skin and tasting Edward as he bent his head to mine, a low "fuck" slithering from his lips.

Just then we heard a loud groan from beside us. Emmett had rolled over noisily, grumbling and moaning, multiple complaints of uncomfortable sleep spewing in sarcastic chides as Rosalie sat up and fixed her hair, tying it back with an elastic band. Alice was also stirring, stretching and running her hands through her poufs of black hair as Jasper sat at the table, lighting a cigarette. Alice jumped up to join him and I grinned at Edward, a pained expression upon his face as I shifted my leg to rub against his erection. He pushed me away, groaning and turning away from me, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his predicament.

"What's so funny?" Emmett asked, his face muddled in confusion as Rosalie neatly folded her sleeping bag and threw it in their tent. This just caused me to giggle further. Edward took his pillow and threw it at me causing me to lose my balance, falling over and erupting into hysterical laughter.

"Edward had a funny dream, that's all," I laughed, moving to wrap my arms around Edward who had now submerged himself in his sleeping bag.

I poked my head under the sleeping bag, finding Edward's face in the dark, hot hiding place.

"Hi," I whispered, kissing his nose softly.

"Hey," he responded, a smile playing on his lips.

"How's your…um, situation?" I asked him, running my fingers through his soft coppery hair.

"I'll be fine in a minute," he rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized.

"I'm not," Edward grinned, pressing his lips to mine under the darkness of the blanket, slow, languid kisses, his breath tickling my cheeks and causing me to flush with warmth.

"Okay, you have to go. Otherwise I'm going to be under this blanket all fucking day." I kissed him again, a quiet peck on the cheek, and left him to harness his rampant hormones.

There was already a fire crackling in the pit. Jasper and Emmett had walked down the hill to retrieve the food totes and ice chests and were carrying them back up to the campsite as Alice grabbed a metal teapot from the supplies. They soon had breakfast cooking, the steam rising from the pot as the water boiled for oatmeal. We opened the instant packets and dumped them into small paper bowls, adding the water to hydrate the oats.

Edward joined us soon after, kissing my cheek and mixing his own bowl of oatmeal as we sat by the early morning fire. I brushed my teeth and washed my face by the ravine, the melted mountain snow freezing my face. The boys wanted to take their paintball guns into the forest again; their need to mercilessly shoot each other with balls filled with paint apparently had not been fulfilled. They left soon after rolling up the sleeping bags, this time in full paintball gear; helmets, masks, gloves, pants, and long-sleeved shirts to minimize the sting.

As soon as they left, I walked far from the camp to pee, just praying my limited balancing skills wouldn't fail me. When I returned, Rosalie and Alice were sitting around the fire, deep in conversation, their faces stressed and creased. Obviously, they were talking about something serious.

"I told him he should move in with us, Carlisle already said it would be fine. With Emmett moving out, we'd totally have the space. But you know your brother, he doesn't want a handout, wants to do everything on his own," Alice was saying as I walked up to the campsite, taking a seat beside her. "He said if he stays at home he'll only have to put off school for a year, but if he moves out it'll be longer because he won't be able to save the cash he makes at the store, he'd have to pay bills and shit."

"Well, I'm just glad I'm leaving. They're going to end up killing each other. Ever since your little stint at the graduation party they've been fighting like crazy. My mother threatens to disown him every day, strip him of his inheritance. But it's like he just doesn't give a fuck anymore. He used to pretend, tell them what they wanted to hear, but now he doesn't even pretend. He just tells them to fuck off if they say anything to him," Rose added.

"I know, but somebody had to say something. What they do to him, to both of you, it is seriously fucked up," Alice sighed. They were quiet a moment, watching the flames lick at the side of the metal ring of the fire pit. Jasper had been at the Cullens' practically every day over the last two weeks, ever since Alice called his parents 'assholes' in front of everybody at the graduation party. I guess his parents told him he had to break things off with Alice and, of course, he told them to go fuck themselves, and now they were in the middle of a huge family battle royale. I wasn't sure about the details but Jasper hadn't been home much, only to get some clothes and stuff. He'd even spent the night at the Cullens' a couple times, Alice camping out on the couch with him downstairs.

"I know Alice, but college is expensive and there's no fucking way I'm going to live the rest of my life in that hellhole they call a home. I know it sounds completely fucked, but if Jasper would just try to appease them, play their little game, money wouldn't be an issue. And then, after he has more of a financial foothold, then he can go do whatever the fuck he wants. It's a means to an end, an end that's going to get me the fuck away from them." Alice didn't respond, her serene features burdened with frustration.

"Besides, I don't really give a fuck about college anyway. I'm only going because I want to be where Emmett is. It doesn't really matter what I study," Rosalie added.

"That's bullshit and you know it. But whatever, do what they want Rose, but you'll never get away from them, not really. It'll always be something, whether it's college or a big fancy wedding or your dream house, it'll always be too easy to compromise yourself, indulge in your 'means to an end'. Sure, you'll have your 'end', but shit, Rose, isn't it the means that matters most?" Alice retorted. Rosalie was shocked, her mouth gaping in stunned silence. Shit, this was not going to be pretty. Whatever passive and resigned Rose I'd seen at that graduation dinner was long gone now. This Rose looked like she wanted to literally rip Alice's head off.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Alice. You're just a little girl, living in your idealistic, pot-induced haze of rebellion and nonconformity. This is what adults do, they compromise, because something, anything is better than this fucking status quo. When you grow up you'll discover it's not all about ideals. Then again, maybe you want to spend your life festering in know-it-all self-righteousness." Rosalie stood up and stalked off towards the ravine, her long blond ponytail swinging with her furious gait.

I looked at Alice, her green eyes blinking in keen contemplation as she gazed into the morning fire still smoldering in the pit. I didn't know what to say. I could understand both their viewpoints. What Alice said was true, Rose would never break free from her parents if she kept allowing them to have that control, even if she benefited from it. But I could see why Rosalie chose to stay in her current circumstances. I knew all about needing an 'end' and using any means to get there, even if it was self-destructive and compromised my sense of self. I knew all about the desperation of feeling helpless, like there's no choice left but the fucked up one in front of you.

After a few minutes of silence, Alice finally spoke. "She's right. I am just a kid and I am a know-it-all. But this isn't about me, you know? Jasper's going through some real shit here. I mean, sure, they're his parents, but he's never had a strong bond with them. They gave up on him and never felt a moment's remorse. And now he's finally doing something constructive about it, walking away without looking back, searching for a positive climate, and they're just fucking pissed that the climate includes me."

"Alice, you know that's not really why they're upset. They're pissed off that dangling their wads of cash in front of him doesn't work anymore. They're not even worried about their son, they're worried about the loss of control," I said.

"I know. And I know what Rose is thinking, that if she doesn't do what they say, they won't pay for her to go to school or anything else for the matter. I get it. Doesn't make it right, though." Alice gave a frustrated sigh while smoothing her dark hair back, only for it to poof right back up again. "It's just that Rose was really nice to me when we first moved here. She was Emmett's friend then and she kind of took me under her wing, so to speak. Now she's selling herself short and I just can't stand to see her give in to what those dipshits want. It just makes me sick."

Alice wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge across her face. I knew these tears weren't really from this argument but in response to the fact that the people she loved were hurting. Alice's sensitivity always astounded me, the fact that she could feel so passionately about things and also have the conviction to always speak her mind, even if what she said wasn't exactly what you wanted to hear.

Rosalie returned about an hour later. We had started a game of dominoes and Alice had just pulled a kettle of boiling water from the fire. She poured it into a carafe, allowing the grounds to seep before pushing them to the bottom, straining the liquid and leaving a thick, black coffee. The heady, bitter smell of the grounds wafted through the campsite, overpowering the distinct scents of the forest.

Rosalie took a seat at the plastic picnic table, placing herself across from me. Alice poured a cup of the coffee, adding some powdered creamer and sugar to the mug, and sat the cup in front of her. That was it. Argument over. There were no apologies, no further explanations. They had both articulated their views earlier and now it was done with. I found this interaction refreshing, free of the rehashing and drawn out drama that makes arguments so unbearable.

We continued to play dominoes, the conversation hovering in superficiality, broken only by the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs that brought forth three paint splattered boys from the forest, their boisterous jeering interrupting the quiet stillness of the clearing. Carlisle and Esme would be here soon to pick us up so we busied ourselves in breaking down the camp and packing the supplies into piles for easy loading.

Tired from my restless sleep, I lost myself in quiet thought, thankful we weren't going to hike back through the forest and longing for the soothing spray of a hot shower. It was with such ease that we worked together to clean up the camp, removing any trace of human from forest, and when we were all cleaned up and the site was vacant and bare, I felt a sense of longing and sadness lulling over me - sadness for the end of a very binding trip, having affixed myself not only to Edward, but now to his family as well.

In Phoenix I was always alone. I came home from school to an empty house. I put myself to bed while Renee smoked her weed and had her drink on the porch. I made myself dinner when Renee taught the late class. I'd always wished for a family, mourning the loss of my father figure to the point of detriment. With Edward at the helm and surrounded by real brothers and sisters, complete with bickering and hair braiding and wrestling, this was just everything I'd always imagined my family would look like. I never would have imagined that when I accidentally tripped and fell into a beautiful boy at the market that my long lost family would be what I stumbled upon.

…

When I got home, Charlie was parked in front of the television, tuned into a baseball game and finishing one of the heart healthy dinners Edward and I had made for him. I mumbled a hello, answered a few of his questions about the trip, and then submerged myself in the lovely spray of the hot shower, the sound of the steady stream against the shower curtain soothing to my tired brain. The water pooled around my sore and blistered feet, momentarily stinging the broken skin but then easing the burn of the abrasions.

I lathered my hair with shampoo, the warm water saturating the strands and causing them to hang heavy down my back. Edward was going to be arriving shortly and I was going to give him his birthday present. I had such a hard time trying to think of a gift for Edward, trying to find something he didn't already have, something that was indicative of the love and gratitude that consumed my every thought and decision. It was a daunting task, finding a material object worthy of the admiration I found blooming in my lonely little soul, and my dwindling funds seriously limited my options.

I wished that I could offer him something less tangible, something I know he needed but didn't think himself worthy enough to ask. He was still fearful of the disease, I could sense his hesitation in our discussions of the future. We really hadn't discussed it, not in a reality sense, just quiet declarations of unfaltering love as we laid bare in twisted sheets. I knew I wanted Edward forever, I didn't see any point to an existence without him. When I think of my life before him it hardly seemed a life at all, and to go back to that was unimaginable, an unfathomable thought that brought forth my inner drama queen. I could actually see her quoting Shakespeare and shit, a dagger piercing her chest in wild declarations of 'life with Edward or no life at all'.

Then again, I was preparing myself for the worst. I was constantly keeping myself in the mindset that at any given point in time Edward would realize that I'm too much work, that I'm not worth the struggle, and that he would leave me. I had to think of this, I had to take some precaution, my self-preserving nature unable to give me full release. I guarded my heart like a lioness guarding her cub, letting it wander and play a while but ready to defend it at the first threat of danger. I wanted so desperately to fully relinquish myself, body and soul, to Edward, but I still lingered in that room of self-doubt, opening every window to let him in but unable to fully leave that mindset.

Both of us relished in our self-inflicted prisons, yet we managed to find space to let each other in, to find comfort in the fact that while solitary within our cell walls, we at least were together in the struggle, and I would struggle with Edward for as long as I could, no matter what the cost.

This realization had prompted me to spend the remainder of my cash on Edward's present, the chef's coat and pants required by the Italian Culinary Academy. While a small gesture in actuality, the implication was the real gift. I knew this school was Edward's dream but when he talked about it he was ambiguous, always a "we'll see" or "I probably won't even get in." I knew this was for my benefit. Edward was afraid to leave me, afraid I would slither back into that pattern of abstaining and purging if he wasn't here. He'd never actually put words to this concern but it was evident in the way he watched me eat, sometimes forgetting to eat himself so that he wouldn't miss any of my cues or signals of distress. It was obvious in the meals that he prepared, making sure everything was always vegetarian or foods I had commented on as favorites. When he greeted me in the evenings he always looked wary, prepared to hear the worst, to the point now that I had thought about just giving him a 'yay' or 'nay' when he walked through the door so that I could ease his apprehension in having to ask. This was no fault of Edward's but simply the nature of the beast, the very reaction I had feared but had accepted as my fate when I accepted the love I feel for Edward.

Edward was fucking insane if he thought I was going to sit back and let him give up his dream because of me and my fucking issues. But I knew he wouldn't agree to leave me behind in Forks. Charlie hardly needed my help anymore and Renee had never needed me. I had nothing tying me to Forks, a free bird ready to nest anywhere I pleased, and I wanted to nest in New York, with Edward. I hadn't figured out all the financial shit yet, but we could make it work. I didn't care if I had to work three jobs or twenty hours a day, I would make it work. The decision was simple; I'd go with him if he'd have me.

Edward would never ask this of me, to give up college and my quasi-parents. I am prepared for him to argue, but I am also abnormally stubborn and I know that this is what I want and I won't take no for an answer.

This is why I decided to present the idea to Edward as a gift. He couldn't say no to a gift, could he? It's common courtesy to accept a gift unconditionally, right? I was hoping that if I presented it to him in this way he would see that this was something I wanted to give him, something I wanted to do for us, so that I could be there with him when he achieved his goals and so that he wouldn't have to worry about leaving me here to fend for myself. It was the only solution that made sense.

Edward arrived at my house a little after eleven thirty. Charlie was asleep on the couch again, wrapped in the afghan and bathing in the soft glow of the television, Letterman's top ten list blaring from the set. Just like always I watched from my bedroom window, waiting to see his headlights illuminate the street and then, on their signal, I crept down the stairs to let him into the house and pulled him silently up to my room. Once behind the closed door he enveloped me in a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. He inhaled deeply, his lips barely grazing the skin there and causing goosebumps to scatter across my shoulders and down my spine.

Edward always smelled so good, the smell of warm bread emanating from him today, the fresh and organic smell of yeast and flour on his fingers as he brought them to touch my cheek. I had only been away from him half a dozen hours and yet I longed for the reunion. He gently cradled my face as I leaned in to press my lips to his, tasting his sweet honey breath on his mouth. I flooded over at once with ease and comfort, the familiar pull of his tongue languidly sliding across my lip as I flicked my tongue out to meet his.

"Hey," he sighed into my cheek. His gentle lips curled into a smile and his jade eyes still managed to sparkle even in the dim light of my small room.

"Hi," I whispered, licking my lips, anxious to taste him again.

"How's Charlie? Still sleeping downstairs, huh?" Edward flopped down on my bed, bouncing slightly and rubbing his eyes with his hands. I curled into his side to rest my head on his chest, finding his heartbeat, the pulsing rhythm seeming to boom in the quiet of the house.

"Yeah, I think his room reminds him of the surgery or something. He hasn't slept in there in forever." I cringed remembering my first weeks here and how miserable Charlie had been trapped in that room.

"Well, I'm fucking stoked he sleeps that far away from your bedroom. He'd kick my ass if he knew what I was doing to his daughter in here," Edward smirked, running his smooth fingers underneath the hem of my tank top with grazes over my stomach before wrapping them around my hip and pulling me towards him. His lips beckoned mine into a slow sucking kiss, pulling my bottom lip between his own. It was easy to get lost in Edward's embraces, the pull of his lips so inviting, but I was reminded that I had a purpose here tonight.

"Hold on," I said, getting up from the bed and getting his package from my closet. "I got you a present." I sat back down on the bed, holding out the package for Edward to take.

"Bella, you got me a present? The camping trip was supposed to be my present." Edward looked truly perplexed, like the thought of me getting him a present had never crossed his mind.

"Open it, open it!" I shook the package at him, shifting to sit on my knees and just nervous as all fuck as to how Edward was going to receive what I was going to tell him. He grinned, taking the package from my hands and ripping into the blue metallic paper. I watched as he ran his fingers across the material, reading the insignia embroidered into the stiff cotton. He unfolded the chef's coat and held it up to look at it.

"What…where…how did you get this?" Edward finally choked out.

"I ordered it," I answered. Edward didn't speak, he just kept smoothing his fingers over the threads of the embroidery, occasionally tracing the black lettering. I swallowed hard, a huge lump suddenly materializing in my throat. I was begging for courage, trying to force the air between my teeth and tongue to form the words I wanted to say.

"Bella, I-" Edward started, but I knew I had to speak before he could make another excuse and before I lost my nerve.

"Look, you have to go. You have to, Edward. You have such passion for this, it's your dream, your life. You can't just give up on that," I blurted out frantically, rushing through the words and stuttering a little in the process.

Edward pursed his pretty lips, trying to make his explanation not about me, I knew it. His mind was searching for a way to dispute me without putting blame on my eating disorder but I knew that was what was holding him back, that I was holding him back.

"I might not even get in, you know. You have to submit a resume and shit with your application and I don't have one fucking thing I could put on a resume." Edward laid the shirt on the bed.

"Of course you do. You have those culinary classes you went to and you catered a graduation party for the son of the chief of surgery. I'm sure you could get Carlisle to write a letter or something," I countered, knowing full well this was just an excuse. These places would accept anyone as long as there was room and you had the cash.

"It's pretty expensive, though. I think the whole program is like forty thousand dollars or something fucking ridiculous like that. I have some money, um, that my mom had put into an account for us, for college. But it's not nearly enough and I have to split it with Alice," Edward said, looking at this hands in his lap. I could tell he was uncomfortable talking about his mother, the thought of her money a reminder that she was here once, alive and planning for the future of her children.

"You could apply for loans, scholarships, grants. You still have time if you apply now and I know you would qualify for something." I knew there were all kinds of people dying to give cash to kids like Edward. I mean, he was an orphan with a 4.0 GPA for Christ's sake, there had to be something out there for him.

"What are you going to do?" Edward looked up at me, a struggle laced with uncertainty behind his lashes.

"Um, see I have this plan. Charlie doesn't need me anymore and Renee's, well, useless. I want to go with you, to New York, and then maybe to Italy, and then, um, you know, happily ever after," I said quietly, not able to meet his eyes for fear of the rejection I might find hidden there.

Edward was quiet, thinking and calculating his response. The anticipation was killing me, and I wanted to scream at him to say something, anything. But I just waited, letting the idea permeate and seep into his consciousness.

"I would want nothing more than for you to go with me, to share this with you. But what will you do? Will you go to school too? Don't you want to go to college? Don't you have a dream for the future?" Edward asked quietly.

"Edward, you kinda are my dream for the future," I mumbled, blushing pink in saying the words out loud. I didn't give a shit about college or a career or whatever. I just wanted to be with Edward, I didn't care where or under what circumstances. That was the only future I could see. "Cats and babies round her feet, and all are fat and none are thin…"

Edward slowly slipped his hand into mine, tranquility in his touch, his fingers sliding across my own and twining and twisting again and again, and I felt his appreciation in this small gesture.

"I know, Bella. But I can't let you give up everything for me, for what I want. I can't ask you to do that." Edward spoke in a quiet, pained voice, closing his eyes as he continued to twist his fingers with mine.

"You didn't ask me to do anything. This is my choice, it's what I want, the only thing I want. I don't give a fuck about college. I could find a job doing something. I know a lot about books, I could work in a book store or a library or both, anything. I don't even care." I gripped Edward's hand in mine feeling the scabbed skin of my mark scratch against my palm. I forced my conviction into my touch, wishing I could somehow transfer my thoughts to him so he would believe me.

"Bella, you don't understand. When my mother married my father, she gave up everything for him, for his dream, for his career, for his disease. It was all about him and what he needed. And he destroyed her, Bella." Edward paused and I knew where this was heading.

"Edward, you're not going to destroy me," I said desperately.

"Bella, please, I'm not being irrational here. I'm being realistic, please just listen. This is a genetic disease. There's a chance I could be just like my father, a very real chance. I don't want you to feel…obligated, to stay with me if that happens." I tried to interrupt, to argue, but he responded sharply.

"Just listen!" he said, pleading for me to shut the fuck up. I nodded an apology as he took a deep breath and continued to explain.

"My mother didn't have anything else. She was brilliant, you know, and beautiful, and she could have done anything with her life but she chose him, invested everything in him. I don't know, maybe if she would have had options, things would have been different. Maybe she would have left him or at least seen him for what he was and not this idealistic image she carried with her."

Edward quieted, and I could almost see the memories dancing around his head, his consciousness hovering between the anguish of his stolen family and irritation for the fact that it could have been prevented.

"You want me to have options? I don't understand, Edward," I responded truthfully.

Edward sighed. "I just want you to be safe and happy. You should have something that is wholly yours, besides me, that you could devote yourself to, just in case."

"Just in case what? Just in case you go crazy? You think I'm just going to be able to get over it by submersing myself in a fucking hobby? Soothe myself with fucking scrapbooking or some shit?" What the hell? I would be devastated, did he really think a hobby would make it all better?

"No! Not a hobby necessarily, a career, a degree, or what you would have been planning for had you never come to Forks, had you never met me, something else that makes you happy," Edward tried to clarify. He flopped back down on the bed, his hands tangled in his hair as he closed his eyes, sighing in frustration.

I tried to objectively think about what Edward was trying to explain. The threat of his schizophrenia was minimal, but yes, it was still a threat and it always would be. Edward wanted me to be safe and happy, he wanted me to have a future if his was cut short. I could understand that, and he thinks that the fact that his mother didn't was the reason she stuck around, even though I knew that was total bullshit. Edward's mother stuck around because she loved his father and life without him was more unbearable than life with the diseased him, an affirmation not far from my own.

What would I have been planning if I would have stayed in Phoenix? I would have moved to Jacksonville with my mom, probably continuing the same pattern of behavior, maybe enrolled in a junior college, because that seems to be the thing to do after high school. There was no future for me there.

"Edward," I said, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap. He opened his eyes, the frustration still evident in the green, and moved his hands to rest on my thighs, gentle in his touch.

"I think I understand what you're trying to say, and I know you're scared, but whatever happens we'll deal with it, together. Relationships are give and take, right? And I feel like it's my turn to give. Please, Edward, let me do this," I pleaded, my hands on his chest clutching at his shirt.

His hands moved up my legs to rest on my hips, tiny shivers of anticipatory electricity radiating from his graze. "You know I can't refuse you when you plead with me like this." His fingers gripped my hips, strong fingers digging into my flesh.

"Then don't refuse," I whispered, bending to touch my lips to his, transferring my plea, my desperation, through this kiss, my tongue doing the pleading as I massaged my way into his mouth. Edward moved his hands over my ass, pulling at the cotton fabric of my sleep shorts.

I leaned back, Edward groaning as I pressed against his lap. "Fuck Bella!" he muttered. He sighed, looking into my expectant face. "If I go to New York I want you to come with me but I want you to take some college classes while we're there. I'm not going to let you waste all that spectacular logic in a book store. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

"We won't be able to afford rent and college classes. That's highly unfeasible," I replied. It's not that I was opposed to going to college, I just couldn't see how we would be able to afford to do both.

"Get a scholarship, a loan, a grant," he said, quoting my earlier statement as I gave him what I could only describe as a look of pure annoyance. "Look, we have a whole school year to figure it out. We don't have to decide right now."

"You do. You have to start getting letters of recommendation and put together your resume, and the school fills up quick so you have to get your application in early," I pointed out.

"Okay, okay. I'll work on it," he smiled from beneath me. I knew this was going to work. It had to, it was the only option that could work, that made sense for both of us. Just the thought of moving to New York with Edward made me giddy as all sin. We could have our own apartment, wake up together in our own bed, naked and tangled in cotton sheets. Edward would cook breakfast and we would spend lazy Sunday afternoons lounging on the couch, watching old movies on television, complete with commercials and everything. Excitement bubbled inside of me at this prospect and at Edward's acceptance of the idea. Sure, he had his condition, but like he said, we had a whole year to iron things out. The point was that Edward wanted me with him and we were entwined and twisted in this journey together. "And you could complete me, I'd complete you…"

…

"Oh! These porcelain and chrome ones are so pretty. It looks like it belongs in a spa or something." Alice had picked up the white toothbrush holder, the shiny detailing glinting under the florescent lights of the swanky home décor store we were currently invading. Alice turned over the holder, looking at the price tag affixed to the base. "Holy fucking shit! It's not that pretty. That's extortion." She placed the fixture back on the shelf and I smiled at my thrift store friend.

Rosalie had asked us to drive into Port Angeles with her to pick up some items for her new apartment. She was going to be moving in about two weeks, arriving in Pullman a month before school started at the beginning of September to give herself adequate time to adjust to the change of living on her own. Emmett would be moving on campus soon and I thought it kind of wasteful for them to be spending money on two forms of housing when it was obvious they'd be staying together. I will be shocked as all hell if Emmett actually ever sleeps in his dorm room.

We waited by a display of kitchen gadgets as Rose stood in line, purchasing some over-priced fluffy pink towels for her bathroom, and then we were going to this little Italian restaurant for lunch. I hadn't actually been to a restaurant since arriving in Forks and I was slightly nervous about the whole ordeal. When someone else makes your food you have literally no control over what goes into the dish. Even when you order a vegetarian meal you have no clue what that dude behind the door put in your food. This made me uneasy, my stomach actually cramping now at the thought, especially considering the hotdog failure I experienced last month. I hadn't tried to eat meat since, too worried of a repeat offense on my stomach.

That had been the last time I had puked, at the camping trip twenty-seven days ago. Twenty-seven days, one day shy of the twenty-eight required for many drug treatment programs. I wondered if this is what drug addicts and alcoholics went through while recovering from their addictions. The difference being that drug addicts could avoid drugs, but it's impossible to avoid food and eating for any real length of time. Believe me, I had tried.

The purging now somewhat at bay, I focused on finding the desire to eat. I still rarely had an appetite, but when I did I filled myself with veggies and whole grains. They were easy on my digestive system and the grains provided the calories needed to sustain my health, to return to a normal weight or whatever. I had no idea what normal meant and I paid no attention to my actual weight, but my clothes fit differently, my hips a little fuller, my cheeks more flush, a slight swell in my breasts now. I liked it, finding a deep satisfaction in the feminine features I found when I looked in the mirror. I was pretty sure Edward liked it too, his hands and mouth gracing those more fuller areas gratuitously and with increased fervor, which I really didn't think was possible.

Rosalie finished paying, signing the slip in great loops and handing the paper to the cashier. She turned to us, folding the receipt and shoving it in the pocket of her black capris. She rolled her eyes and walked towards us, toting a large bag overflowing with terry cloth.

"What a fucking idiot. She couldn't find the tag on one of the towels and wouldn't just ring one of the others. Incompetent moron. Come on, lets go, I'm starving." Rosalie threw on her sunglasses and led us through the heavy glass door.

We were hit with a wave of clammy heat, obscenely adverse to the air conditioned building we had just left. Rosalie walked ahead of us, her curls bouncing as she walked and stopped to look in store windows. Alice hummed beside me, practically skipping down the crowded sidewalk in her sundress and sandals, a delicate headband wrapped around her head. Despite the summer heat I had worn my jeans, but the warmth was causing my tank top to stick to my back. As we walked, my stomach twinged in annoyance and I realized I must be hungry, the pain now more familiar the more I indulged in meals.

It was a quick walk to the little restaurant and Rose walked up to the hostess requesting a table for three. The restaurant was somewhat vacant, the lunch rush over, and we were seated right away at a booth towards the back of the building. I perused the menu looking for vegetarian meals that wouldn't be too rich, staying away from meals saturated in fat or dairy.

I decided on a Mediterranean salad; mixed greens combined with grilled eggplant, asparagus, artichoke hearts, and tossed with a light balsamic vinaigrette.

The waiter brought out some breadsticks and water. He glanced at Rosalie, giving her the infamous head nod and "sup" while placing the glasses on the table. Rosalie looked like she was going to rip his throat out, her sunglasses perched on top of her head and her eyes narrowed in probably the bitchiest sneer I've ever seen, like, ever. It really was an art form, the way Rose pulled off that sneer without looking even the tiniest bit ugly.

"Hey beautiful ladies, how are we doing today?" the waiter asked. He looked like he was our age, maybe a little older, and just reeked of overconfidence. He was handsome, probably real hot shit here in Port Angeles, WA.

"We," Rose indicated the three of us, "are starving. I'll take the chicken cacciatore with no pasta. I'll have a side salad with that instead, dressing on the side. And I'll need two lemon wedges for my water." The waiter blinked a few times, grinning like an idiot, before asking probably the worst question you could ever ask a customer like Rose.

"What was that babe?" the waiter asked, "I was, um, distracted." His eyes flickered to Rose's chest, which was stuffed into a low cut halter. Poor fucking bastard.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You didn't get any of that? Look dipshit, all you have to do is write down our order, take it to your buddy in the back, and then bring us our food. Do you think you can handle that?" Rosalie asked through clenched teeth. "And if I find one fucking thing wrong with my order, I will personally fuck your shit up."

She meant it too. She literally looked like she wanted to kick his ass.

"Fuck! What is with people today?" Rosalie took a drink of her water. This was the Rose I'd grown to fear but rarely saw. She'd always been a cold hearted bitch to me, but it was always in a passive aggressive, insult-my-intelligence-and-make-me-feel-like-an-idiot kind of way, not the outright insults she was throwing today. Maybe she didn't hate me as much as I thought she did. Or maybe she just hated everyone else so much more. Whatever the case, I was glad I wasn't on the receiving end of her wrath today.

The waiter just stood there, unsure of what to say and looking like a damned fool, so Alice and I quickly gave our orders, smiling pitifully at him as he walked away.

"Alright, what the fuck is your problem? You're acting like a total bitch," Alice asked Rosalie, sipping her water through a straw.

"What? That guy was harassing us. You saw him eyefucking the shit out of my tits. That's revolting. He deserved to be put in his place." Rosalie smoothed the wisps of hair surrounding her face. "Besides, neither one of you were going to do it. I did us all a favor."

"Yeah, until he jacks off in your salad dressing on the side," Alice snorted.

"Oh, he wouldn't dare. I saw the fear in his eyes, he really thinks I'd mess up my manicure to kick his ass. Idiot." Rosalie was on a roll today. Note to self: don't say anything until Rosalie is out of earshot.

Just then, a waitress we hadn't seen before brought out our dishes, smiling politely as she set them in front of us. My salad looked very good, but I opted to forgo the dressing, Alice's spunk flavored additive still lingering in my brain

Rosalie meticulously picked over her plate, looking for an error or something out of the ordinary. Apparently, she found nothing strange, so she dove into her meal, smiling in triumph as she chewed her chicken. Alice had ordered minestrone and Caesar salad, her soup steaming and sending swirls around her face.

I took a small bite of my salad, the roasted eggplant's unique flavor and texture satisfying to my taste buds. I chewed quickly, swallowing the vegetables and taking another bite, the tart vinegar of the artichoke hearts fresh and pronounced when mixed with the greens.

I finished most of the salad until I felt the dull pressure burning in my belly. I pushed the plate away, trying to focus my mind on something else, anything but the twinge in my gut. My stomach cramped, twisted, but it wasn't nausea invading my senses this time. It was something else, something foreign. Fuck, I hope I'm not getting sick.

I got up from the table, Alice eyeballing me wearily. "I just need to use the restroom," I reassured her. I wasn't going to puke, but I felt off, not right. As I headed to ask a waitress for directions to the restroom, I felt a gush from between my legs. I stopped, suddenly panicked. What the fuck was that? Frantic now, I asked the waitress for the restroom whereabouts and I walked quickly to it.

I entered a stall and quickly pulled down my pants and sat on the seat, and then I saw it. Blood. At first I was perplexed, confused, and then I realized what was happening. My period. I fucking just got my fucking period. Shit!

I didn't know what to do. I hadn't had a period in such a long time, I no longer noticed its absence. But now I was actually having a period and I couldn't contain my emotions. Tears fell from my eyes in great sobs, my gasping breaths filling the small restroom with awful sounds, but I didn't even fucking care, I couldn't contain the power and urgency of the emotions I was feeling.

Tears streaming down my cheeks, I thought about what this meant in actuality. It meant it was working, that I was doing something right, because I had read on one of those websites Edward showed me that menstruation wouldn't return until you reached a certain percentage of body fat. I couldn't remember the numbers, but I knew it meant I was on the brink of that healthy weight range. I didn't know my weight when I came to Forks, the last time I had weighed myself had been back in Phoenix years earlier. I knew I had lost weight since then and that it had been enough to stop my body from ovulating, but at some point in the last five months it had changed. I had changed, and the fact that I could engage in something so trivial, so normal after months of being a freak, months of living without that feminine identity in my boyish figure and lacking the basic biological functioning indicative of womanhood, that my body had rebounded so easily, swelled within my entire being and filled my soul with crushing relief.

I don't know how long I had been sobbing on the toilet before Alice and Rosalie burst in through the outer door. I could hear them arguing.

"Rose, listen to me for fucking once in your life, just leave her alone," Alice was saying, trying to stop Rosalie from entering the bathroom. Alice probably thought I was puking and was trying to protect me from Rosalie's raging bitchiness.

"We need to fucking go. I'm supposed to meet Emmett in a half hour. I'm going to be late as it is. I'm sick to death of all of you catering to her. This is fucking ridiculous." I heard the door shove open, two sets of stumbling feet struggling through the door.

"Fucking let go of me Alice, shit!" I heard Rosalie mutter.

"Bella? Bella are you okay?" Alice knocked on the stall door.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I wiped at my face, trying to smooth away the tearful evidence.

"Bella, honey, I know you have some stomach issue or whatever but we can't wait around all day while you try to take a shit. Wrap it up, we need to fucking go." Rosalie's smooth voice conflicted drastically with the actual words coming from her mouth. Fuck, this was so embarrassing. I didn't want to discuss this with her, but I needed a pad or tampon or something, and my pants were fucking ruined, the blood having soaked through. I wished I could just appear at home, curled up in my bed and indulge myself in another good cry.

"I'm not sick, I started my period," I blurted out. "And it's bad," I added, hoping one of them would understand so I didn't have to explain.

"Oh Bella, are you serious?" Alice knew what this meant and I could hear it in her voice. She sounded excited, joyful almost.

"Yeah, I need something," I remarked.

"I'm on it." I was surprised to hear Rose's voice softening as she passed me a tampon under the stall door.

"Thanks," I muttered as I took it from her.

"Okay, Bella, we'll be outside," Alice said to me and I heard the door open. Shit! I wasn't going to be able to leave this bathroom in these pants.

"Um, Alice? It's on my pants," I mumbled, feeling like a fucking moron.

"Oh, shit! Um…" Alice was trying to think of something we could do. "Do you think you can make it to the car?"

"Bella, just wait here. Alice, keep her company, I'll be back in five," Rose said before leaving the restroom.

"Bella, oh my God, are you okay?" Alice asked candidly now that Rose had left.

"Alice, I'm kind of freaking out. I just can't control my emotions," I blubbered, the tears beginning to stream down my face once again.

Alice just laughed. "I get all emotional and shit when I get my period too. Welcome to ovulation!"

I laughed with her, thankful Alice was here to make light of the situation, putting things into perspective.

Rosalie returned ten minutes later, slipping a plastic shopping bag over the door.

"What's all this?" I asked. A pair of newly purchase underwear and jeans were folded in the bottom of the bag.

"What do you think it is? It's so you don't make a mess all over the inside of my car," Rosalie retorted.

I changed into the new clothes, noticing the jeans had a size four tag. They fit perfectly and I didn't even want to know how Rosalie knew what size jeans I wore. I put the soiled clothes into the bag, tying it at the top in a secure knot.

Finally put together, I left the stall. "Thanks Rosalie, for the pants and stuff. I'll pay you back." Shit, I had spent my cash on Edward's present. I desperately needed a job or something.

"How about a trade, the clothes for that book you let me borrow?" I thought maybe she was being sarcastic, so I was hesitant in answering.

"I'm serious," Rose said, her eyes refusing to waver, having sensed my hesitation. Her generosity surprised the shit out of me and I wondered at the cause of her sudden departure from cuntland.

"Okay," I answered, my voice wavering.

We left the restaurant, climbing into Rosalie's BMW as she sped across the winding highway towards Forks, my success tonight still present in the cramping of my stomach and the aching in my joints. I welcomed it all because it was a sign of change, of progress that I hadn't thought possible, progress incited by the constant devotion of that beautiful soul that belonged to Edward but that I called mine.

...

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A/N

Joni Songs Referenced

Chelsea Morning

Ladies of the Canyon

Willie

Court and Spark

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